Is the Orchid Really to Blame? “Polly, take this orchid or I’m throwing it out,” Katie said, grabbing the transparent pot from the windowsill and handing it to me. “Thanks, love! But what’s wrong with this orchid?” I wondered aloud. There were already three lush, thriving orchids on the sill. “That flower was a wedding gift for my son. And, well, you know how that ended…” Katie sighed heavily. “Yes, Den divorced before the year was out. I won’t ask why—it must’ve been serious. He adored Tanya,” I said, not wanting to reopen old wounds. “I’ll tell you everything one day, Polly. It still hurts to talk about,” Katie murmured, wiping her eyes. I brought the “exiled” and “rejected” orchid home. My husband glanced at the “pathetic” flower and said, “Why do you want that runt? There’s no life left in it. Even I can see that. Don’t waste your time.” “I want to revive it. I’ll give it care and love. You’ll see, you’ll fall for this orchid yet,” I told him, wanting to bring life back to the drooping, dying plant. He winked at me, teasing, “Who wouldn’t thrive on a little love?” A week later, Katie called: “Polly, can I come round? I can’t keep carrying this secret. I need to tell you everything about Den’s failed marriage.” “Of course, Katy, come over—I’m waiting for you,” I replied. I could never say no to her: she’d been my rock through both my divorces and through all these years of friendship. An hour later, Katie arrived, settled in the kitchen, and over a glass of wine, a cup of coffee, and some dark chocolate, the long soul-baring began… “I never guessed my former daughter-in-law was capable of this. Den and Tanya were together seven years. He left Anne for Tanya—even though I adored Anne, such a warm, homey soul. I called her my daughter. But then in swept Tanya, all glamour and beauty, and Den was besotted, fluttering round her like a bee round a flower—his love for her fierce and all-consuming. Anne was out the door in a blink. Sure, Tanya looked like a model. Den loved the way his mates sighed after her, even strangers turned their heads. Seven years together and not a single child. I thought Den just wanted to do things properly—marriage, then start a family. We never pushed into his business. One day, out of the blue, Den announced: ‘Dad, Mum, I’m marrying Tanya. We’ve booked the registry. I’m throwing the biggest wedding—won’t spare a penny.’ We were delighted. At last, our son would have a real family—he was already thirty. Twice the wedding had to be postponed—he was ill once, then I was delayed on work. It didn’t sit right, but I said nothing; Den was glowing. Why ruin his joy? He wanted to have the church blessing too, but the priest he wanted was away. Nothing fell into place—bad signs everywhere… Anyway, we finally threw a huge wedding. Look at the photo—see that lovely orchid? Blooms stiff and proud. Now look at it—its leaves are in tatters. Den and Tanya were heading to Paris for the honeymoon, but disaster struck at the airport—Tanya wasn’t allowed to leave the country over a massive fine. Den ignored the adversity, dreaming of a happy family. Then, suddenly, he fell very ill and landed in hospital. The prognosis was dire. Tanya visited for a week before saying, ‘Sorry, Den, I can’t deal with a disabled husband. I’ve filed for divorce.’ Can you imagine, Polly, how he felt, helpless in that hospital bed? But all he said was, ‘I understand, Tanya. I won’t fight the divorce.’ So, they divorced. But our boy recovered—thanks to a doctor, Peter Brown, who told us, ‘He’s young, he’ll pull through.’ We became quite friendly with Peter and his family—he’s got a sweet daughter, Mary, just twenty. At first, Den wouldn’t look at her, ‘She’s a shorty—not even pretty.’ ‘Son, give Mary a chance. Looks aren’t everything. You had your beauty queen already… better happy with water than miserable with honey.’ Den couldn’t get over Tanya, but Mary was smitten—always calling, following him everywhere. We decided to throw them together—took them all on a picnic. Den was miserable, nothing cheered him: not the crackling fire, not the barbecue, not our laughter. Mary tried to catch his eye, but he never looked her way. I said to my husband, ‘This was pointless—Den still loves Tanya. She’s a thorn in his heart.’ Months passed. Then, one day, Den came by with that orchid: ‘Here, Mum—a remnant of past happiness. Do what you like with it. I don’t want this exotic reminder.’ I reluctantly took the orchid and ignored it, somehow blaming it for Den’s heartaches. Not long after, a neighbour said, ‘Katie, I saw your Den with a tiny girl. Not as statuesque as his ex.’ I couldn’t believe he might actually be courting Mary. Then one day Den came over: ‘Meet my wife, Mary.’ He held her hand so gently. My husband and I were stunned, ‘What, no wedding? No guests?’ ‘No need for fuss. We’ve done that already. Quiet registry, and the church blessing too—now we’re together forever.’ I took Den aside: ‘Den, do you really love her? You’re not just marrying out of spite?’ ‘No, Mum, I’m not. I’m over… her.’ He couldn’t even say Tanya’s name. ‘And love—it’s different now, Mum. Mary’s world just fits mine, perfectly.’ That’s the story, Polly. Katie poured her heart out. After that, we didn’t see much of each other—life got in the way. But the orchid revived and flourished. Flowers really show their gratitude. I finally ran into Katie at the hospital: ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’ ‘Mary’s had twins! She’s coming home today.’ Katie’s smile was dazzling. Nearby, Den and Katie’s husband waited with red roses. Mary appeared: tired, but radiant, followed by a nurse with two tiny sleeping bundles. Just then, my daughter arrived too, with my new granddaughter. Now Tanya begs Den to forgive her and start again. But you can glue a broken cup, Polly… doesn’t mean you’ll ever want to drink from it again.

IS THE ORCHID REALLY TO BLAME?

Sarah, take this orchid away, or Im just going to chuck it, Kate says dismissively, plucking the see-through plant pot from the windowsill and handing it over to me.

Oh, thanks, love! But whats the poor orchid done to bother you? I ask in confusion. After all, three other magnificent, well-tended orchids still sit on the sill, looking splendid.

That flower was a wedding present for my son. And you know how that all ended… Kate sighs heavily.

I know your son, Daniel, got divorced within a year. I wont pry about the reasonI suppose it was serious, since Daniel absolutely adored Anna, I say, not wanting to reopen my friends barely healed wounds.

Ill tell you sometime, Sarah. Its just hard to talk about now, Kate says, pensive, tears brimming in her eyes.

So, the banished and rejected orchid comes home with me. My husband gives the poor, wilted thing a sympathetic look.

Whats the point in taking in that spindly thing? Theres no life left in iteven I can see that. Dont waste your time, he says.

Id like to see if I can revive this orchid. Ill give it care and affection. Youll soon seeitll bloom beautifully again, I answer, determined to breathe life into the limp, dying plant.

He grins and gives me a wink. Well, who wouldnt want a bit of love?

A week later, Kate rings.

Sarah, is it alright if I pop round? I can’t keep this to myself. I need to tell you everything about Daniels disastrous marriage.

Of course, Kate, come whenever you like. Ill put the kettle on, I say without hesitation. Kate has always stood by methrough my messy first divorce, and when things went awry with the second husband Our friendship goes back many years.

Kate arrives within the hour.

She settles herself at the kitchen table, and over a glass of dry white, a steaming mug of fresh coffee, and a bar of dark chocolate, a long tale of life unspools.

I never imagined my now ex-daughter-in-law was capable of what she did. Daniel and Anna were together for seven years. Daniel took his time, weighing her up. He even left Ellie for Anna. I was fond of little Ellieshe was so lovely and homely. I used to call her my daughter. And suddenly, along came stunning Anna. Daniel completely lost his head, running circles round her, fluttering above her like a bee round a flower. The love he felt for her was fierce, and Ellie was left in the shadows.

Yes, Anna had the looks of a model. Daniel enjoyed the attention when his pals gave him envious glances, or strangers turned to look at this ethereal beauty. Still, I found it odd that after seven years together, Daniel and Anna never had a child. I thought, well, perhaps my son just wants to do things properly. Marry first, then children. He never liked to confide, and we never poked our noses into his private life.

But then he told us flat-outDad, Mum, Im marrying Anna. Weve put our names down at the registry office. Itll be the wedding of the year. No expense spared.

We were thrilled. At last, our boy would have a proper family. He was thirty, after all. Imagine, Sarah, we had to postpone the wedding twiceDaniel fell ill, then I got held up with a work trip. It felt like bad luck was hovering over the whole affair, but I kept my worries to myself. Daniel was radiating happinesswhy dampen his spirits? He even wanted a church blessing, but that didnt come off either. Father Christopher went up north for several months, and Daniel insisted it had to be him. Everything seemed to go awry… Signs from every corner.

In the end, we threw a grand bash of a wedding. Look at this photosee how stunning the orchid looks there? Brimming with blooms, its leaves standing proudly. Now, though? Just limp rags remain of those leaves.

Daniel and Anna tried to fly off on their honeymoon to Paris, but there was another snafu. Anna wasnt allowed out of the countryapparently, she had an enormous unpaid fine. They were turned away at the airport. Daniel seemed unfazed by all these problems, lost in dreams of a happy family.

Out of nowhere, Daniel fell seriously ill. Hospitalised. It was awful. The consultants shrugged hopelessly.

Anna visited for a week, then came out with it: Im sorry, but I cant live with a disabled husband. Im filing for divorce.

Can you imagine, Sarah, how my Daniel felt, stuck in that hospital bed? But he just said, I understand, Anna. I wont stand in your way.

And that was that. They divorced. But our Daniel recovered. We found a top consultant for him who got him back on his feet in six monthssaid the young body would pull through. We became good friends with Dr. Peter Collins, his saviour. He has a sweet-natured twenty-year-old daughter, Emily. At first, Daniel turned his nose up at her.

Bit of a shortie, and not much to look at, he said.

Listen, son, looks arent everything. Your ex may have had model looks, but Id rather see you content with a nice girl than miserable with a beauty.

Daniel still couldnt shake Anna and the pain of her betrayal. Emily, meanwhile, adored him. She rang him endlessly, followed him around everywhere.

We tried to bring them closer, took them out for a picnic in Surrey. Daniel stayed glum, completely down. Not even the crackle of the fire, the scent of barbecue, or our cheerful lot improved his mood. Emily hung onto his every word, but he didnt once glance at her.

I said to my husband, This matchmaking was pointless. Daniel still loves Anna. Shes a thorn in his heart.

Three or four months passed. Unexpectedly, the doorbell goes. Theres Daniel, holding that same infamous orchid.

Here you are, Mumremnants of my former happiness. Do what you want with it. I dont want this exotic plant.

I took it, but never warmed to it. As though the flower itself were to blame for my sons misfortunes. I shoved it out of sight and neglected it.

Then, one day, my neighbour stops me: Kate, I saw your Daniel with a girl like Thumbelina. Not as striking as his ex-wife, I must say.

I couldnt believe itcould Daniel really be dating Emily?

Allow me to presentEmily and I are husband and wife now, Daniel said, tenderly holding his petite young wifes hand.

My husband and I exchanged a look.

What about a wedding? Guests? we asked.

No need for all that fuss. Weve done it already. Quietly at the registry office. Father Christopher gave us his blessing. Emily and I will be together always now.

I took Daniel aside. Do you even love this girl? Please tell me you wont hurt her, that you havent married her out of spite to Anna.

No, Mum, theres no revenge. Thats all behind me now, Daniel repliedhe couldnt even bring himself to say Annas name. As for love… Well, Emilys world and mine fit together perfectly.

Thats how it happened, Sarah.

Kate pours her heart out right to the very end.

After this soul-baring chat, Kate and I dont see each other for almost two years. Our everyday lives sweep us along.

Meanwhile, the orchid has come back to life, bursting into bloom. Plants really do repay kindness.

Then I run into Kate at the maternity ward.

Hello, old friend. What brings you here? I ask.

Emilys just had twins. Theyre being discharged today. Kate beams with joy.

A short distance away, Daniel stands waiting, alongside Kates husband, clutching a bouquet of red roses. On the threshold appears a tired but radiant Emily, followed by a nurse carefully cradling two tiny, sleeping bundles.

My own daughter appears right behind, carrying her newborn girl.

And now Anna pleads for Daniels forgiveness, asking for a second chance.

You can glue a broken cup back together, but itll never be the same to drink from.

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Is the Orchid Really to Blame? “Polly, take this orchid or I’m throwing it out,” Katie said, grabbing the transparent pot from the windowsill and handing it to me. “Thanks, love! But what’s wrong with this orchid?” I wondered aloud. There were already three lush, thriving orchids on the sill. “That flower was a wedding gift for my son. And, well, you know how that ended…” Katie sighed heavily. “Yes, Den divorced before the year was out. I won’t ask why—it must’ve been serious. He adored Tanya,” I said, not wanting to reopen old wounds. “I’ll tell you everything one day, Polly. It still hurts to talk about,” Katie murmured, wiping her eyes. I brought the “exiled” and “rejected” orchid home. My husband glanced at the “pathetic” flower and said, “Why do you want that runt? There’s no life left in it. Even I can see that. Don’t waste your time.” “I want to revive it. I’ll give it care and love. You’ll see, you’ll fall for this orchid yet,” I told him, wanting to bring life back to the drooping, dying plant. He winked at me, teasing, “Who wouldn’t thrive on a little love?” A week later, Katie called: “Polly, can I come round? I can’t keep carrying this secret. I need to tell you everything about Den’s failed marriage.” “Of course, Katy, come over—I’m waiting for you,” I replied. I could never say no to her: she’d been my rock through both my divorces and through all these years of friendship. An hour later, Katie arrived, settled in the kitchen, and over a glass of wine, a cup of coffee, and some dark chocolate, the long soul-baring began… “I never guessed my former daughter-in-law was capable of this. Den and Tanya were together seven years. He left Anne for Tanya—even though I adored Anne, such a warm, homey soul. I called her my daughter. But then in swept Tanya, all glamour and beauty, and Den was besotted, fluttering round her like a bee round a flower—his love for her fierce and all-consuming. Anne was out the door in a blink. Sure, Tanya looked like a model. Den loved the way his mates sighed after her, even strangers turned their heads. Seven years together and not a single child. I thought Den just wanted to do things properly—marriage, then start a family. We never pushed into his business. One day, out of the blue, Den announced: ‘Dad, Mum, I’m marrying Tanya. We’ve booked the registry. I’m throwing the biggest wedding—won’t spare a penny.’ We were delighted. At last, our son would have a real family—he was already thirty. Twice the wedding had to be postponed—he was ill once, then I was delayed on work. It didn’t sit right, but I said nothing; Den was glowing. Why ruin his joy? He wanted to have the church blessing too, but the priest he wanted was away. Nothing fell into place—bad signs everywhere… Anyway, we finally threw a huge wedding. Look at the photo—see that lovely orchid? Blooms stiff and proud. Now look at it—its leaves are in tatters. Den and Tanya were heading to Paris for the honeymoon, but disaster struck at the airport—Tanya wasn’t allowed to leave the country over a massive fine. Den ignored the adversity, dreaming of a happy family. Then, suddenly, he fell very ill and landed in hospital. The prognosis was dire. Tanya visited for a week before saying, ‘Sorry, Den, I can’t deal with a disabled husband. I’ve filed for divorce.’ Can you imagine, Polly, how he felt, helpless in that hospital bed? But all he said was, ‘I understand, Tanya. I won’t fight the divorce.’ So, they divorced. But our boy recovered—thanks to a doctor, Peter Brown, who told us, ‘He’s young, he’ll pull through.’ We became quite friendly with Peter and his family—he’s got a sweet daughter, Mary, just twenty. At first, Den wouldn’t look at her, ‘She’s a shorty—not even pretty.’ ‘Son, give Mary a chance. Looks aren’t everything. You had your beauty queen already… better happy with water than miserable with honey.’ Den couldn’t get over Tanya, but Mary was smitten—always calling, following him everywhere. We decided to throw them together—took them all on a picnic. Den was miserable, nothing cheered him: not the crackling fire, not the barbecue, not our laughter. Mary tried to catch his eye, but he never looked her way. I said to my husband, ‘This was pointless—Den still loves Tanya. She’s a thorn in his heart.’ Months passed. Then, one day, Den came by with that orchid: ‘Here, Mum—a remnant of past happiness. Do what you like with it. I don’t want this exotic reminder.’ I reluctantly took the orchid and ignored it, somehow blaming it for Den’s heartaches. Not long after, a neighbour said, ‘Katie, I saw your Den with a tiny girl. Not as statuesque as his ex.’ I couldn’t believe he might actually be courting Mary. Then one day Den came over: ‘Meet my wife, Mary.’ He held her hand so gently. My husband and I were stunned, ‘What, no wedding? No guests?’ ‘No need for fuss. We’ve done that already. Quiet registry, and the church blessing too—now we’re together forever.’ I took Den aside: ‘Den, do you really love her? You’re not just marrying out of spite?’ ‘No, Mum, I’m not. I’m over… her.’ He couldn’t even say Tanya’s name. ‘And love—it’s different now, Mum. Mary’s world just fits mine, perfectly.’ That’s the story, Polly. Katie poured her heart out. After that, we didn’t see much of each other—life got in the way. But the orchid revived and flourished. Flowers really show their gratitude. I finally ran into Katie at the hospital: ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’ ‘Mary’s had twins! She’s coming home today.’ Katie’s smile was dazzling. Nearby, Den and Katie’s husband waited with red roses. Mary appeared: tired, but radiant, followed by a nurse with two tiny sleeping bundles. Just then, my daughter arrived too, with my new granddaughter. Now Tanya begs Den to forgive her and start again. But you can glue a broken cup, Polly… doesn’t mean you’ll ever want to drink from it again.
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