Wildflowers
The summer that broke us
Wildflowers always find their way back. They bloom in quiet places, asking for nothing, expecting nothing. Some memories do the same, returning with the wind, carrying the people we thought we had lost.
This story is a work of fiction, inspired by real events.
The road looked smaller than Anna remembered.
She had not driven through the town in years, yet every corner still felt familiar. The old bakery stood where it always had. So did the little café with its faded green shutters.
Beside her, a little girl sat looking out of the window.
“Are we there yet?” she asked.
“Almost,” Anna said.
“Who are we going to see?”
Anna smiled.
“Someone I’ve wanted you to meet for a very long time.”
The little girl nodded and looked back out of the window.
Anna rested her hands on the steering wheel and looked across the open fields stretching into the distance.
Somehow, they always brought her back to that summer.
The summer after graduation felt different from every summer before it. They all knew life was about to change, even if nobody wanted to say it aloud. School had ended forever, and in a few months, each of them would leave town to follow their own dreams. Some of them would study, some would find work, and others hoped to marry. They promised each other that nothing would come between them, yet they could already feel time pulling them in different directions.
Suzie refused to let that thought ruin their final weeks together.
“We need one last adventure,” she said one evening as they sat by the river where they had spent half their childhood. “Something we will still talk about when we are old.”
Lucy let out a laugh. “Old? I can barely imagine being twenty.”
“You will still complain about everything,” Clara said.
“I certainly hope so.”
They all broke into laughter because Lucy always found something to complain about. She complained when it rained because her shoes became muddy. She complained when the sun came out because it was too warm. Somehow she made every complaint sound funny.
Suzie leaned against Anna’s shoulder while the others argued about where they should go. She had a way of making every place feel like home. People smiled when she walked into a room, and strangers often became friends before the day was over. Anna admired that about her. Her own world felt quieter, and she liked watching people more than talking to them.
“What do you think, Anna?” she asked.
“I think we should stay somewhere with a lake.”
“A lake?” Martha asked. “You cannot swim.”
“I never said I wanted to swim.”
Suzie smiled. “She wants to sit by the water with a book while the rest of us make fools of ourselves.”
“That sounds accurate.”
She laughed and squeezed Anna’s hand.
As children, the six girls measured the years by warm evenings at the river, bicycle rides through the village, and endless conversations that continued until someone’s mother called them home.
During the school holidays, they spent every day together until the streetlights came on. On warm nights, after their parents had gone to bed, they sometimes climbed quietly out of their bedroom windows and met in the street. They would walk to the drive-in cinema, spread a blanket on the grass beyond the parked cars, and watch the movies from a distance while sharing a bag of sweets that never lasted long enough. They would laugh at scenes they barely understood and whisper whenever a car drove past.
Those nights became the stories they told over and over again, always convinced there would be countless more to come.
Grace wanted to become a teacher. She loved children and carried sweets in her pockets wherever she went. Martha planned to help on her parents’ farm until she could afford a place of her own. Clara wanted to see every city she had ever read about in her books. Lucy had no plan at all, which suited her perfectly, and Suzie believed life would always find a way to surprise her.
They spent the next week planning their holiday. Every evening someone arrived with another idea. Lucy wanted to visit the coast. Clara preferred the mountains. Suzie declared that every suggestion deserved a fair vote, although she somehow managed to change people’s minds before the voting even began.
“You would make an excellent politician,” Anna said.
Suzie pulled a face, clearly horrified.
“Imagine listening to people complain all day.”
Lucy raised her hand. “I volunteer.”
Suzie burst out laughing so hard that tears filled her eyes.
Anna watched her and wondered how someone could carry so much joy so easily. She made ordinary days feel important. She remembered birthdays, kept every promise, and found a reason to celebrate even the smallest victories. Whenever one of them felt lonely or afraid, Suzie somehow knew before anyone else.
Home was never as easy as it looked from the outside. There were days when silence lasted too long, and words could leave bruises no one else could see. Anna learned to keep things to herself. Smiling was easier than explaining, and disappearing into her own thoughts was often the safest place to be.
Suzie never asked Anna to explain what was wrong. She simply appeared, sat beside her, and somehow made the world feel lighter. With Suzie around, home seemed a little further away.
Sometimes Anna wondered who looked after her.
One warm evening they walked home together after saying goodbye to the others.
“Do you ever think about next year?” Anna asked.
“Every day.”
“Does it scare you?”
She looked up at the stars before answering.
“A little. We will all have different lives.”
“I keep thinking about that too.”
She smiled and slipped her arm through Anna’s.
“Anna, people like us stay friends forever.”
Two weeks later they found themselves in a small cottage beside a lake, surrounded by trees and open fields that seemed to stretch without end. The cottage was far too small for six girls.
Lucy claimed the best bed within thirty seconds.
“I saw it first.”
“You ran inside before we even opened the door,” Grace protested.
“That is called preparation.”
“You pushed me.”
“I guided you.”
Clara dropped her suitcase onto the mattress beside Lucy.
“We’re sharing.”
Lucy stared at her in horror.
“You snore.”
“I breathe confidently.”
“I will never sleep again.”
Lucy and Clara tried to keep a straight face, but quickly lost it and started laughing.
Their days fell into an easy rhythm. They swam in the lake, played cards on the wooden floor, and argued over everything that did not matter. Lucy insisted she had seen something under the water.
“It was a fish,” Clara said.
“It had eyes.”
“Fish usually do.”
“It looked at me.”
“It had feelings.”
Even Martha laughed.
In the evenings they played cards until someone accused someone else of cheating, and Lucy always defended herself with complete seriousness.
“I understand the game better than the rest of you.”
“You hid three cards in your sleeve,” Grace said.
Lucy looked offended. “That is a serious accusation.”
Suzie reached across the table and pulled the cards from her pocket.
For a second, nobody said a word. Then the girls burst into laughter.
Lucy tried to defend herself, but every sentence only made them laugh harder.
“I was keeping them safe,” she insisted.
“In your pocket?” Clara managed to ask between laughs.
“Exactly.”
Within seconds they were all laughing so hard that nobody could breathe properly. Martha doubled over, Grace wiped tears from her eyes, and even Clara could no longer keep a straight face.
Lucy grabbed the nearest cushion and threw it at Suzie.
“Traitor!”
Suzie ducked just in time, and the cushion hit Anna instead.
“Wrong target!” Anna laughed, throwing it straight back.
Within moments the whole cottage had turned into a battlefield of flying cushions, blankets, and uncontrollable laughter.
On the final evening, they sat around a campfire by the lake. The flames flickered softly while crickets sang in the darkness. Nobody wanted the night to end.
Suzie looked around at the faces glowing in the firelight.
“We should make a promise.”
Lucy let out a dramatic sigh. “I knew this evening was becoming emotional.”
“It was always going to,” Suzie said with a smile.
She looked at each of them before speaking again.
“Next year. Same time. Same six girls.”
Grace smiled. “And the year after that?”
“And every year after that.”
Martha poked the fire with a stick. “What if we live in different places?”
“We’ll travel.”
“What if we get married?” Clara asked.
“We’ll still come.”
Lucy folded her arms. “I refuse to spend my holidays listening to husbands.”
Everyone laughed.
Suzie held out her little finger. “Pinky swear?”
One by one, they hooked their little fingers around hers, just as they had done when they were children. They had made hundreds of promises that way, convinced a pinky swear could never be broken.
Anna looked at their joined hands and wished she could keep that moment forever.
Back home, life slowly found its old rhythm again. The holiday became another story to laugh about, and before long everyone returned to their everyday routines. They still met whenever they could, usually outside the little café in the town square where they had gathered for years.
One warm Saturday evening, the square was as lively as ever. Music drifted through the open café doors, glasses clinked together, and familiar faces filled the tables outside. The girls sat with the boys they had grown up with, laughing over stories they had all heard before but somehow never tired of.
Matt, Suzie’s boyfriend, sat beside her, smiling as Lucy dramatically retold a story from their holiday, making herself sound far braver than anyone remembered.
“You screamed because of a frog,” Clara said.
“It jumped at me.”
“It hopped.”
“It had bad intentions.”
Even Matt laughed.
Anna looked around the table and smiled. It felt just like always. The same people. The same jokes. The same warm evening air.
Then the sound of an engine echoed through the square.
Everyone looked up as Tom, one of Matt’s closest friends, slowly rode into the square on a brand-new motorcycle. He parked in front of the café, switched off the engine, and grinned as the boys gathered around to admire it.
“Well?” he said. “Who wants the first ride?”
Suzie’s eyes lit up. “I’ve never been on one.”
Matt turned to her. “And you don’t need to.”
She gave a small, calm smile. “It’ll only take a few minutes.”
“I don’t like the idea.”
Suzie crossed her arms. “You don’t get to decide what I do.”
“I’m not telling you what to do.”
His voice sharpened, just slightly more than he intended.
“That’s exactly what it sounds like.”
Anna stood only a few steps away, watching, unsure whether to step in.
Matt exhaled through his nose, clearly frustrated.
“Fine.”
For a moment, Suzie just looked at him. Then she turned away.
As she walked towards the motorcycle, she glanced back over her shoulder and smiled.
“You’ll get over it.”
The engine came to life, breaking through the noise of the square.
“Just don’t get yourself killed,” Matt called after her.
Suzie climbed onto the back without hesitation, still smiling.
“I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me.”
Tom laughed and gave the engine a sharp roar, and a moment later they were gone, disappearing around the corner.
For a moment everyone watched them go. Then the conversation slowly found its way back.
“They’ll be back in five minutes,” Lucy said. “Suzie will spend four of those talking.”
Matt smiled faintly, although Anna noticed he kept looking down the road where the motorcycle had disappeared.
Someone ordered another round of drinks. Clara began telling a story about a customer at the bookshop where she worked. Soon enough, laughter filled the table again.
Anna laughed too, although every now and then her eyes drifted back to the corner of the street.
“They’re taking their time,” she said after a while.
Lucy shrugged. “Maybe she’s asking if she can drive it.”
“That thought terrifies me,” Grace said.
“So does the thought of Suzie with a driver’s license,” Martha added.
The table broke into laughter again.
Time passed without anyone noticing.
Music spilled from the café, glasses clinked together, and people moved between tables. A couple danced briefly in the middle of the street before being cheered back to their seats.
Anna glanced at the church clock. More than half an hour had passed.
Her smile faded a little. “They should have been back by now.”
Matt looked up. He didn’t respond.
A few seconds later, a siren cut through the distance. At first, no one reacted. Ambulances passed through town often enough.
But the sound grew closer.
Conversations quieted. Laughter faded. One by one, heads turned toward the road.
The siren drew nearer and nearer until, just a few streets away, it stopped abruptly.
The silence that followed felt heavier than the sound itself.
Matt stared toward the sound for only a second before he started running. Without thinking, Anna ran after him.
A week later, the church bells rang across the town.
Anna stood outside for a long time before she found the strength to step inside.
Family and friends filled the church, sitting shoulder to shoulder. Old neighbours and teachers lined the walls, standing because there were no seats left. Outside, classmates gathered quietly beneath the trees, waiting for the service to end.
She had never thought one person could leave behind so many broken hearts.
Lucy’s hand found hers. Anna held on tightly.
None of them cried at first. It still felt impossible that Suzie could be lying only a few meters away. Anna kept waiting for someone to say it had all been a mistake. That Suzie would burst through the church doors, laughing at how seriously everyone had taken it.
But the doors stayed closed. And they stayed closed until the service was over.
After that, everything changed.
The girls still loved each other. They just no longer knew how to be together. Every place carried Suzie’s absence, and every joke died in silence because she would have been the one laughing the hardest.
At first, they called often. They met whenever they could, holding on to the hope that things might feel the same again. They never did. Every conversation circled back to Suzie, and every goodbye came a little more easily than the last.
Grace left to study. Clara found work in the city. Martha stayed on the farm. Anna moved away not long after the funeral.
The phone calls became rarer. There was always a reason. Someone had to work. Someone was too tired. Someone promised, “Next time.”
Until one day, there simply wasn’t.
Anna parked beneath the trees and turned off the engine.
For a moment, she just sat there. Then she stepped out.
The air felt different here. Quieter.
She walked around the car and opened the door for her daughter.
“Come on,” she said gently.
Hand in hand, they followed the gravel path between the trees. The little girl looked around curiously, unaware of why her mother had grown so quiet.
Anna stopped in front of the gravestone and slowly knelt down. She traced the carved letters with her fingertips, and before she could stop them, tears rolled down her cheeks.
The little girl looked up at her.
“Who is she, Mommy?”
Anna swallowed hard.
“My best friend.”
She smiled through her tears and gently brushed a few leaves from the stone.
“I named you after her.”
The little girl looked at the name again, then slipped her small hand into Anna’s.
Anna closed her eyes.
The wind stirred the wildflowers growing around the grave. Somewhere, it sounded almost like laughter.
In memory of
Susan Magdaleen Venter
7 July 1966 - 12 February 1983
I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes. Thank you for writing this story as a tribute to my best friend ❤️
Shivers... This is tenderly beautiful