#frankie if you mind please let me know and I'll untag you

[areyoudoingthis]

@babykittenteach I hope you don't mind, your post inspired me to write a thing.

Ed frowns when Stede first brings the things home. They're small and brown and shriveled, and he doesn't get why Stede is so excited about them.

But then again, he doesn't get gardening as a whole. Getting down in the dirt, digging where the creepy, crawly things live. He doesn't get Stede, who owns five different kinds of lotions for his face and hands alone, enjoying getting dirt under his fingernails that is a nightmare to scrub out later.

But he does enjoy the results of the whole thing. He enjoys the pretty, colorful flowers, the way they perfume the air around the house. He enjoys watching Stede dig around in his patch for fresh vegetables, and the excitement in his face and in his voice when he brings them over to Ed and shows them to him like they're his most prized possessions. He enjoys coming up with recipes to cook them, and he enjoys the pleased smile that blooms on Stede's face when he eats the meals that Ed makes with the food he grows.

So what does he know, maybe this is another one of those things he doesn't understand but will get to enjoy later.

He forgets all about Stede's ugly brown bulbs, distracted by domestic tasks and warm evenings spent by their new fireplace and the work that still needs to be done to get the house ready for the colder months. He only remembers them when, on a damp winter day, when he's tired and grumpy because the humidity and the cold are giving his knee grief and keeping him up at night, he spots tiny dots of colors bursting through the dead winter garden.

He calls out to Stede, and the usual excited look is back in full force when he sees what Ed is pointing at.

“It's the bulbs I planted, Ed! They're usually the first thing to grow when everything else is still brown and sleeping until spring. I used to love going for walks and watching out for the first bulbs of the season when I was a kid.”

He goes on to explain that if he lets them, they will reproduce and next year there'll be even more of them. Suddenly Ed has something to look forward to next winter.

Within days, their garden is awash in color again, even though everything else is still weeks from turning remotely green and the cold will keep hounding Ed's achy joints for a while yet.

He sits on the porch with a steaming cup of sweet tea every afternoon in spite of the weather though, and lets the bright, happy results of Stede's hard work cheer him up until the spring returns.