A Sweet Little House Plant

        There are three main reasons as to why I rarely have guests over anymore. First, the town I have chosen to settle down in has nothing to do, and my guests always end up being bored. Second, I prefer to be held up in my house doing chores and crafts; they keep me satisfied. The final reason is because of my very temperamental house plant. When guests are over he gets very jealous and angry because he is not the only one getting my attention. He gets so upset, and then I always have to end up running downtown to the pet store so that he will be happy again, not that I mind. There was only one time, in the twenty-five years I’ve had him, that I couldn’t make it to the pet store and had to improvise.

        It was a few years back, when my three lovely nieces, ages eleven, nine, and six, came to stay the night with me. My younger sister and her husband were having issues rekindling their marriage with all the kids around, so I offered to keep them for a night.

They arrived at my house in the early evening; the girls ran through the door and jumped into my arms, enveloping me in their strawberry blonde curls. We laughed loudly, and my sister came in holding her newborn baby, her husband close behind with an armful of bags. She handed me the baby, and I gave her a look of disgust.

“ I never even watched the girls as babies, why are you doing this to me?” I held it towards her, but my little sister gave me a pleading look with her eyes. It made me feel sympathetic, so I complied and allowed it to stay. She kissed the girls goodbye, patted the baby on the head, and left in a hurry.

        I immediately regretted my decision. It cried all evening, wailing like a banshee. I talked the girls into feeding it, but they refused diaper duty, so that was my task. I changed it multiple times and its poop looked like tar, black and thick. I laid it in its pen and ran to the bathroom after every encounter to throw up. I was utterly disgusted and ended up giving it some homemade medicine my plant taught me to make, so it would sleep and leave me alone. It took another hour for the medicine to kick in, and by that time the sun had set and the stars were out.

        That night, after I finally got the baby down and into the small office where I had set up its bed, the girls and I had the best time. It had had my attention for the majority of the day, and I was glad to be able to give them a share as well. We ate thick-crust pepperoni pizza, played board games that I let them win, and made our own triple decker sundaes, each unique to its creator. We were all giggling away having the best time; I even talked them into making crafts. They each made a bracelet, and I made us all matching ones, with purple, green, brown, and white yarn. We all got a little gassy from the pizza and started making jokes. I laughed so hard I’m pretty sure I peed a little.

After the slap of happiness receded, I realized it was well past 1:00 a.m., so we all went upstairs. While going up the staircase I watched them extra close, being sure they held onto the white rail and watched their step. We went to the guest bedroom, which I had made up for them. They all three slept in the same king-sized bed, each curled up in their own blanket. I gave them each their favorite stuffy and stroked their hair as I got up to leave. “Aunt Jo, could you tell us a story first?”

“Of course my loves. What would you like to hear?”

“Can you tell us the story about the plant again? It’s our absolute favorite.”

“Sure, even though you’ve heard it a hundred times.” I laid at the foot of the bed making myself comfortable before I started. “When I was a little girl, around the time your mother was born, I became very sick and lonely. You see, I didn’t like babies, and just looking at one made me sick. I got to the point where I refused to leave my room for months, and would sit at my window seat, staring out my window. I would look out at the woods behind our house, with a blank stare and tears streaking my face. I wouldn’t eat, or talk, or move. This made me even more sick.”

“It was a sadness sickness, right Auntie Jo, because you were lonely?”

“Yes, dear. One day, I decided I was ready to go out and take a walk through the woods. I smelled the fresh air, with birds singing and leaves rustling in the cool wind, when suddenly I heard crying. I followed the sound. After a while I stumbled upon the smallest plant I had ever seen, with green heart shaped leaves– only two– and a thin pale stem. It looked so sad. I knelt down and spoke to it, telling him I was sad, too. That I’d been replaced, and I had no one to love me. He spoke back, saying we could be friends and he could make me better. So I took him home, put him in a pot and kept him in my room. I watered him, took him everywhere I went, and gave him more than enough attention. Within a week of having him, he flourished and grew to half my size, with at least a dozen leaves. He protected me from bad things, spoke to me when I was lonely, and made me laugh almost as much as you girls do.” I pinched their toes when I said this, making them giggle.

“It all seemed great, but I quickly found out how jealous he could be. Your mother got older, and I grew to enjoy her company. We spent lots of time together, playing with dolls and having tea parties in the backyard. He’d get violently mad at not being the center of my attention, snapping at me with his teeth and making threats at me and whoever I was with. The only way to make him happy was to go and get him a treat.”

“From where, Autie Joe?!” they squealed goofily, pulling the blankets to their mouths hiding their anticipation and smiles.

“The pet store, but only when he was jealous. Not all the time, I mean I wouldn’t want him to be spoiled. He’d eat the animals and be happy. I loved him and he loved me.”

“Loved?”

“Well, still love. I still have him downstairs on the sun porch at the back of the house. Such a lovely thing.”

“Do you still get lonely?”

I let out a loud burp then and we started giggling again. They thanked me for the story and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I was about to head out when they begged me to stay till they fell asleep. I wasn’t surprised though; they had been doing this since they were old enough to start staying the night. I lay back down at the end of the bed, yawning like crazy.

I knocked out within seconds, dreaming of the wonderful day I had with the girls, their little white hands gripping mine as we laughed together. They always brought me such joy. I was smiling in my sleep and I knew it, but all of a sudden I was jolted awake. I had fallen asleep and not coddled my sweet plant in hours.

        I rushed downstairs to see him, only to find that he was already mad. Actually, more than just mad. His big leaves turned a blood red and his water evaporated as he entered a white hot rage, ultimately drying out his soil and creating condensation on the window he was by. “Please, no my honey, it’s not my fault, it was the babies. I’m here.” He let out a low growl and snapped his sharp petaled teeth at me. I yanked my hand back, but not before one of his teeth left a long red line down my forearm.

It was too late to go to the pet store, and I didn’t have what he needed on hand. Not knowing what to do, I screamed with frustration, quickly putting my hand on my mouth afterwards. I then went to check on the girls, hoping I did not wake them. All were asleep, their innocent sleeping faces letting out small snores.

I slunk back downstairs and into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind me. My face had turned blotchy as tears streamed out of my light-colored eyes. I shook as I brushed them away, not knowing what to do. I stared into the mirror until I could no longer recognize who was staring back at me, then I sunk to the floor hugging my knees. I rocked back and forth, whispering to myself “I need him,” over and over again.

As if things couldn’t be worse, the baby started crying. I walked quickly to it, pulling it out of its pin and glaring at it.

“Why anyone would love this loud, pale, messy thing is beyond me.” I cocked my head at it and examined how big it was. About the size of a large cat. “I really need to make my plant happy, no hard feelings. Really,” I told it. I wrapped the baby up tightly in its ugly blue blanket and rocked it as we left the room, making our way down the hall. I took it and stood by the plant continuing to bounce the baby on my hip.

In a moment, my sweet plant was his old self again. I caressed his stem and leaned my lips close to him as I breathed deep, smelling his earthy aroma. I gave him some water and patted his heart-shaped leaves. Then I left the back sunporch, turning at the door frame to blow him a kiss. After moving through the white sheet that acted as a door, I continued my route going through the kitchen and to the living room to plant myself on the blue flowered couch, where I slept the rest of the night.

The next morning, my sister came back from her night out, almost glowing. She said her husband was still drunk from the night before so she had to get the kids by herself. She showed me pictures from her night and asked how everything went with the sleepover. I told her we had a great time and replayed the night's events for her. She went to the sunporch and looked at my plant. “A beautiful creature, isn’t he?” I said. He was still working down his treat from last night. My sister looked at me with wonder and then she ran upstairs, grabbed the girls and left. She called me a few days later.

“Jo, you can’t keep doing these things. What’s next? Random people off the street?”

“I was in dire need, so I did the only reasonable solution. Don’t be mad. It’s not a big deal.”

She sobbed into the phone, “yeah, easy for you to say, you have no one.” I hung up on her.

I felt bad for hanging up, so I called her back and we made up. We have been in touch quite a bit. Though I am allowed to receive visits from the girls, they are never allowed to stay over, no matter how much they beg their mother. She seemed to not be angry with me, and we never talked about the baby or the plant again; she told me that if the girls asked about it, then to tell them it was in a better home, whatever that meant.

I used to feel bad about sacrificing animals for him, but we have a new method now. He likes bigger meals, he told me so. And if you’re wondering, it's worth every bit to keep my sweet house plant happy.