Tom Gardner was in his late twenties, weeding in the fields, and it was a very hot day in Bozeman. It was a barren, brown land except for his garden in the backyard, yet he was determined to make it into fertilized, rich soil, where he could plant, possibly grow a farm. Maybe he might earn enough to support a family, or be able to attract another woman some day… He could not forget the sweet smile of her face, and the vague scent of the flowers in her hair, the cool, aroma of spring about her, her green aura…..

Tom shook his head, attempting to clear it. The flowers were quickly growing into blossom, he noticed, and he allowed himself a short time of thought. He glanced at the roses, making sure they were in good shape, then stole a look at…...Cherry blossoms... He put his sweaty face in his hands, trying to block out the image. The sweet smell... Her sweet smell... It was too much to bear.

Many times, he had considered wrecking the tree, chopping it in half, and getting some valuable slabs of wood. The flowers, he could burn, or sell; the money certainly would be useful. She had left only about a year ago; the pain was fresh in his aching heart.

A flashback played through his mind, sharp and sudden as thunder.

"TOM!" she screamed, losing it. She panted heavily, her breath on his neck. "We should go to sleep. Tom, I have something to tell you. I- I'm might be leaving," She turned away, and started to softly snore, and Tom stared at her, also panting heavily.

"I love you," Tom had said, staring at her bare form in bed, paying no heed to those words. They had shared a magical night together, and he knew this was a memory he wouldn't ever forget. She soon fell asleep, her body pressed against his. Tom just took her in his arms, and they snuggled against each other under the blankets. Surely the thing she said, it must have been a joke.

The next morning, she was gone. He remembered frantically searching. Her sweet scent lingered along the small cottage-like apartment. "Demi!" he cried, running around, searching through the rooms. "Demi!" After an hour, he knew there was no use. He hadn't listened to her, he had failed her. After letting out an outraged cry, he sank to his knees, letting out uncontrollable sobs. He had vowed to win her back, earn more money, and treat her like a queen. Somehow, in his heart, he knew she wasn't coming back, but he had pushed the thought aside.

"WHY?" he screamed, breaking in agony. "Why, after last night?" The energy was lost from him, and he crumpled to the floor in a heap.

That day, he did not eat, or sleep, or do anything. All he could do, was weep for her. He would never know why she left so suddenly.

Tom shook his head wildly, tears threatening to pour out, like the water from her favorite watering can….. Everything here reminded him of her. Her scent lingering amongst the flowers, her presence felt in that special room where they had that special night…

He looked up, as the Sun was setting. Time for him to go inside. The breeze blew on his ruffled up overalls, and he bowed his head before his favorite sunchair, sharply inhaling the fresh air around him. His hand brushed aimlessly on the cushion, his fingers twisting the weaving, just like a basket. Like the basket. The basket she would hold with one hand, but hold the other in his, while laughing and picking flowers.

Tom immediately drew his face away from the sunchair, a scowl appearing, and deepening on his tanned face. Everything….. everything reminded him too much of her. Much, too much. If he kept this up, he would be bawling like he was when he was born.

He squatted down, studying his hand-made wooden porch. He had made this, in fact, the entire house so that she could move in with him, all for a dream to be unfulfilled.

Allowing himself one sob, he gruffly picked up his house keys, and entered his house.

After a long shower, Tom Gardner had managed to dry up, and begin cooking dinner in the kitchen. He willed himself not to look at the walls, the walls he had painted green and white in honor of one of her favorite flowers. He always left the first of his stove skillets untouched and intact, in the back corner, hidden away from view. Although it had been a year since he had last hidden it, he knew exactly where it was, and whenever he was near, his back and throat prickled with shame and longing. That was her favorite skillet that she cooked on, the skillet where she also taught him to cook.

Tom picked up a dark metal stove skillet instead, and set it on the stove, along with a wooden board on the counter, and a knife. Halfheartedly, his mind whirled about, and he grabbed the nearest food from the fridge. Slumped from exhaustion, he didn't know what he was making- until the middle. His jaw dropped open, slightly. He had made her favorite dish, and the last thing he wanted to eat was that. His jaw clenched back, but he knew he couldn't throw it away. It was food, and a waste of money, and he knew she wouldn't approve, especially if it was her favorite meal.

Sighing, he chose a fork, a spoon, and a knife, along with a glass and plate, and sat down at his table, noticing the empty chair beside him. He reached for a napkin, and was overwhelmed by the millionth time of how she would reach for it at the same time, and they would argue over who would go first. He pushed the napkin container away, and got a single one. Focus, his brain scolded lightly.

Glumly, he said his prayers, and began plowing away. Tom was quite startled; he hadn't expected himself to be so famished. The spices blended well with the vegetables, providing a taste of the grilled garden. About midway, when his hunger was satisfied, and when he realized he had made two servings, instead of one, he set down his silverware, and began to weep. The taste was too familiar, too painful, too full of heartbreak.

Leaving his unfinished dinner behind, he closed the lights, and decidedly went to bed. Several hours later, when fatigue closed his eyes, and was in dreamworld, a figure visited him.

"It has been a while, Thomas," She smiled sweetly down at him, attired in a shimmering dress of gold. Her eyes gleamed green as ever, and her choco-brown hair was braided in a stunning, regal twist. Her voice, was the music of the waving fields, still harmonious as ever.

"Demi!" struggled Tom in a strangled-like voice. He tried to say something, but couldn't. Several emotions passed at once, anger, pain, love, suffering, happiness….

"Why did you leave me?"

Her smile faded. "It was against my will, you must understand Thomas."

"Love is passionate, Demi. If you had truly loved me, you would have still come for me!" cried Tom in a state of passion and anguish. He felt very out of control.

Her eyes clouded with sorrow.

"Thomas, there is something you need to know…. I am not fully the girl you think I am, mortal Demi. I am Demeter, the immortal goddess of wheat and the garden, and Zeus has commanded us to avoid mortal contact, especially you, as we were becoming unbearably close….. too close for Zeus' liking…"

Her face was moved with pity, as she bent down to take Tom's hands. Tom removed them, sternly, and let out a cold, bitter laugh. "Do you know that I've been a living hell this past year? Stop making excuses out of whimsical myths and legends. Trust me, I've been far past that stage. Stop toying with my feelings, stop playing with me. I am not dumb enough to be used, like a pawn."

Demeter turned her head, a tear glistening. "Then prove to you, I must."

A wave of dust erupted from her hands, and turned to the farmland Tom had tirelessly been toiling on. It turned into the richest soil, complete with rich compost. Tom's jaw dropped open.

"I know you must hate me," she softly said, brushing a tear from his cheek. "after all I've done to you. You have my blessing, Thomas. Yet, I have one more favor to ask of you."

"Anything, Demi- Demeter." Tom's face was now struck with wonder, then love.

"That night we shared together, I got pregnant. It was a girl, and she was born today, just now. I named her Katie. Isn't she lovely?"

She snapped her fingers, and a baby arrived, in a pink cradle. Attached was a note stating 'I love you', in black cursive letters. Tom inhaled sharply.

"She's beautiful."

"When she is 13, you must contact me again. I will send her to a camp, a camp where she will be safe. She is not safe now, unless you protect her, being half-god and half-human. If it were my choice, I would've built a great golden palace, and we would have all lived together. Alas, I have not the power to do so. Keep her well."

Demeter let the faintest of smiles trace her lips, and then disappeared in a shower of gold. Somehow, Tom knew to look away.

The next morning, comforted with the thought of Demi-Demeter watching him and his daughter, Tom planned how he would bring her up. Katie, he mused. He liked the name. And he knew that he would teach her to garden, and be like her mother, so that a part of her lived on.

And so, 13 years later, this story…. begins.

So... Did you like it? Flames are welcome, but not too hot, as this is my first story. Any ideas, suggestions? I would greatly appreciate it if you review.

Yours Truly,

Rae Culver