gardening gals
Quinn
Quinn was meeting up with Ellie and Dina the next day to help in the greenhouse. Quinn would much rather work in the greenhouse than, say, the stables, but Ellie was the complete opposite.
“Another day, another aching back from pulling roots up for hours,” Ellie mutters, snapping on the gloves. Quinn and Dina exchange a look of slight annoyance from Ellie’s exaggeration, both rolling their eyes. They were standing in the middle of the greenhouse, assessing their work for today. Pulling weeds, watering, cutting any ripe fruits or vegetables, picking any contaminated leaves, the works. Although it was winter, the Jackson community has been clever with their gardening to ensure crops all year round. Of course, it was never as great as during the summer, but any food is better than none. Quinn shudders at remembering the last time they were extremely low on food just a few winters ago. Insane amount of rationing, the constant ache of hunger, the desperation for something more sustaining than some stale bread and cans of beans.
“You don’t have to be here,” Dina says to Ellie, putting her hands on her hips. Quinn grins.
“Might be faster if it was just us two,” Quinn teases. Ellie whips around to face her, looking very offended. Quinn laughs.
“You know I’m lying. Now, we have to fill up the water, check for weeds…” Quinn took charge and recounted the tasks on her fingers, and then they split. Usually, they were silent, working fast to get it done and have the rest of the day off. As Quinn was hosing down the crops, she remembers she has laundry to do and internally groans. She always puts off laundry as much as possible, but with the range of three outfits in a zombie apocalypse, it doesn’t work very well.
“Joel and I had another talk last night,” Ellie suddenly says, ripping a weed from the ground. Quinn and Dina usually always assign Ellie to pick weeds for obvious reasons. She usually always has something to fuel herself with. The two exchange a look before Dina hums.
“A talk or…” Dina trails off, knowing exactly what she was implying. Ellie scowls.
“Just a talk.” She places the weed in the bucket and shuffles down the aisle, scrounging through the plants. “I asked him to give me space. And he said…okay.”
Quinn let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She knows she advised Ellie to ask Joel for space, but she was slightly afraid it would blow up in Ellie’s face and then blame Quinn when it did.
“Just like that?” Dina asks, arms crossed. Ellie looks up from where she was crouching, looking at Dina and then to Quinn and their shared dubious look. Ellie shrugs.
“That’s what he said.” Ellie turns to the plants and slams a head on the planter. “Dammit! How did a rabbit get in again?”
Quinn snickers and turns to the planter she was working on, scrounging for any vegetables ready to pick. It did instill a strange sense of pride in Quinn, knowing that the food they helped grow and tend to was used to provide for the entirety of Jackson. How she was able to keep a plant alive enough to make a meal out of things she grew from a seed.
After an hour or so, most of the chores were done. They half-assed the picking part, knowing if the kitchens needed more they’ll pick them themselves, and tore off their dirty gloves. Sweat dripped from Quinn’s forehead, and she always seems to forget how hot the greenhouse gets, no matter how many times they do it.
“Great job team,” Ellie claps, mock beaming at Dina and Quinn. They roll their eyes. They seem to do that a lot whenever it’s the three of them hanging out.
“Yes. All thanks to you,” Dina mumbles, shoving Ellie. Ellie grunts and shoves Dina back.
“I know a different type of green that can help you,” Ellie sing-songs to Dina with suggestive eyebrows. Quinn rubs her forehead, shaking her head.
“You need help,” Quinn says. The three walk out of the greenhouse into the cold winter air.
“Yes, and weed is my help,” Ellie says, leading Dina and Quinn to her apartment. “I could be doing crack.”
At Ellie’s apartment, Ellie grabbed a pre-rolled blunt hidden in the dresser of her desk. Dina was grabbing the lighter, and Quinn was sprawled across Ellie’s couch. Quinn heard the window creak open, the lighter sparking, and then the smell.
“We’ll all share because this is all I grabbed,” Ellie says, taking a hit before passing to Dina. Getting high with the three of them was always fun because usually there wasn’t much talking. Dina and Ellie teased and giggled with each other while Quinn sat and observed, an idiotic grin permanently plastered on her face.
They had only passed the joint around a few times before there was an incessant knocking on Ellie’s door. Dina groans as the knocks wouldn’t let up. Figuring it was Joel, Ellie stood up, waving a quick arm around the room that did absolutely nothing, before opening the door to an impatient Jesse.
“Finally,” he says, charging in. He takes a whiff, and glances at the joint in Quinn’s hand, before shaking his head and turning to Ellie.
“Ellie, it’s Joel,” he says, and Ellie’s eyes immediately went wild, any lingering high dissipating. Quinn’s heart squeezes. Joel?
“The fuck do you mean, ‘it’s Joel’?” Ellie nearly growls, getting close to Jesse’s face.
“He’s at the med center right now,” Jesse says. Quinn and Dina were already throwing on their coats. Relief flooded over Quinn after knowing he wasn’t dead, but then anxiety spiked because what if he was dying? “I’ll explain on the way.”
“Better start talking fast, bud,” Ellie mutters through gritted teeth, and down the road, the four went.