Mud boy and Flower girl

They met in 1978. But that’s not the whole story. Intricate, bright-orange begonia-printed fabric fluttered in the September breeze. A pair of simple red boots stepped lightly on the freshly fallen oak leaves. Small, delicate hands holding a large wicker basket. A bright and happy tune whistled by a sweet, pretty voice. And — Crunch! The young girl tripped and fell sideways, her wicker basket flying out of her hand. She landed on the ground. Wait, no. Why was the ground squishy? “OWWW!” And the ground didn’t usually yell, did it? The girl looked down, and her eyes widened into the size of the large buttons sewn onto her cream cardigan. As quick as a squirrel, she backed away and stood up. “Oh, dear, I am so sorry!” The girl exclaimed, horrified. One of her now-empty hands automatically went up to her face and covered her mouth. “I- I didn’t see you there, and I was whistling and daydreaming — I know that’s not proper, but the thing is I tripped over you and-and… I’m just—” Still laying on the ground, covered in sticky brown mud, the boy laughed. “Don’t worry about it, miss! It’s my fault, really — laying on the ground covered in mud that’s the same color as dirt? My mistake,” he admitted. “But, you, miss — are you alright? Seeing as you did fall and all.” The girl blinked. It wasn’t usual for someone to be kind to her. Most of the time, people didn’t even bother to talk to her. And when they did, it was to point out how her outfit wasn’t well-coordinated enough, or her hair was braided the wrong way, or she talked too loud and needed to quiet down like a proper lady. So the girl stood still for a moment, mentally debating whether this mud-covered boy was mocking her or not. But the boy was looking up at her with what seemed like genuine concern in his bright, emerald green eyes. “I am alright,” the girl decided. “It’s just…” she glanced down at her begonia dress, which was now more brown than orange. “This was my mother’s dress before she passed away. It’s one of the only memories I have of her left. And now… it’s covered in mud.” The Mud Boy — the girl was starting to think of him as that now — slowly stood up. His full height was impressive, at least six feet. “Oh, I- I didn’t know that, miss. I apologize. For the dress,” he paused. “... and for your mother. Is there anything I can do to make up for this?” The girl thought for a minute, then said: “Well, yes. I was just heading to the apple grove to pick some Cox’s Orange Pippen and Gala apples, since I’m planning to bake apple pie this evening. What do you say to come help me?” Then the girl pointed behind her at a quaint, rustic red house atop a small hill. “I live right over there in the farmhouse — if you help me pick apples, you’ll get your fair share of pie.” The Mud Boy nodded, smiling. That’s quite a dashing smile, the girl thought, involuntarily. “I think that’s a great plan. I was going to purchase some apples at the market, but homemade apple pie is evidently better,” He said. “Just don’t poison me, alright?” The girl shrugged in return. “What’s your name, miss?” The Mud Boy asked, curious. The girl wondered if she should tell the boy ‘Elizabeth' — it was the name she used whenever someone asked, since her foster father said her real name wasn’t pretty and didn’t suit a girl. But the girl decided not to lie to the boy. “Ainsley — Ainsley Carter.” The girl replied, grinning. “Hmm… Ainsley,” The Mud Boy tried out. “I quite like that.” He said honestly. “And I’m Angus — Angus Miller.” ~ “Okay, Angus, you’ve made me shut my eyes for way too long. I must know why, and why you woke me up at 5 am. Can I open them now?” Ainsley pleaded. Angus smiled slightly, tilting his head down to look at Ainsley. She’s so beautiful, he thought. And it was true — Ainsley’s long, silky blonde hair fell down to her waist, which was cinched by a chunky belt. Her outfit was simple; a pair of old trousers paired with a practical white blouse. Angus’ pulse quickened just thinking about what was about to happen. “Alright, open your eyes.” He whispered into Ainsley’s ear. Ainsley’s eyes flitted open, long eyelashes fluttering, revealing warm brown eyes. Those beautiful eyes widened when they saw the scene in front of them: a pretty green-and-white crossed blanket spread out on the grassy hill, covered with countless sorts of delicious confectionaries. The most stunning thing about the location, though, was the sea of gorgeous, purple Irises. They seemed to glow in the dim early morning light. “I- just wow,” Ainsley breathed quietly, as if the incredible scenery were paper and speaking too loud would rip it to shreds. “This is amazing. Thank you, Mud Boy.” She said sincerely. Angus raised his eyebrows. “‘Mud Boy’?” He questioned. Ainsley inhaled. “Yeah,” she nodded. “Mud Boy.” “Okay, then. Will you be my Flower Girl?” Angus asked shyly, fiddling with the button on his satin shirt. He chose the shirt just for the occasion, hoping that its fiery orange color would appeal to Ainsley. Ainsley gazed at Angus, the rising sun giving his short brown hair a glossy sheen. “And what do you mean by that?” Angus answered by crossing to the blanket on the grass in two long strides, bending over, and gently pulling something from a basket. He walked back to Ainsley’s side and handed her the item. It was a square-ish parcel, wrapped by a white cloth. After looking up and receiving an encouraging nod, Ainsley softly unwrapped the parcel. Inside, was a beautiful knee-length dress in countless different shades of sunny yellow, orange and pink. , Purple Irises, large and small, were printed all over it. “This is… for me?” Ainsley asked doubtfully. Angus nodded. “Where’d you get this? It’s so funky and colorful and… me.” Ainsley said, staring in awe at the dress. She’d often imagined what dresses she would have if she had her own choice. This was exactly what she’d pictured — except, somehow, even better. “I made it,” Angus stated proudly. “I know the first time we met last year you said that if I helped you pick apples, you’d forgive me for ruining your dress. And I never told you this, but I always felt guilty and couldn’t let it go. So I went to town and picked up a few fabrics and a sewing machine and somehow, I figured out how to use it, so…” He gestured at the dress in Ainsley’s hands. “This is what was born.” Ainsley was speechless. Never in her entire 15 years of life had she imagined someone would spend so much time and effort and even money on her. Her. “So, what do you say? Wanna become Mud Boy and flower Girl and watch the sunrise together? Sounds pretty funky to me.” Angus laughed hopefully. Ainsley looked at the dress. Then at Angus. Then the dress. And Angus again. Suddenly, her beautiful porcelain face broke into a huge smile: “Yes.” ~ “And now, Hopkins academy’s valedictorian of the graduating class of 1984 will give a speech! Let’s all warmly welcome to the stage — Ainsley Carter!” The principal yelled into the microphone. Ainsley got up from the crowd of graduating seniors, walking confidently towards the stage. She was wearing the Iris dress Angus gave to her on their first date. She’s amazing, a starstruck Angus gazed at Ainsley from the bleachers. Then, he cupped his hands around his mouth. “WHOOOO! GO AINSLEY! THAT’S MY GIR- WOMAN! I MEANT WOMAN!” He corrected himself. “THAT’S MY WOMAN!” The crowd of students, parents, and school staff all laughed. In the three years of Ainsley and Angus’ relationship, they’d become the most popular and loved couple in Hopkins academy. They were known as the Flower Power Couple, since they both had kind, caring personalities and brought positivity and fun everywhere they went. And flowers, too. Well, that was mostly on Ainsley’s part, since she tended to wear floral-printed everything. As Ainsley finished the speech, she walked towards Angus amidst thunderous clapping. “Hey…” She whispered. “You told me you got into Harvard.” Angus nodded slowly. “Yes…?” Ainsley grinned excitedly and began to hop up and down. “I got in, too! I only had time to check my mailbox an hour before my speech, and there it was — the acceptance letter! It had the stamp and official seal and everything! I even got chosen for the $3000 scholarship, which means… we’re going to university together!” If you were to walk onto Hopkins academy’s football field at that moment, you would see a boy and girl, dressed in bright colors, jumping around happily, imagining their future together. ~ “Okay, back, back, back… no! Too far back!” Ainsley sighed. “I have never struggled more with something in my entire life than this couch,” she stated. Angus laughed. Now 19, he kept his hair in a mullet, some wavy brown strands escaping from behind his ears. “Or maybe you’re just bad with furniture.” He suggested. “Or, maybe you’re the problem!” Ainsley countered. Angus shook his head. “Nah, that’s not it. Y’know the five stages of grief? You’re currently in stage one: denial. C’mon, just accept defeat and admit you’re bad with furniture!” He raised an eyebrow, challenging Ainsley. “You’re just distracting me with your new hair and unfairly perfect cheekbones and pretty eyes. They look just like emeralds.” Ainsley confessed. The tall boy laughed once more, dropping his end of the couch and approaching Y/n. “Hmm? What did you say about my awesome cheekbones and irresistible hair?” He said teasingly, lifting Ainsley’s chin up tenderly with his fingers. Ainsley' kept her posture straight, shoulders back and facial expression blank. But looking up into Angus’ soft eyes, she couldn’t help but remember the first day they met. Mud. Apples. And those annoyingly captivating green eyes. Unable to resist herself, Ainsley stood up on the tips of her purple boots and quickly pecked Angus on the mouth. “Okay, fine — you win, Mud Boy,” Ainsley rolled her eyes, honestly more annoyed at herself than at Angus. Angus’ heart fluttered the moment Ainsley used the old nickname. He stood frozen, smiling dumbly. Ainsley snapped her short red polish-clad nails in front of Angus' face. “Hey, Earth to Angus! Get to work, Mud Boy. We have a college dorm to decorate.” ~ "Angus, I wanted to tell you something.” Ainsley told Angus as they climbed into “Yeah, Ains?” Angus asked curiously. “I got the offer for the Junior Fashion Designer job position at that company I told you about,” Ainsley said enthusiastically. Angus grinned. “Wow, Ainsley! Good job — you were the top student in most of your classes and you were president of Harvard’s Fashion Club.” He listed off Ainsley’s accomplishments loftily. “I’m proud of you. Look at flower Girl now!” He joked. Ainsley smiled, both at Angus’ kind words and the use of the nickname. “Thanks, Mud Boy.” She replied. Angus leaned over. “Hey — I was going to keep it a surprise until we got back to our dorm and finished moving out, but I can’t wait anymore,” he grinned. “I may or may not have been shortlisted for IT Specialist… it’s the job I’ve ranted to you about for months!” “Oh, God — we’re gonna have real-life, paying jobs! We’re gonna get money, do our own taxes, pay our own bills and be actual adults!” Ainsley exclaimed. “I’m so excited… but I’m kind of nervous, too.” Angus reached out and clasped Ainsley’s hand in his. “Don’t worry, Ains. We’re unstoppable — remember, you’re not alone. It’s flower Girl and Mud Boy against the world.” ~ “Dad, Liam won’t give me my Tomagotchi!” An annoyed teenage voice called out. “And before you say ‘be nice to your brother and ask kindly’, I HAVE! He just won’t LISTEN!” Angus sighed. “Lee, honey! I’m making dinner — your favorite! Mac and cheese with extra cheddar like you love!” He called, craning his neck back and yelling into the hall that branched off from the kitchen. “THANKS DAD! BUT I’M NOT GIVING CHARLIE HER TAMAGOTCHI BACK!” A young male voice responded. “AND IF YOU THINK YOU ADDED ENOUGH CHEDDAR, IT’S NOT — ADD MORE!” The sound of keys clicking in a lock turned Angus’ attention to the front door of the house. A moment later, a middle-aged woman wearing a light green skirt and a dark green blouse stepped into the house, carrying numerous overflowing shopping bags in her arms. She struggled to close and lock the door behind her while simultaneously trying to set down the bags and unlace her ankle boots. Angus laughed heartily. “Hey, Ains. Looks like some Kraft mac and cheese is exactly what you need.” Ainsley grinned, and Angus couldn’t help but feel astonished that she looked nearly the same as years ago, when they first met on Ainsley’s farm. “Uh, big talk, Mud Boy. Chop chop! You say there’s mac and cheese? Well, hand it over, huh?” Ainsley teased. “Don’t you feel bad for your wife who just came back from a long day of trying to get a crochet pattern right?” Years may have passed, Angus thought as he passed Ainsley a bowl of warm mac and cheese. But I still love you the same. ~ “Alright, mom, I’ll call you back. David’s having a hard time changing Archie’s diaper.” Charlie said through the phone. “Ahh, fond memories are coming back,” Ainsley joked, looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her hair was slightly gray now, no longer the shiny Blonde it used to be when she was young. Wrinkles and smile lines had started to slowly creep up onto her face, around her lips and eyes, which were, fortunately, still the same shade of soft brown. Charlie laughed in the call. “I don’t want to hear the details, mom. Talk to you soon, okay? Love you!” The call ended with a beep. Ainsley walked out from the washroom and into the living room of her house. It was difficult to imagine that Angus and her had bought the house almost 40 years ago, when they were 25. Ainsley walked over to the dozens of family photos hanging on the walls. Her daughter Charlie and her son Liam making weird faces in front of the doors into Disneyland. Charlie, Liam, Angus, and herself in a canoe in the middle of Moraine Lake, in Alberta, photo taken using a rickety selfie stick. Angus at the beach on the 4th of July years ago, a heavily pregnant Ainsley standing smiling beside him, toddler Charlie playing with sand at their feet. We’ve built a beautiful family, Ainsley thought, heart full. Suddenly, her phone rang. The call came with the worst news of her life. ~ The cool, long grass tickled Ainsley’s ankles as she sat cross-legged on the ground in front of Angus’ gravestone. It was around 5 in the morning. Silence filled the air. Ainsley was alone. “I know the funeral was months ago. Y-yet I am still in shock. Is that a stage in that five stages of grief thing you talked about so much? Maybe not. But I do know that depression and anger are two of the stages,” Ainsley spoke quietly. She took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of nature. She’d chosen to place Angus’ grave there for its location: surrounded by trees and near a running creek, but mostly because it was right next to the farm. The farm where she grew up. The farm where she first met Angus. “Angus — when we met, we were still so young. We were practically children. We went through so much together. We graduated high school together. We went to university together. Got jobs and bought a house and a car together. Damn, we even had two children together.” A rebellious tear rolled down Ainsley’s crease-covered face. She seemed to have aged a decade in just a couple months — there were large black bags underneath her eyes, and her hair went from slightly gray to completely silver. Her brown eyes no longer looked sweet. Instead, they looked tired and empty. “I’m trying to be strong, Angus, I promise you! I know that’s what I should be and what would be best for everybody. But remember when you told me that it was flower Girl and Mud Boy against the world? I know it’s not your fault, but that can’t happen. Ever again.” Ainsley’s rebellious tear transformed into rebellious tears, plural. “I hope you’re happy, wherever you are, Angus. I think you’d be happy to lay here, in our little home town again. See, Angus, there’s the farmhouse where I lived and where you came for apple pie the first day we met! And down there, is the path where I first tripped and landed on top of you and the mud totally ruined my dress,” Ainsley was crying, but a laugh escaped her lips. It was so strange to be angry, sad, depressed, confused, and laughing at the same time. “Oh, Angus, would you look at that? You always teased me for being crazy with all my spontaneous ideas, but maybe I am going crazy now. Without you here, it feels like my heart has been ripped out of my chest but the rest of me is still here. It’s terrifying,” Ainsley laughed once more, the sound high and unnatural. “Oh God, I’m talking to a goddamn piece of stone — I must really be insane.” Ainsley sniffled. Silence. Then she slowly placed down the bouquet she’d been holding. “See, Angus — Irises. Just like your first gift to me.” Shifting closer to the stone, Ainsley tilted her head up. The sun was just slowly rising. Down the hill, was a glowing, endless Iris field. The same Iris field where Angus gave Ainsley the Iris dress all those years ago. The Iris dress, the same one that flowed around Ainsley’s knees now. As the sun slowly illuminated the purple, cloudless sky, the corners of Ainsley’s lips lifted. “You brought me to watch the sunrise when our story just began. It’s only fair that I return the favor as our story ends.” Then, the stone holding Ainsley’s soul to the ground, the one that appeared when she received that gut-wrenching phone call months ago, vanished. “I love you, Mud boy.” They met in 1978. But that’s not the whole story. They were Mud Boy and flower Girl.