The Fairy Garden
K.A. Vargas
Nothing is as it seems – when you live in a child's fairy garden – especially when you're 13 stories high and surrounded by skyscrapers. The bustle of the city streets is a distant hum, like the bees that keep me company as I care for the tender blossoms of my favorite strawberry patch. The rooftop garden has flourished under my care for the last seven years.
Seven wonderful years.
Just me, Aisling, as well as the birds and insects that call the rooftop home. Aisling is the human child who helps me with the garden.
The garden has grown from the small strawberry patch to include lettuce, asparagus, and borage – as well as marigolds and roses – but I'm best with berries.
***
Aisling's little voice whispers, "My grandma's coming to visit, and she said she has a surprise for me."
I don't respond; of course, a garden fairy never responds to humans.
"I hope you like your table and chairs; now you can have tea in the mornings like me and Mama." Aisling's small human hands rearrange the fairy-sized table and chairs outside my front door. "Mama was mad that I broke this one," she says, lifting the small white chair. "She thinks I did it on purpose so I could put it in your garden." Her brows crinkle together as she arranges the chair – just so – and steps back. "I didn't, I promise, but I think it looks prettier in your garden than my doll house."
The garden is just starting to bloom with the warm spring air. White and pink flowers flutter in the breeze.
She's right; it's lovely.
“Time for bed.” The woman holding Aisling’s hand says.
“Good night, fairies!" She calls before disappearing with her larger human through the door.
Fairy, I correct, it's only me, but she doesn't know, and I won't tell her that I'm all alone in my little garden because that's just the way I like it.
***
Buzzing outside my window lets me know it's time to rise and weed before dawn fully breaks and the humans are still asleep.
I straighten the knee-length hem of my strawberry-red dress and fluff my wings as I open my front door.
I run smack into a bushel of white and pink blossoms. "What in the world?" I squeak.
"Hello," a handsome face smiles down at me, "I just moved in next door." His voice is warm as honey as he peeks out from behind the flowers.
There is another fairy in my garden.
A very handsome fairy.
In my garden.
"Umm…" I have forgotten how to use words.
Dark brown hair frames bright green eyes that crinkle with amusement. "I'm Quinalt," his smile grows revealing dimples, "but my friends call me Quin." He lifts the flowers toward me.
Dimples, really?
"Thank you," I take the flowers and a half step back, "I'm Jewel." My tongue feels heavy. "My friends call me Jewel; you can call me that, too," I say quickly.
"Jewel, it's very nice to meet you."
"I'm sorry," I drag my gaze from his face to the garden beyond his broad shoulders and beautiful wings, "where did you come from, and why are you here?" I know that I could have asked that in a nicer manner, but my manners have vanished with my words.
Quin points to the double-story fairy house situated across the planter box.
My planter box.
Oh no, is this the surprise Aisling had told me about?
A new fairy?
My head spins, and I slam my front door shut – right in his handsome face.
***
The rooftop door crashes open as Aisling squeals with delight. "I love it, Grandma; it's just like the one in the picture I showed you."
My garden suddenly feels too small.
Maybe Aisling's grandma will take Quin back home with her after her visit. She's never here for more than a few weeks.
I can share my garden for a few weeks.
"I can't wait to add to the fairy garden." Aisling bounds back toward the door, hand in hand with her grandmother. "Can we still go to the store?" Her voice fades behind the closing door.
Add? What else would she want to add? Our garden was perfect.
A frantic buzzing pulls me from my thoughts, and I walk to the back door to let Betsy, my bumblebee, inside. She flits around excitedly, leaving a trail of pollen in her wake.
"Yes," I say, sitting in the nearest chair, "I did meet him." She buzzes loudly, like a purr, before settling on my lap. "He is very handsome." Her buzzing intensifies.
***
The next morning, I find a small – fairy-sized – bottle on my front porch with a note from Quin. A slight flutter fills my stomach as I uncurl the parchment. His writing is tidy.
Jewel,
Seeing as we're now neighbors, I thought you might like to have dinner with me. I'll see you tonight, and you can show me around the garden.
See you at seven.
Yours Truly,
Quin
Well, that's presumptuous of him. My cheeks flush.
I glance around the garden and find that Aisling has added a white picket fence around my house and a white rock path winding through the planter box, leading directly to Quin's house.
Is his house closer today?
A double swing has been added on a small mound between us, nestled next to the path, along with strings of solar-powered fairy lights.
We never needed paths or lights or swings before, I grumble.
Betsy darts by, inspecting the small golden ball that will light the garden tonight. They do look nice, I admit, before heading toward my strawberry patch to pick out any unwelcome weeds. I already have an uninvited guest in my garden; I don't need any more.
***
Seven o'clock – promptly – a tentative knock comes from the front door. Quin's presumptuous, but at least he's punctual.
More flowers greet me as I open the door. "Thank you," I say, tucking them into the crook of my arm as I shut the door firmly behind me.
"I brought a picnic," Quin gestures toward the basket in his other hand.
I eye the basket dubiously, "Let me show you the garden."
I don't wait for him to follow as I unfurl my wings and take off toward the farthest planter, next to the composter.
Betsy buzzes contentedly beside me as I land, Quin following a moment later. I gesture widely to encompass the entirety of the garden behind me. The red strawberries, vibrant green leaves, and white blossoms are on full display. "This is my garden."
Quin looks over my shoulder. "I see," he narrows his eyes, "the roses seem a bit overgrown." Shifting his gaze to mine, he said, "I could help with that if you'd like."
"They're not overgrown," I glare at him, then toward the roses. Dark green leaves, pink blooms, wild vines trailing over the trellises – just how I like them. "And I don't need any help with my garden."
Quin smirks, his dimple appearing, "They could use a pruning."
"Don't you dare." I scowl at him.
Betsy flits over to Quin, inspecting the basket he's still holding. Quin begins to pet my bumblebee, who is all too eager for his attention—tiny little traitor.
"If you won't let me help you, at least let me feed you." He smiles charmingly at me, lifting the basket. "Finish showing me your garden."
***
I swear his house is closer this morning than it was yesterday. I glare at it while sipping rose tea. The chair next to me is empty, but the garden overflows with color, and I try not to think about the handsome fairy and how he made me laugh with stories from the country garden he was in before and the fairies that lived there.
He wasn't alone before coming here.
He had friends before coming here.
I look back toward his house before finishing my tea and making my way to the roses. They don't need pruning, but I could use more rose hips for tea, or that's what I tell myself.
The garden has grown so much over the years that I no longer have as much time to tend to each plant as I used to. I'll have to try harder to spend more time with them.
I can find a way to do that. I don't need help. I can do it by myself, just like I always have.
I use my apron to collect rose hips as I trim some of the wilder vines. Oh no, is that a spot – a black spot in my garden? I look closer at the rosebush; it's covered in spots, and so is the one next to it. All the roses are covered in black spots. How did I miss this?
It could spread to the strawberries. It could spread through the entire garden.
***
Betsy joins me as I knock on Quin's door the next morning. I spent yesterday trying to clear the black spots, but I couldn't do it alone.
The garden has gotten too big for me to do it all alone.
"Quin, the garden needs your help." I hold back a sob as he opens the door. "I need your help."
"Of course, Jewel," he takes my hand, "I'll help any way I can."
"Hurry, please. It's the roses. They have black spots."
Together, we clear the fungus attacking the roses. It took all day, but we did it.
Together, we inspect the rest of the garden to ensure it didn’t spread. It didn't.
For once, I had a friend to help.
For once, I didn't have to do it all by myself.
***
"Grandma is leaving tomorrow," Aisling sighs as she examines a small wooden sign in her hands before pushing it into the dirt near the front of the planter. "I'm going to miss her." A single tear tracks down her chubby cheek.
I don't respond because garden fairies don't speak to their human children.
Has it already been two weeks? Quin has been so helpful in the garden, and Betsy adores him. He is excellent with the roses, and it lets me spend more time with the strawberries.
For the first time in seven years, I wasn't the only fairy in my garden.
For the first time in seven years, I haven't wanted to be alone.
Glancing out my front window, I see Aisling scoot Quin's house a little closer to mine. He's no longer on the far side of the planter box. He's right next door.
"Good night, fairies!" The small human calls.
She's right; there are two of us.
***
I knock on Quin's door, Betsy buzzing beside me. I hold up the picnic basket as he opens it to welcome me inside. "I brought a picnic." His bright green eyes sparkle with mischief as he takes the basket to his table.
"Thank you, neighbor," he smiles. His dimples are on display.
"Are you leaving tomorrow?" I can't stop the question.
"Do you want me to leave?"
"No." The answer is simple. He's my neighbor and my friend. I don't want him to go.
"Then no, this is my home now." Quin takes my hand.
"Thank you, Quin," I smile, "for being my friend."
Quin leans closer, “You’re welcome, Jewel.”
"I told my grandma you were lonely and needed a friend." Big blue eyes peek through the front window. Rosy cheeks flushed, and a grin spread wide across Aisling's face. "I was right," she scrunches her nose as she leans in closer, "I knew you needed a friend." She giggles before leaning closer to whisper, "Someone you could talk to."
I look up at Quin, who winks at me before waving to Aisling. The small human who surprised me with a friend, so I wouldn't be lonely, in our garden. Something I didn’t know I needed.
Nothing is as it seems – when you live in a child's fairy garden – and that's exactly how I like it.
K.A. Vargas
K.A. Vargas is a fantasy romance author with a passion for world building, complex characters, and happily ever afters. When she's not writing, she enjoys reading, crocheting, and adventuring with her husband and young son near their home in Northern California.