“It’s okay,” I reply, smiling at him. “As we age, our bodies go through a lot of wear and tear. I suppose I’ll be in this same position one day.”
He pats my hand tiredly. “I hope not, child. I used to be so strong in my youth. And now, look at me. I can’t even walk around without a cane. I never foresaw this.”
The man seems familiar, but I can’t place him. “Are you a gardener here?”
He glances at me from the corner of his eye, looking genuinely shocked. “What?”
“I saw the shears next to you, so I assumed. You seem familiar, though. Do you work in the east wing? I’m sorry. I’m terrible with faces,” I explain.
He lets out a quick laugh. “Familiar, you say? Yes, I must seem that way. You seem mighty familiar to me, as well.”
I don’t know why he looks so amused, but at least he’s not cou
