My SIL Held Her Wedding at My Grandma’s Lake House but Destroyed the Garden and Turned the Yard Into a Dump – So I Brought Her a Wedding Gift She’d Never Forget
An elderly neighbor named Mrs. Collins wandered over carrying lemonade.
“Oh.” She smiled warmly at Kelsey. “You must be today’s gardener.”
Kelsey forced a smile. “I’m only here because Nadia insisted.”
Mrs. Collins looked at me. Then back at Kelsey.
“Penny insisted too.”
“What?”
“She insisted gardens only love people who keep showing up.”
“You must be today’s gardener.”
Kelsey sighed dramatically and knelt beside the first flower bed.
Ten minutes later…
“I think I broke a nail,” she groaned.
Mrs. Collins didn’t even look up from pulling weeds.
By lunchtime Kelsey had dirt on her knees, mud on her shoes, and absolutely no patience left.
“How many have I planted?”
I checked the clipboard.
“Eight.”
She stared at me.
“EIGHT?”
“Only 278 to go.”
Her shoulders slumped.
“Only 278 to go.”
***
The next Saturday, she arrived wearing old jeans instead of designer clothes.
Progress.
Halfway through planting another section she asked, “Why are these spaced so strangely?”
I smiled. “They aren’t. They surround the bench where Grandma and Grandpa celebrated every anniversary.”
She looked at the map. “Oh.”
A week later she pointed toward another bed. “What happened there?”
“Grandma planted bee balm after a difficult summer.”
“Why are these spaced so strangely?”
