“These are all native plants?”
“They are,” Sam said. “I wanted to create a safe haven for native pollinators and birds—”
Bo tuned out. He already knew from Laura that Sam’s hobby was gardening, and he knew from Sam that the people in Sam’s yard right now were from a national gardening magazine. They were scoping out native gardens for a feature in next year’s spring issue and Sam’s had made the cut. Bo had to admit, Sam’s garden was beautiful. Though anything was better than his own. Or rather, Laura’s.
Laura’s backyard was huge to allow for the various animal enclosures. The animals came here when the vets and neighbouring wildlife centres were full, but the animals still needed some recuperating time. As a result, there was very little garden to speak of. The nice thing was that Laura lived on the edge of town, so beyond the enclosures was nothing but field and sky. Way more sky than he was used to seeing from his tiny apartment in downtown Ottawa. It was beautiful. For the first time since he’d moved to Ottawa six years ago, he had the space to breathe.
He finished his morning clean-up while keeping half an ear on the conversation in Sam’s yard. Sam’s garden was just soooo special it would be perfect for next spring’s native plants and pollinators feature! They just had to get the photographers out here right away to get pictures while everything was perfectly in bloom! What would Sam say to being interviewed for the feature?
Barf. Bo tuned out again and scooped poop out of the pig pen. He only had one pig right now, a tiny guy called PomPom. PomPom and his BFF, a pygmy goat named Schnee, had been mildly injured taking a tumble down a hill when their owner, a little girl from a farm further west, thought they could do things dogs could. Schnee had gone home yesterday, but PomPom still needed a few extra days of care. The poor pig had been despondent ever since his best friend left.
Bo could relate.
He finished cleaning the pen, then returned the shovel to the shed. By the time he took a seat on the wooden bench inside the pig pen, the voices from next door were gone.
“Hey, PomPom.” PomPom wandered over to him and regarded him with sad eyes. “I know you miss your friend.” Bo scratched the black patch between the pig’s ears. “But you’ll be together again soon. You just need that cut on your leg to heal. I’m sure Schnee misses you too.”
Unlike Bo’s own friends, who had promised to stay in touch while he spent the summer in Oakville, a suburb west of Toronto, running Laura’s animal rehab centre while she took a wildlife rehabilitation course in British Columbia from May to August. Friends who barely called, who rarely responded to his texts, who’d cancelled plans to visit him over the Victoria Day long weekend last month, who’d already cancelled plans to visit over the Canada Day weekend next month. He’d essentially been dropped like a hot potato. Bo had never felt more alone in his life. The only real conversations he had these days were with S.P. McAuley, who was the author of his favourite web comic, and PomPom the pig.
“You know, I was really looking forward to coming here,” he told PomPom. He’d loved visiting Laura in the last four years she’d taken over running Big Sky from the previous owners. The animals, the open air, quiet town life, the big sky as a backdrop. When Laura had asked him to cover the centre for her, he’d thought it’d be the perfect opportunity to get his shit together after quitting yet another post-grad certification program. He’d never expected to be so lonely.
“I thought I’d have one friend here at least, you know?” he told PomPom. “Laura just talked and talked and talked about how nice her neighbour is. How helpful he is if she needs anything. How he’d be around if I had any questions. I was really looking forward to being his friend.” Couldn’t wait to be his friend, actually. His chest went tight and the weight of loneliness pressed down on his shoulders. For the life of him he couldn’t remember what had happened on his first day to make Sam mad at him, to make him not want to be his friend. Whatever it was must’ve been pretty bad for Sam to be such a jerk all the time. Bo wasn’t even sure the man knew how to smile.
“She said he’s into comics so I brought some of mine I thought he might like, in case he wanted to borrow them.” PomPom snorted and poked him in the leg with his nose. “But I’ve got you, right?” The pig turned and headed for the water pail. Bo sighed. “Guess not.”
On the other side of the fence, Sam squeezed his eyes shut, but it did nothing to stop him from hearing Bo’s sad words. In his defence, he had a lot on his plate right now. Still, that was no excuse for being an asshole to Bo.
Feeling like a class A jerk, he grabbed a gardening pot on his way out of the yard. He waved to Greg and Mary from City Gardens magazine as they backed out of his driveway before once again rounding Bo’s hedges for the second time that morning. Instead of knocking on Bo’s front door however, he unlatched the gate to Bo’s backyard and walked in without an invitation.
The man himself sat on the bottom stair leading up to the deck, eyes on the horizon. Sam often saw him sitting in that exact spot when he looked out of his office window on the second floor of his house. He followed Bo’s gaze. What was Bo looking at? All Sam could see of interest were fields and a few fluffy clouds in the sky.
Bo’s shoulders were hunched, his blond hair sticking to his forehead, likely from having worked up a sweat while working in the warm air this morning. His T-shirt clung to him as he took a deep breath and plucked a piece of grass out of the ground.
He looked pensive as he threaded the grass through his fingers. To Sam, he seemed alone and dejected. Sam had always seen him with his head held high and a fiery spark in his eyes. He couldn’t even reconcile this version of Bo with the one he was used to seeing.
Even though he wasn’t at all Sam’s type, Sam had to admit Bo was really cute.
Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Bo’s phone rang before he could say anything. Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” if Sam wasn’t mistaken. Bo took a look at the caller ID and his shoulders slumped further before he drew them back and answered the call.
“Laura, hey!” Bo’s enthusiasm sounded a bit forced to Sam, but what did he know? “Oh yeah, everything’s great. It’s just me and your chickens right now, and PomPom. Schnee went home yesterday.” He listened for a minute, then said, “I spoke with them yesterday. They’re going to be sending me a pigeon later this week, maybe two. It’s actually pretty quiet right now. May was busier.”
Sam turned to leave, not wanting to intrude, but the sound of his name stopped him.
“Sam’s been great, yeah.” That definitely sounded forced. “Yeah, he helped me fix the lawn mower, just like you said.”
The lawn mower. The one Laura had texted him about a couple days ago, letting him know Bo was going to be coming around for help with it. But Bo never had, probably because on Bo’s first day, when he’d come over to Sam’s to introduce himself, Sam had snapped at him for stepping on his poor seedlings in his front garden.
“Jesus, watch where you’re going! These won’t grow if you trample them. Don’t you pay attention to what’s around you?” That about summed up what Sam had said to interrupt Bo’s friendly, “Hi, I’m Bo!”