“My good lady, are we selling a sand castle bucket for five dollars to a total stranger?” Fitzwilliams called out from the foyer.

“No, dear,” Elizabeth said. “It’s a kit with little shovels too. Make sure you remember the little shovels.”

Befuddled, Fitzwilliams walked into their sun drenched kitchen with crumpled singles. By the patio doors, his beloved was wrestling a potted lemon tree. He hurried to her side and righted the behometh.

“Bing once remarked there is always something new to be observed in people. So love perchance are we sand castle business merchants unawares?”

Fitzwilliams held up the burly tree with shiny leaves and yellow green fruit the size of walnuts. Pink petals in her hair, Elizabeth was taking a close up photo of the tree’s leaves.

“Of course not darling. You remember Jane invited me to the local SWAP and then naturally I joined the Buy & Sell. Remember that giant redheaded Irishman I had in the sun room,” Elizabeth said. “With the comical lean.”

Fitzwilliam remembered no such thing but it nettled him to admit ignorance and he’d been married long enough to know not to admit to not listening to his missus. Nodding knowingly, Fitzwilliams leaned the lopsided tree against the counter. Little lemons bounced on the marble island.

“I swapped that cactus for a dwarf Meyer lemon tree. Our sun room is prone to damp so I’m going tropical. This seemed more genteel on Facebook. Regardless it bears fruit year round.”

Graceful head held high, Elizabeth gathered her first harvest in her hoodie and walked to the not sunny enough sun room. Fitzwilliams with lemon tree followed and wondered if they were now in the fruit business.