It Takes Work

Written by Hailley Moore

The day they brought me home was the best of my life. I sat on the shelf of the floral section and children try to sneak things into shopping carts while their mothers blazed through a shopping list. And then she came around the corner. She saw me and came right over to pick me up. “Isn’t this plant cute, Declan?”

“I guess. It’s kind of small though, don’t you think, Rebekkah?”

“Small is just what we need in the new house.”

And that was the final word. She bought me. When she carried me out into the parking lot, and I felt the sun shining on me, I knew this was going to be a good life. Rebekkah held me in her lap the whole way. The trees and houses blurred as we drove by and the sun shone into the window. Rebekkah and Declan had an excited conversation, talking about all the things they could do with the new house. They were ready to start their lives together, one step at a time.

When we pulled into the driveway, I could see why they were excited. The house itself was massive. And for being right on the road, they had a good-sized lawn. The porch had a small swing and few cute steps leading up to the front door.

They put me in the front living room window, with my own little rug so I wouldn’t get water all over the wood. That was according to Declan, anyway. I could watch cars pass by, see squirrels, and look at the looming tree across the street. The curtains were never closed, which left me to look out as much as I wanted. And during most of the day, the sun shone right down on me; and my window was warm.

From my perch I could see the whole living room. Most of the colors were dark, black or brown hardwood throughout. But there were pictures and curtains in lighter colors to make the place not so cave-like. I could also see the TV, which we would watch together after long days of unpacking or decorating. Despite all the activity, they never failed to give me food and water at the end of each day. To make sure I wasn’t lonely, Rebekkah would leave the table lamp on all night. I could often hear Declan grumble about what he called a waste of electricity, but she said it would also keep away any bandits.

⁎⁎⁎⁎

Not too long after we had moved in, Declan came home from work with exciting news. Rebekkah was in the kitchen when he burst through the front door. When he slammed it closed I could feel my window shake. He rushed through the room, and his footsteps pounded on the wood. “I got a promotion!”

“What?”

I can still hear their excitement, the laughter, the congratulations. “They said I was overqualified, so they bumped me up.”

“This is fantastic! Now we can start putting more money toward the wedding.”

They didn’t eat in front of the TV that night. They ate at the table in the next room. I could hear them as they chatted throughout, all excited about the things they could work on. Rebekkah insisted on watching their new TV show before going to bed, and they brought out drinks in glasses. Rebekkah gave me water when they went to bed. Declan did the same, even though he never had before. In the light from the lamp, I could see a glass bottle glinting on the coffee table. There was still some liquid inside, and I wondered what it would taste like. I didn’t dare to try it, though. I might have spilled some on the floor.

⁎⁎⁎⁎

Soon the weather began to change. I could see the tree across the street slowly sprout green. The front yard started to do this, too, which meant Declan had to cut it every week. He and Rebekkah were finally settled into the house and I was growing bigger. I could see further out my window into the street, which meant more things to look at.

Declan started to come back later at night, sooner to when Rebekkah would go to bed. I would watch TV with her as she ate or toyed with her phone. Soon I noticed that she wasn’t even watching anymore. She would just stare. One night she waited up for him. He came in as quietly as possible, stopping when he saw her sitting on the couch. “I didn’t think you would still be up.”

“I wanted to talk to you. Can you sit down for a minute?”

He walked over to the couch, setting his case down on the coffee table. “What’s up?”

“I know you’re working overtime, but does it always have to be so late?” She began, holding up her hand to stop him from interrupting. “I know we’ve had this conversation before, but I just want you to hear me out. I think it’s great you’re working so much, especially because you love your job. But I need you here sometimes, too. I mean, we haven’t touched the wedding plans for two weeks. I feel left out of the majority of your daily life. You only come home when I’m asleep now!”

I watched as Declan’s shoulders slumped lower and lower as she continued. He brought a hand up to his face, sliding it over his eyes. When Rebekkah stopped, he didn’t look up but responded from his position. “You’re right. I haven’t been here for you. I’ve been so caught up in work that I haven’t thought about anything else.” He finally looked up at her, and his shoulders straightened a little. “I’ll come home earlier from now on. There’s always work for tomorrow anyway, so all the hours don’t matter much in the long run.”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back, and they went to bed.

⁎⁎⁎⁎

Their heartfelt moment didn’t last long. A few weeks went by, and the weather got hotter. The air conditioner whirred constantly. Rebekkah and Declan would often fight about how it drove up the electric bill. She always said it shouldn’t matter to him, since he was never there. That tactic never went well.

It was worse when there was nothing. Declan would get up in the morning and Rebekkah would stay in bed. She went into her home office less and less and always opted to watch TV with me instead. Sometimes she would look out the window, as if hoping to see his car in the driveway. ¬More often than not, Rebekkah would go to bed without giving me water. She would also forget to turn on the light, which left the living room in shadow cast by the streetlamp outside.

Declan would come in quietly at first. But as time went on, he would stop trying. The door would slam, his feet would shake the wood, and he would clatter ceramic trying to reheat dinner. Sometimes we would watch TV together, still with the lamp off. That often caused him to spill food on the floor, which he never bothered to pick up.

My leaves started to droop from the lack of water. I watched them move around in the mornings, watched Rebekkah all day, and each time I hoped they would notice me. We were a family, after all. One morning, I got my wish. “That plant is going to die.”

Rebekkah glanced at Declan, then she looked over at me. “All he needs is a little love.”

“Why don’t you get on that then?”

He left for work, leaving Rebekkah on the couch with dishes about the room. After a moment she got up and walked over to me. She took my pot and carried me into the kitchen. She held me under the faucet for a moment and filled the dry dirt with water. She left me there in the kitchen on the windowsill. I watched her slowly do the dishes as water dropped down from her eyes into the sink.

Later that night, after Rebekkah was already in bed, I heard Declan come in from work. He attempted to be quiet this time, and he didn’t turn on any lights. Rebekkah still knew he had come home. By the time Declan made it to the kitchen to rummage in the fridge, I saw the hall light flick on. Rebekkah came to stand in the doorway, her face in shadow as she was lit from behind. Declan didn’t bother to turn and look at her, even though she watched him as he built his dinner.

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Honestly, I couldn’t care less. You know I’m working, so it shouldn’t matter when I finish.”

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

“There’s nothing to do! We’re living our lives and it’s as simple as that.”

Declan threw the empty plate into the sink. Shards flew up and skidded across the tiled floor as they landed. “Oh, hell. You know where the broom is. Why don’t you add this to the trash pile, too?”

I watched as she slid her ring off and set it on the table before she went back into the bedroom. I heard the flick of the hallway light and the click of the lock as it slid into place. I watched as Declan slowly turned from the counter and finally faced the doorway. He cleaned up the mess and put the ring in his pocket before he went into the living room. I heard the front door open and close a moment later.

⁎⁎⁎⁎

The next day, Rebekkah moved me back to my living room window. She didn’t mope around. I hardly saw her. But I could hear as she shuffled in various rooms, loud bangs followed by choice words. By the end of her endeavors, she flopped onto the couch, one arm slung across her eyes. When she got up, she came over to my window and looked out. After a moment she huffed and yanked the curtains closed. She turned to lock the front door before she went into her bedroom.

Declan didn’t come back that night. He didn’t come back the next night either. With the curtains closed, I couldn’t watch for his car to pull into the driveway like I had every other night. Despite the water Rebekkah had given me, I could feel my leaves begin to droop. It had been a temporary fix.

When he came back, Rebekkah was sitting on the couch with a book. She didn’t look up when he stepped inside, but I saw her eyes shift toward him. “I’ve packed all your stuff. I want you to grab it and get out.”

“You didn’t even talk to me.”

“I’m sorry, when were you available for a conversation? Should I have scheduled?”

Declan threw his briefcase down onto the floor and stomped over to the other side of the coffee table to face her. “Don’t do this. We both know what this is about, and you don’t want to kick me out.”

She put the book down and looked up at him. “Tell me, what is this about?”

“All the overtime I’ve been working.”

She laughed to herself a little, looking away. “Oh, okay. This still doesn’t change my mind. I tried to have a conversation many times. We actually had one, remember? But nothing changed.”

“I can change, Bek. We can work on it right now, I’m here. Just talk to me.”

“Why are you still playing dumb?” she said as she stood up. “There’s nothing to work out. I want you gone, that’s it. I’ll cancel all the wedding plans; I’ll pack up and sell the house. I already gave you back the ring. There’s nothing for you to do but grab your shit and leave.”

“Bek-“

“I don’t care who she is or where she came from. Just get out of my house!”

“My name is on this dump just as yours is! You can’t just kick me out!”

He stomped around the table toward the couch, but she backed away. “Just give me an excuse to call the police.”

He stopped and his eyes flicked back and forth across her face. His shoulders slumped. Without a word, he spun around and stomped to the bedroom to grab his stuff. After everything had been loaded into his car, I watched as Declan took his house key off his ring and set it on the table. He walked out and slammed the door as Rebekkah surveyed the room.

Over the next week, I saw her make phone call after phone call. Florists, guests, caterers, tailors. It seemed like it was never ending. And then I watched as she boxed the house up once again. Throughout it all, Rebekkah kept the curtains closed. The sun never shone on my window, and it became cold. She never gave me water, and I could feel myself slowly become drained.

When the movers came, they took everything. The only thing that remained was me. They asked her what she wanted done with me. They saw my brown leaves and chuckled to themselves as they waited for her answer. She looked over her shoulder at me, and I could see that her eyes started to drown. She faced forward again. “Just throw it out by the trash can on the corner.”

As they carried me out, all I could think was I was seeing the sun for the first time in days. They sat me down in the green grass. That was when I saw the for-sale sign in the yard. Now, as I watch Rebekkah get into her loaded car to drive away, I wonder if it was all worth it. Those two were the best family I could have asked for. Everything just ended too soon. But it doesn’t matter now because I’m finally warm again. And everything is fading to black.

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Hailley Moore is the author of It Takes Work. She is a current undergrad at Ohio University working toward a degree in English Literature and Writing with a minor in History. She currently lives in Baltimore, Ohio with her family, three dogs, and one cat. In her free time, she can be found reading, snacking, and petting as many dogs as she can find.