Free Your Roots Are Showing by Elise Chidley Page A

“Sowwy,” he muttered. “Dint mean to hurt you.”
    “I’m awso sorry,” Ellie added. “We got to take turns, right?”
    “Right,” said the rainbow-colored bear. “So who’s the eldest?”
    “Me!” yelled Alex, slapping his chest.
    “Okay, you get to take me first,” said the bear, and shuffled along the carpet in the boy’s direction.
    “An’ I take you next,” said Ellie happily. She smiled up at Sarah. “Come see our room,” she invited.
    Sarah glanced at Lizzie. “Go ahead,” Lizzie said with a shrug. As they walked off, she heard Ellie asking, “Why you got that shiny stuff in your mouf?”
    Lizzie couldn’t help smiling. If she ever developed a social life, at least she’d have a capable babysitter lined up.
    For someone who didn’t have a social life, Lizzie had a very busy doorbell. Moments after she’d come in from dropping the children off at nursery school the next morning, someone rang it long and loud.
    In spite of herself, Lizzie’s spirits lifted slightly. She padded off in socks, torn old jeans, and an oversized gray sweatshirt to see who it was.
    These days she didn’t bother about niceties like mascara and lipstick. It was quite enough effort just to drag a brush through her hair after she’d cleaned her teeth. Today she was looking particularly disheveled because she’d literally grabbed her clothes from the puddle of unsorted laundry that lay on her bedroom floor. She was probably smelly too, since she hadn’t bothered to take a shower for a day or so.
    “Oh. It’s you.”
    Twinkling up at her from the bottom stair of her doorstep stood Bruno Ardis. Madge wagged her tail at his side. Under his left arm he carried a bristling assortment of garden tools, and he’d taken the liberty of laying out several trays of seedlings on the steps.
    “You up for some gardening this morning?” he asked.
    It was hard to stonewall a man who’d mowed your lawn for free. Perhaps that was his strategy — though why he bothered, Lizzie couldn’t imagine.
    “What if I say no?”
    “I’ll just go and plant these next door. I’m sure Ingrid would enjoy a spot of color in her front border.”
    “I have to tell you, I hate people just turning up to see me out of the blue.”
    “Then you’ll have to give me your phone number.”
    To change the subject, Lizzie took a step outside and bent to examine the plants he’d brought. “What are they?”
    “Violas. Aren’t they sweet? If we put them in now and look after them properly, you should get blooms all through the summer. They’re pretty low maintenance, really. Just keep the soil moist and make sure the weeds don’t choke them. Think you can manage that?”
    “It’s a wonder nobody has got round to choking
you
,” she snapped. “Just because I didn’t know about nettle runners and ground elder doesn’t mean I’m brain dead at gardening. It’s just that I’ve never done it before.”
    Bruno laughed and ran his fingers through his dark curls. “A virgin gardener! And I get to show you the ins and outs! Lucky old me.”
    Lizzie stuck her finger into the moist potting soil around one tiny, fragile plant. It had a single, perfect, purple bloom. “Okay,” she sighed. “Let’s plant the ruddy things out, but please, no more of your wit. Let’s just assume I’m scintillated and leave it at that.” After a sleepless night replaying her entire life in her head, and especially all scenes involving James, she was in no mood for sexual innuendo masquerading as humor.
    “Ouch. What’s the matter — bad night’s sleep?”
    “Yup,” said Lizzie, taking a tray of plants and heading off toward the front of the house. “Nothing new there, though. I don’t think I’ve had a decent night’s sleep since my third trimester.”
    He gazed at her with raised eyebrows. “Since — when?”
    “Since the last months of my pregnancy, more than three flipping years ago,” she explained wearily. “I can tell you’ve never been