Prompt #16: Squash
"Oh…dear..."
"Nellie?" Frank's voice called from the other side of the apple orchard. "What is it?"
There was no reply.
"Nellie?"
He heard a gentle sniffling.
"Nellie!"
Frank strode through the trees toward his wife's garden. She sat in the dirt, but quickly clambered to her feet as he approached, dashing her eyes with the back of her hand.
"What's wrong?" He asked, scanning her face anxiously.
"It's…nothing," she said, sniffing again. "Nothing, I'm fine, dear." But tears filled her eyes again, belying her words.
"No—no, darling—" he pulled her into his arms. "What is it, Nellie, what's happened?"
"Nothing's happened…oh, Frank…it's, it's nothing, it's stupid…"
"Obviously not! Come on, tell me, sweetheart."
"It's just…" she turned a bit in his arms, freeing a hand to gesture behind her. The summer squash, planted a week ago, had flourished up in the way of all things in the young air of the new world. Blossoms peeked from behind every broad dark leaf, and some of the fruits, with their smooth yellow and green flesh, were piled where Helen had been working. "There's so much, Frank, and…"
Frank looked at the pile more closely. Indeed, several of the green squashes were long and thick as his arm, and he could see, looking at the plants, that she wasn't nearly done harvesting this batch.
"Well, yes, dear…but isn't that a blessing?"
She gave a choked-off noise that could have been a laugh or a sob. "I know….it's stupid, Frank…but, how are we going to prepare it all? I've nothing to can with—and if I did, that's days of work, and I like it, but it's so much…"
"Nellie, everyone would love to help you. Just ask the dryads, or anyone! And if there's too much, just give it away! The Rabbits, at least, would love it, and I'm sure squash is to someone else's taste, too. It's bounty, love, not anything to cry over!"
"I know, Frank…but when I think of home—I mean, England…and mum with her little garden, and she worked so hard and was so happy to get every little bit out of it, and now…here…" She sucked in a sob, again, and Frank tightened his arms around her.
"Oh, sweetheart." He stroked her hair.
Eventually her tears tapered off, and she drew back from him, sniffling again. He looked at her with sympathetic concern.
She glanced back down at the pile of squash, and her lips twitched in a smile. His brows raised.
Suddenly they both started giggling.
"Oh, Frank, I love you," Helen sighed at last.
His smile gentled. He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.
"Should I help you finish this?" He asked.
She nodded. "Don't worry, dear—I think I'm done crying over squash for today."
"Good." He kissed her head. "Your mum would have loved it here. So let's can squash for her, hmm?"
She giggled again, slightly wetly, and together they stepped back into the garden.
A/N: With regards to my parents' garden, and the baseball-bat-sized zucchini it produces!