Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians, and the characters of Katie Gardener and Demeter belong to Rick Riordan. And I am not Rick Riordan.

A/N: This story is for everyone with a shattered dream, a broken heart. I pray that one day, you'll find your family.

The Orchid's Blessing

Chapter One

Do any of you have those names that make everyone pick on you? Dad never seemed to find anything wrong with my last name, nor did he understand why I absolutely hated it. Gardener. I mean, jeez. Ellen O'Ryan once spilled her entire bottle of green paint over my hand. Green-Thumb Gardener. Part of me always protested when I complained about that nickname; it could have been about million times worst.

So, anyway, my second grade teacher suggested that I take up gardening. She gave me my first potted seedling too. It was one of those hanging flowers, a lot of yellow cosmoses. Even today, cosmoses are my favorite flower. I don't know, gardening gave me a release from all the pressures of life, the universe and everything.

I wasn't really normal, but I wasn't that strange.

My dad was an only parent, and he worked for the NYPD as a rather high ranking officer. He usually refused to talk about his job, joking that it traumatized him enough during work hours without discussing it at home. I think that I've learned what he meant, about his job and everything. I mean, I've fought a war, that must be at least as bad as being a policeman in New York City. Maybe. Dad struggled with his job and keeping me in normal school as well. The teachers wanted to slow me down, put me in special education classes, but he always refused. He insisted I could do better.

Ritalin hardly helped. Each day, I hated swallowing the nasty little pill that the school nurses forced me to take. It seemed wrong. I mean, I was born with ADHD, why should I medicate what was given to me? Dad always says we're given gifts and talents and we should use them. I always said that ADHD could be my special talent. School nurses don't really care though. They simply didn't care. I always hated school, even when I had a good teacher. Which only happened once.

My second grade teacher, Ms. Yager, was amazing. She was always patient and kind, and I told you she gave me my first cosmoses. Ms. Yager also told me about orchids, which I longed for years to be old enough to grow. Dad had told me he'd buy me an orchid when I was twelve. Anyway, Ms. Yager always told me to believe in myself, no matter what happened. She even supported me through my battle with Ritalin, although she never told anyone but me. I loved her.

In fact, I used to fantasize that she'd meet my dad and they'd fall madly in love and marry and I'd have an awesome mother and an amazing dad and maybe little brothers and sisters one day.

I never told Dad or Ms. Yager that fantasy, especially because it never came true. When I moved to third grade, I almost felt like crying. It was a rough transition. That was Ellen O'Ryan's first year in the school district, and I've had to put up with her ever since. Ellen is your basic elementary school bully. She made me feel like a worthless piece of trash, unconfident, and just, bad. I was the least popular girl in the class and my new teacher, Mrs. Rowe, couldn't care less.

There was this one time, I had brought a cutting of one of my newest plants, this time, purple cosmoses, to give to Ms. Yager when Ellen came up to me and grabbed my precious little flowers. She claimed the best of the lot, flouncing it about in her hair. The rest of them, she shoved in my face, getting dirt on my glasses and down my shirt. I cried. And then Mrs. Rowe got me in trouble for messing up her precious Ellen's flowers.

That was a rough year. Especially because Dad spent so much time working. He had gotten a promotion, but that meant he had to deal with even more of the stuff he "joked" traumatized him. Some times, I'd come home and he'd just be sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, shaking. Those were some of the worst nights, but he always took me out to get pizza if that happened. Pizza and ice cream and sometimes a movie or a show. I remember one night was really bad, and then he took me to see the Lion King on Broadway. It was really great!

My life got steadily better throughout all of fourth grade and into fifth. In fifth grade, there was this kid named Lucien, and he was a little weird. He scared all the girls and most of the boys hated him. Everyone picked on him. It's really mean of me and all, but I was grateful that Ellen O'Ryan had someplace else to channel her emotions. I mostly ignored Lucien, he was nothing to me.

I had a whole garden in my room during fifth grade. My room in our NYC apartment wasn't very big, but it faced the south and Dad got me some fluorescent lights that worked really well to keep the plants warm. I learned to sleep with the bright lights on. Plants die if you don't make some sacrifices. The prize of my collection were my bonzai, since I didn't have an orchid yet. I really loved my bonzai. One was cut to resemble a heart with an arrow running through it. I showed it off at an art contest and got second prize. My wood carvings got fifth place.

I thought my life was good enough, but Dad always seemed to think I should have more friends. He kept hinting I should visit people's houses and invite them home to mine, but I really didn't want too. I was fine on my own. One night in December, I came home and found a parakeet on our kitchen table. There was a note attached to it.

Dearest Katie,

I'm sorry. Work has called me in for longer than I expected, they're sending me oversees for an investigation. The 'keet's food is in the lower drawer on the left side of the kitchen. Feel free to name her.

I love you,

Dad.

Throughout the end of my eleventh year of life, Dad would be gone for weeks on end, with only Helen Richards, who lived an apartment down from us to watch me. Dad always left some plant as a present, or another parakeet. I had four parakeets by the end of April; Andromeda, Penelope, Atlanta and Bobbette. Please don't ask me why I named her Bobbette. It just came to me and I really liked it. The others, well, to be honest, I dreamed in Greek legends and I liked those names.

Although, I've never understood why Penelope is pronounced pen-EL-op-ie, instead of pen-E-lope.

Dad and I never went out for pizza and ice cream and show anymore, I think that's what hurt the most. When he was home, he was exhausted and tired and he always tried to act like everything was fine, but I could tell that he was going through a lot. And then Helen kept stopping by. I was used to her popping in to check on me when he wasn't around, but it was unnerving when they began to spend more and more time together.

I retreated to my room more and more, turning myself into the perfect student. I got all As. I cultivated my garden more and more and more. I trained Andromeda, Penelope, Atlanta and Bobbette separately. Don't laugh at me, but Atlanta and Andromeda had great singing voices. Within a month, I had them singing "Can You Feel the Love Tonight " from The Lion King. Atlanta sung Simba's part, and Andromeda sung Nala's part. Also, I hummed Amazing Grace once, and Andromeda practically gobbled down the tune, so I taught her the words. Penelope, I trained to recite some of my favorite poems, and I taught Bobbette the Gettysburg's Address and Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream." Helen – she insisted I call her that – practically forced me to enter the four of them into a talent show.

The judges said that I would have won with just Penelope reciting "Charge of the Light Brigade." So, naturally, I got first prize. They also suggested I enter other types of contests with my fabulous birds. To celebrate, Dad brought me another parakeet. It annoyed me how Dad and Helen seemed to think that my birds were all I cared about anymore, but only a little. I really did love the birds. My twelfth birthday was on July 2nd and I really, really wanted my orchid. Anyway, I named my fifth parakeet Rhea.

My orchid. I had told Dad that I wanted a Cascading Cymbidium Orchid and he said he'd find one for me. The Cascading Cymbidium is a gorgeous orchid. It grows in these hanging pendents. I mean, these cords can reach almost 3 feet in length and they're this beautiful color and everything. And they didn't require some of the really annoying things that some orchids need. I really, really, really wanted one.

Rhea took a liking to cosmoses her first day with me. Whenever I let them out of their various cages, she insisted in perching among my precious flowers. Try and picture my room, just for a moment. I had one mattress on the floor and the rest of the room was pretty much cover with green plants and various flowers. I still had a place for the orchid though, I never forgot the orchid. The five bird cages perched side by side on a self opposite the window. Sometimes, I let Rhea and Penelope perch downstairs, but never Bobbette, Atlanta or Andromeda. What language they knew was too valuable. When I let all five birds out of their cages, it was chaos.

But I loved it; my plants and my birds were my best friends.

School let out in late and I spent almost all my time in my room. Once, I took Rhea for a walk to see if I could get her imitating the sounds of the city. She spooked and almost flew away because I wasn't holding her leash properly. The creepy kid, Lucien, from school, caught her for me. He handed me the leash, cautioning me that Rhea could really hurt herself if she tried to fly again. Like I didn't know that. I thanked him, rather tersely, because I was rather creeped out that he was there at all.

Rhea and I returned to the apartment and she hopped gratefully back to the cosmoses. She started to whistle "Amazing Grace." Please don't ask me why that is my birds' favorite song, it just is. Andromeda and Atlanta insisted on practicing their latest duet, "A Whole New World," while I worked on my various bonzai. I was happy. I had my friends and my flowers, school was out and I had all As, and I was getting an orchid the day I turned twelve. Life couldn't be better unless Dad was home a bit more.

o()-()-()-()o

A week after school let out, I woke to Penelope singing Happy Birthday. I blinked at her for awhile, trying to figure out who had taught her that song. Helen must have; she was the only one I ever let close to the five birds. I jumped out of bed, gave Penelope a big kiss of thanks and ran downstairs.

Helen was waiting for me with breakfast ready. She had this really sad smile on her face.

I plopped down in the table across from her, "Hi Helen!"

"Happy Birthday Katie," Helen said. She pushed a plate of pancakes towards me and glanced at the door. Her smile looked even sadder.

"Where's Dad?" A part of me already knew the answer, but I refused to acknowledge it. Dad would have refused any job taking him away. He had promised to be here on my birthday. To give me an orchid. He had promised. Helen handed me a wrinkled note. I unfolded the note, trying to keep the bile from rising in my throat. My good mood had completely evaporated.

My Darling Katie,

Happy Birthday! I hope you have a fabulous day. I'm sorry I had to leave, but this task is unavoidable. Your birthday present is on the balcony. Have a good day. I'm thinking of you.

Love,

Dad.

I bit my lip and pushed the pancakes away. I really didn't feel like food. Hopefully my orchid would help me feel better. That is... if he... I shook that thought from my head and stood, heading for the little apartment balcony. I heard Helen calling me back, but I ignored her. I slid open the door to the balcony and stopped. The cage had a blue ribbon on it, with a little blue parakeet in it, twittering away in the morning sunlight. I probably stood frozen for a count of ten.

I...

In a fit of blind rage, I grabbed the cage by the handle and flung it into the house. The parakeet screamed in protest, flapping her wings as the cage flew through the air and crashed against a wooden chair. "Katie!" Helen cried, shocked. I didn't stop. Anger boiled in my stomach and throat. I threw the cage again, sending it crashing against a wall. The parakeet squawked, almost weakly. "Katie!" Helen's arms enveloped me. I fought her, trying to get at the cage, trying to destroy it. The little parakeet was still squawking. Tears of rage and sadness spilled from my eyes, staining my cheeks and Helen's arm. I sobbed into her, letting her hug me for all she was worth.

Dad had promised. He had promised he would get me an orchid, way back, four years ago, he had promised. He had promised two weeks ago. And now he gets me another parakeet. I sobbed.

He hadn't gotten me my orchid.