he’d been growing them for years; he, as in his grandfather, them, as in the peaches. it started ever since his granddaughter passed and began a symbol of arms in the laurence mansion. the sun peers above its vanishing point, painted with only the most superior acrylics fit to provide life to all of its subjects: those on earth.
laurie must squint his eyes and cover his face to see straight, for the rays of exposure seem to give him a headache. this simple difficulty wont stop the boy from diverging away from the task at hand: admiring amy march, the formal sister enthralled with painting and the finer things in life.
he hadn’t experienced the pang of true love when they’d first met, though, since amy was so young. as she grew and matured into a wonderful young lady, this is when laurie began to notice his heart beating a little too fast when jo mentioned her name in conversation.
“amy did this, amy did that! oh, she’s so spoiled,” jo would complain.
laurie would just sit there and shrug, maybe he wanted to be the one who spoiled her, being an heir and all.
this would be about the time the peaches started to grow; the flowers on the other side of the fence blooming so elegantly reminding him of amy in every possible way. now, laurie peered over the white picket fence and gasped a bit when he didn’t see amy as normally expected. maybe jo told amy of laurie’s bizarre watchings and she retreated into the house, maybe she caught scarlet fever again...
that’s when she opened the back door and smiled down at herself. carrying a canvas in her left, paintbrushes in her right her pale face flushed in the sunlight. wearing a yellow prairie dress that reached her ankles, amy arranged a seat for herself in the grass and got to work. stroking her brush against the canvas with such precision, amy began her outlining. that’s when the peaches fell, and rustled in their tree. clashing with the dirt and making a loud thump laurie cursed himself and the now bruised peaches.
“hello?” amy called in the general direction of the fence. her crimped blonde hair clung to her bosom as she questioned the thin air.
‘o great muse calliope, how dazzling you look,’ laurie thought to himself as he saw the girl in all of her artistic, educated glory.
“laurie laurence, is that you? come out now, don’t be shy. jo’s in the house if you want to talk to her,” amy explained.
there was no use in lying anymore, lord laurence.
“no... actually, i was just looking at you, and uh, the peaches behind the fence,” laurie said, brushing his hands on his waistcoat. for just a moment, amy looked startled. startled by the fact that she got the spotlight instead of her sister whom she was always behind by one point.
“would you like a peach, miss amy march?” the boy said with such a gracious air, just as amy spoke.
“yes, laurie. i’d be delighted to have one.”
“then come join me on this side of the fence,” laurie proposed to his old playmate; his family friend.
“i can’t climb such a high fence in a dress like this! i’m afraid it will tear!” exclaimed the youngest sister, in her long lost childish tone.
“let me help you,” that’s when laurie hopped over the fence in one swift motion and landed right on his feet. okay, maybe that was a bit too embellished. he landed on his chest, right on the ground. he laughed to himself in an awkward manner as amy looked on with concern, helping him up and dusting off every speck of dirt on the boy’s victorian shirt.
laurie then let out a soft whisper, telling amy not to squirm as he picked her up, for he was afraid he’d lose his footing if she did and would fall as he just did. laurie picked up amy by the waist, holding her in a tender manner. he took his hand and caressed the back of her hair, eliciting a smile from the girl.
“your hair is splendid. it sparkles in the sunlight,” laurie observed.
“thank you, laurie, i’m sure your hair sparkles too.” amy said before turning her head and ruffling the opposite boy’s hair as she soared in his arms, up over the fence. he plopped her right on her feet, and amy successfully got over the fence! a big achievement for her indeed. laurie rewarded the girl by holding out her prize: a ripe, pinkish peach.
“there you go, dear.”
“why don’t we share it?” amy asked, with a giggle.
“how so? how can we share a peach?” laurie was puzzled, thinking amy’d run back inside and grab a knife to cut up the fruit.
instead, amy smeared a bit of the saccharine juice on her bow lips and pressed them against laurie’s. they were so close now, her eyelashes fluttering with every second that passed.