Is the Orchid to Blame? “Polly, please take this orchid or I’ll just throw it out,” Kate said, handing me the transparent pot with its wilting bloom from her windowsill. “Oh, thanks, love! But what’s wrong with this orchid? It seems fine to me,” I wondered, glancing at her other three thriving orchids. “That flower was a wedding gift for my son,” Kate sighed heavily. “And you know what happened in the end…” “I do: your Dan got divorced after less than a year. I won’t ask why, I can guess it was serious. After all, Dan adored Tanya,” I tried not to stir old wounds for my friend. “One day, I’ll tell you the real reason, Polly, but not now—it still hurts to talk about.” Kate’s voice wavered, and her eyes filled with tears. I brought the “rejected” orchid home. My husband looked at the sad plant with pity. “Why bother with that poor thing? Even I can tell there’s no life left in it.” “I want to bring it back to life,” I replied. “I’ll give it a bit of love and care. I promise, you’ll end up admiring this orchid.” He just winked and teased, “Who could refuse a bit of love?” A week later, Kate called. “Polly, can I come over? I can’t keep this all bottled up—I need to talk about Dan’s failed marriage.” “Of course, Kate, come any time,” I replied. Kate had always supported me—through my first painful divorce, and the second marriage that also fell apart. We’d been friends for ages. Within an hour, she arrived. We settled in the kitchen with a glass of wine, a fresh coffee, and some dark chocolate, and she began her long story. “I never imagined my former daughter-in-law could be so heartless. Dan and Tanya were together for seven years before they married. Dan left Annie for her, and I really liked Annie; she was so homely and sweet, I used to call her my daughter. “But Tanya—gorgeous, like a model—completely bewitched Dan. He doted on her, followed her everywhere, hovered like a bee around honey. Their love seemed so intense. There were no children in all those years together—I suppose Dan wanted to do things properly, get married, then start a family. He never talked much about personal matters, and we never pried. “One day, Dan simply announced: ‘Mum, Dad, I’m marrying Tanya. We’ve booked the registry office. No expense spared.’ We were over the moon—he was thirty, time to settle down. “But the wedding date had to be moved twice: Dan was poorly, then I got back late from a work trip. I had a bad feeling about it, but Dan was so happy, I kept quiet. He even wanted to have a church blessing, but the vicar was away for months. Nothing seemed to go smoothly—there were warning signs everywhere. “Anyway, we finally had the wedding—big party and all. Look at this photo, Polly: see how lush that orchid was? Standing tall, full of bloom. Now it’s just ragged leaves. “Dan and Tanya planned a honeymoon in Paris, but right at the airport, Tanya was stopped over some massive unpaid fine. Dan just brushed off all the bad luck; he was head in the clouds, dreaming of family life. “Then Dan fell seriously ill—hospitalised, very grim. Doctors were stumped. “Tanya visited for a week, then told him, ‘Sorry, but I can’t be married to an invalid. I’ve filed for divorce.’ “Can you imagine, Polly, what my Dan felt, powerless in his hospital bed? Still, all he said was, ‘I understand, Tanya. I won’t make this difficult.’ “They split. But Dan pulled through—we found a brilliant doctor who got him back on his feet in six months. The doctor had a lovely young daughter, Maddy. At first, Dan was utterly uninterested—‘Too short, not even that pretty.’ “‘Give her a chance, son. Looks aren’t everything. Your ex-wife was beautiful, but happiness matters more than appearances.’ “Dan couldn’t forget Tanya, but Maddy fell for him completely, always calling, never giving up. We tried to bring them together—took them on an outing. Dan was silent, miserable, immune to even Maddy’s hopeful glances. “I told my husband, ‘A mistake, this matchmaking. Dan still loves Tanya. She’s a thorn he can’t shake.’ “Three or four months later, Dan showed up at home with the notorious orchid. ‘Here, Mum, leftovers from past happiness. Do what you like with it—I don’t need it anymore.’ “I took the orchid without enthusiasm, almost resenting it, as if it were to blame for his misfortune. Shoehorned it at the back, never watered it. “Then a neighbour said, ‘Kate, I saw your Dan with that little Thumbelina girl. His ex was far more glamorous, though.’ “I couldn’t believe it—Dan and Maddy really an item? “Soon after, Dan arrived, holding Maddy’s hand and said, ‘Meet my wife.’ “‘But what about the wedding, the party?’ “‘No need for a fuss. Been there, done that. We had a quiet registry office wedding, then the vicar blessed us. Maddy and I belong together now.’ “I asked, ‘Do you love her, son? Or is this revenge on Tanya?’ “‘No, Mum, I’m not out to get Tanya. I’ve moved on. Maddy and I just fit—simple as that.’ “That’s the story, Polly,” Kate finished, pouring out her heart. Years passed. Life swept us along, so we didn’t see much of one another. But the orchid I rescued has come alive, flowering as never before. Plants know how to say thank you for care. Then, one day, I saw Kate at the hospital. “Hi, Polly! What brings you here?” “Maddy’s just had twins—they’re being discharged today,” Kate beamed. Over by the entrance, Dan and Kate’s husband waited with red roses. Maddy appeared, pale but happy, with a nurse cradling the sleeping bundles. And there, following, my own daughter with my newborn granddaughter. Tanya wanted Dan back, called, begged forgiveness, pleaded for a second chance. …You can glue a broken cup together, but it will never hold tea the same way again…

IS THE ORCHID REALLY TO BLAME?

Polly, please take this orchid, or Ill just chuck it out, Katie said carelessly, grabbing the see-through plant pot from the windowsill and handing it over to me.

Oh, thanks, love! But whats this poor orchid done to deserve banishment? I asked, baffled. After all, her windowsill was positively bursting with three other luxurious and well-manicured orchids.

That one was given to my son at his wedding. And you know how that all ended Katie sighed heavily.

I know your Daniel split updivorced before the wedding cake had even gone stale. I wont ask why; Im guessing it was rather dramatic. Daniel absolutely worshipped Tessa, I replied quietly. No sense poking the sore spot.

Ill tell you the full story one day, Polly. Its just too fresh right now, Katie sniffed, dabbing her eyes.

So, home I went with the exiled and unwanted orchid. My husband cast a pitiful look at the sorry plant.

Why bring home that poor excuse for an orchid? It looks absolutely lifelesseven I can tell. Dont waste your time.

Im determined to revive itgive it a bit of love and care. Trust me, youll be bragging about this orchid soon enough, I declared, determined to breathe life back into its floppy, fainting leaves.

Whod ever turn down a bit of love? my husband joked, giving me a sly wink.

A week later, Katie called.

Polly, can I come round? I just cant keep this bottled upneed to tell you the whole sorry tale of Daniels doomed marriage.

Katie, pop over, no question. Youve always been there for methrough my first messy divorce, arguing with husband number two, all sorts. We go back years, you and me.

An hour later, Katie was on my doorstep, parking herself comfortably in my kitchen. Over a glass of dry white, a mug of strong coffee, and far too much dark chocolate, she launched into her epic.

Id never in my wildest dreams have thought my, now ex-, daughter-in-law capable of such a thing. Daniel and Tessa lived together for seven years. He took his sweet time before proposing. Dropped Annie for Tessa, too. And Annie was lovelyproper homely, like a second daughter to me. Then along came dazzling Tessa, and Daniel lost his head. He was utterly besottedfluttering around her like a bee around a blossom. Annie got pushed aside in a heartbeat.

No denying Tessa is drop-dead gorgeous. Daniel loved it when the boys eyed her up and strangers did double-takes. Odd thingDaniel and Tessa never had children, even after seven years. I figured he was just doing things by the bookmarriage first, then babies. He never liked a fuss, and weve never poked into his personal affairs.

One day Daniel just sits us down: Mum, Dad, Im marrying Tessa. Weve given notice at the registry office. Going to throw a massive dono expense spared.

Well, we were delighted at lastour dear boy settling down at thirty!

But, Polly, you wouldnt believe it: the wedding date had to be moved twiceDaniel had a nasty flu, then I got delayed at work. It started to feel a bit ill-starred. But Daniel was so blissfully happy I didnt dare rain on his parade. Then, he even wanted to get married in church, but Father Samuel was away up North for months, and Daniel was oddly insistent on doing it only with him. Honestly, Polly, nothing went smoothly. Fate was dropping hints left, right and centre…

We finally had the big weddinglook, heres the photo. You can see the orchid, in full bloom. The leaves were soldier-straight. Look at it now! Just limp rags left.

Anyway, Daniel and Tessa planned a honeymoon in Paris, butget thisTessa wasnt allowed to leave the country because she owed some whopping fine. Stopped at Heathrow, of all places! Daniel just ignored every disasterhead in the clouds, dreaming of happily ever after.

Then disaster struckDaniel fell gravely ill. In hospital, situation dire. The doctors all but shrugged. Tessa visited for about a week and then declared: Sorry, but I cant be married to an invalid. Ive filed for divorce.

Imagine how Daniel felt, Polly, lying there helpless? But he just said, I understand, Tessa. I wont stand in your way.

And that, as they say, was that. Divorce granted.

But, Polly, my boy recoveredthanks to a brilliant doctor, Peter Bennett, who got Daniel back on his feet in six months flat. Peters got a sweet twenty-year-old daughter, Maisie. At first, Daniel just turned up his nose

Shes a bit of a shorty. Not even that pretty.

Daniel, give Maisie a chance. Looks arent everything. Youve already married a modelbetter to be happy with a glass of lemonade than miserable with a bottle of champagne.

He couldnt get over Tessa, but the way she betrayed him left a mark. Maisie, bless her, fell head over heels for Danielcalling, running round after him.

We tried to nudge them togetherwent for a picnic. Daniel just moped, totally unbothered by the bonfire, the sausages, our cheerful crowd. Maisie was hanging on his every word. Frankly, he never even looked at her.

I whispered to my husband, This matchmakings pointless. Daniels hearts still stuck on Tessa.

Then after three or four months, knock at the doorits Daniel, clutching that blasted orchid:

There you go, Mum, leftovers of past happiness. Do as you like with itI dont want the thing.

I took it, grudgingly, and stashed it out of sight. I couldnt help blaming the flower for all my sons misfortune. Didnt water it, practically forgot about it.

Not long after, the neighbour told me, Saw your Daniel, Kat, with a petite little thing. The ex-wife was a proper stunner by comparison.

I didnt believe it. Daniel with Maisie? Really?

Then along comes Daniel, hand-in-hand with Maisie: May I present Mrs. Maisie Smith. Were husband and wife.

My husband and I exchanged looks, What, no big wedding? No fuss?

Dont need all thatwe eloped quietly, Father Samuel did the honours. We belong together now.

I took him aside, Daniel, do you love her? Youre not just marrying Maisie to spite Tessa?

No, Mum. Thats behind meIm simply happy. Maisies world and mine, they fit just right.

So thats our little family saga, Polly, Katie said, finally spent.

After that heart-to-heart, we didnt see each other for nearly two yearslife just swept us up.

But the orchid resurrected, blooming for England. Amazing what a bit of TLC can do. When I bumped into Katie at the maternity hospital

Hiya, love. What brings you here?

Maisies had twinsgoing home today! Katie beamed.

A little way off, Daniel and Katies husband were waiting, Daniel proudly holding a bouquet of red roses.

And out came a tired but radiant Maisie, with a nurse behind her carefully cradling two precious sleeping bundles.

Behind them, my own daughter appeared, cuddling my newborn granddaughter.

Somewhere off in the distance, Tessa was pleading for Daniels forgiveness, begging for a do-over.

Well, you can glue a teacup back together, but youll never drink comfortably from it againI watched the scene, heart swellinga flash of resilience in every tired face, a reminder that life, like the orchid, found a way to flourish after seasons of shadow. Katie caught my eye and grinned, happy tears in her gaze. There was Daniel, no trace of old heartbreak, cuddling his son and daughter while Maisie lit up beside him.

As the hospital doors swooshed shut behind us all, I caught a whiff of lilies, new baby skin, and something fresh like hope. That night, tucking the newly blooming orchid onto my own sunny windowsill, I finally saw what was plain all along: sometimes, the things we blame for our troubles are simply bearing witness, quietly enduring until joy finds its way back.

I ran my fingers over the petals, soft and firm, lively as laughter. New beginnings, I thought, needed nothing more than a little patienceand maybe just one stubborn, surviving flower to remind us that love, once rooted, always finds a way to blossom again.