The Flower that Couldn’t Bloom

"It's been three full days and there's no sign of flowers yet," Barb said while aggressively poking the dirt in the tiny pot where a seed had just been planted. "Do you think that idiot ripped us off? Probably sold us some bad seeds."

Margaret was about to tell her mother that the flower wouldn't stand a chance if she kept poking it, but she knew it wouldn't make a difference. That poor flower would likely never get an opportunity to grow, and her mother didn't actually care. In fact, if it didn't grow it would just give her something else to complain about, which seemed to be her favourite thing to do. And it definitely wouldn't be her mother's fault if the flowers didn't bloom - nothing was ever her mother's fault.

"Maybe I'll put it on the windowsill so it can get some more sun!" Barb exclaimed, mostly to herself.

"Mom, that guy said direct sunlight would be too harsh for it to grow. I wouldn't-"

Barb, already beyond annoyed, snapped-

"Margaret, I know what I'm doing, okay? I've had more flowers in my lifetime that you can even imagine. Now can you go grab the spray bottle for me? I'm gonna water this thing again."

"Again?" Margaret muttered under her breath.

She thought about pretending she couldn't find it, but she knew that would just make her mother find an alternative watering method. At least a spray bottle was gentler than the bathtub faucet, which Barb had used in the past.

At only 11 years old, Margaret had already come to understand that it was her job to manage her mother's emotions, not the other way around. Wise beyond her years, and already a stressed old soul, she knew better than to disagree on something that ultimately wouldn't impact her life (even if she did really want to see the flowers grow). Like most battles with her mother, it just wasn't worth it, because even if she won she'd lose.

A few hours later, when Barb was consumed by a conversation her neighbours were having just outside the bathroom window, Margaret grabbed the potted seeds from the kitchen windowsill. She could see water puddled on top of the soil, and hoped it wasn't too late to save one of the seeds. Her mother never had to know she'd taken it. After grabbing the mini pot she'd already filled with soil the day before, she carefully removed one of the three seeds from her mother's pot and placed it carefully in her own. She covered the seed with a little more soil, and placed it behind her dresser to keep it safe and out of sight. She placed her mother's drowned seeds back on the kitchen windowsill without issue.

After a week of dedicated care, as well as giving the seed room to do it's thing, a tiny green sprout appeared in Margaret's pot. She almost screamed with excitement, but didn't want her mother to know about this new development. There hadn't been any progress with her mother's seeds, and she knew Barb would claim this one if she knew it was growing successfully. Margaret couldn't stand the thought of her new flower being over watered or scorched in the sunlight, so she decided it would be her little secret forever.

Day after day, Margaret's seed kept showing progress. A little bud had appeared, and any day now the flower would show it's beautiful face. Margaret had no way of knowing what colour this flower would be, but she didn't really care. She was so happy to experience the process of this growth. She imagined, somewhere in an alternate universe maybe, that her mother was proud of her. She'd say "Wow Margaret! You did a great job! Your flower is beautiful!" and they'd hug and go buy more seeds so her mother could try Margaret's way of nurturing. But this was reality, so it came as no surprise when the opposite happened and she heard her mother scream her name in the way that meant she was angry.

Even though Margaret prayed she could keep the flower a secret, her mother found it. She claimed she was in Margaret's room cleaning it as a favour, but they both knew it was a lie. The accusation gave her an automatic excuse to be in there, though, so Margaret couldn't get mad at her without being called spoiled. She did it all the time, using the time to snoop through everything to see if she could find reasons to get mad.

"What's this?!" Barb asked, holding the young flower at an arms length as if she'd just found a crack pipe. "Where did you get this? You are so selfish, how could you lie to me like this?!"

"Mom, I didn't lie. I just wanted to see if I could make a flower grow. And look! I did it!" Margaret said emotionally, noticing a small purple petal had started to appear. Purple was Margaret's favourite colour.

"Oh, get over yourself, Margaret" Barb responded coldly.

For what felt like the hundredth time in her short life, Margaret held back tears and internalized the hatred that had been thrown at her. She knew better than to try to defend herself or try to fix it, but couldn't stop herself from apologizing.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to lie to you. But at least we have a flower now! You can have it if you want. Maybe I can grow another one for myself!"

Margaret watched in disbelief as her mother dropped the small potted flower, maintaining eye contact as it fell to the floor and smashed. There was dirt all over the floor, and the bud of the tiny flower stem had fallen off.

"It was ugly anyway." Barb said, "you should've helped me with my seeds instead. Now clean up this mess."