Leo smiled. “That’s May’s problem. Right now, we’re still in April.”
Leo poured two cups of coffee (one for him, one for Maya, mostly milk and sugar) and they sat on the porch steps. A bee bumbled past. The air was soft. spring month in usa
That afternoon, they planted tomatoes. Maya dug holes with a trowel that had belonged to her grandmother, her braids coming undone in the humidity. Leo knelt in the dirt, knees popping, and pressed each seedling into the dark soil with a reverence he hadn’t known he still possessed. Leo smiled
“Green is rain. Red is bad. Pink is where you go to the basement.” one for Maya
“Both,” he said. “Takes a while for the ground to thaw. But it always does.”