-Mornin', Sam.
-Hey, Carter. The regular?
-I want a flat-top today, my friend.
-A flat-top? Well, step right up and sit right down.
-Yeah, if my girl has the burden of seeing only one misshapen head when she opens her eyes every morning of every day for the balance of her life, I figure I should at least fashion it different every once in a while.
-Well, I'll do my best. For Katie's sake, of course.
BUZZ
-How's she been since her mamma passed away?
-It took a while, but she's comin' around. It was three weeks before she got back in the garden. When she did it was more like she was beatin' it than tryin' to get somethin' out of it.
-I'll be danged, Carter, your fingernails are dirty. You've been out there tryin' to help her and if I know you, that was a mistake of the first degree.
-You're a master of Sherlockian deduction, Sam Foster.
-That's my job.
-When I got home yesterday, she was out for a stroll down to Dosser's. I figured I had 30 minutes so I jumped in my coveralls; didn't figure Mr. Sinclair would give two straws about my inaugural attempts at husbandry if I showed up next week with soiled trousers. Anyway, I was pulling weeds as hard as I could go. I swear I was throwing so much dirt around you coulda planted a row of turnips up there yesterday instead of a flat-top.
-Still could, Carter.
-Then I goofed. With the weeds cleared and Katie not back, I cut a few of the squash that looked ready. Then a few peppers. And the watermelon. Katie walked up. That astonished look quickly changed to one of consternation, then downright hatred. She didn't say anything. She just walked right up and punched me in the chest. Why are you laughing, Sam?
-No reason.
-I'm not kidding. We've been married 12 years and that's the first time she's ever touched me in anger. Then she just plops down and starts wailing about me ruining the entire crop of squash, peppers, and "oh, what a bitter watermelon that's going to be!" I was just standing there rubbing my chest. This was the first time in two months I've seen her let loose, Sam.
-Rudyard Kipling said "The atmosphere was charged and needed clearing."
-That's exactly what happened. She looked up at me after a minute and it was over. "Carter Dixon," she said, "you are the worst gardener this side of the big muddy. You've weeded out an entire row of okra and left all the weeds in their stead. You've cut squash that needed 10 more days on the plant, and I might as well crack this under-ripe watermelon over your filthy head. But you did it for me and my garden has never been ruined so well. I love you." Then she hugged me and the tears not only mended my sore chest, but smeared in the dirt on my coveralls and made for a hilarious sight.
BUZZ
-Sam, I noticed something when she looked up at me. The muddy tears trailed down and stopped at a new wrinkle at the corner of her mouth I had never seen before. I didn't mention it to her and probably never will but I think it came from those last two hard months. I know that girl now like I didn't know her in May. I love that wrinkle, Sam.
BUZZ
-Well, there you are, master gardener, the best flat-top you ever had. For Katie's sake, of course.
