I followed it like gospel.
I was laying out the first row of raised beds—just rough-cut frames for now, lined with cardboard and filled with compost—when I heard the door creak open behind me.
Music filtered out first. Something bright and bouncy with a retro beat. Then feet—two sets—tapping along to the rhythm on the back porch.
I turned, wiping my forearm across my brow.
Selene stood in the doorway of her place, holding her phone in one hand, the other extended toward her daughter. She was barefoot, laughing as Winnie tried to copy her movements, elbows flapping like a baby bird, braid swinging behind her.
“You’re cheating,” Selene said, twirling in place.
“I’m improvising,” Winnie declared, nearly colliding with the railing.
Selene caught her just in time, steadying her with both hands, and then they were laughing again, spinning together. The sun caught in their hair. It painted Selene’s face in warm gold, catching on her cheekbones, glinting off her collarbone where the neckline of her dress dipped just slightly.
She hadn’t seen me staring yet.
I leaned on the handle of the shovel, pretending to inspect the garden bed, though my eyes kept drifting back to her. Her hips swayed as she danced, loose and easy, like no one was watching. Like she didn’t even care if they were.
Maybe she didn’t.
“Hey!” Winnie called suddenly, catching sight of me. “You too!”
I shook my head and straightened. “Nope. Busy. Very official garden duties underway.”
Selene arched a brow, playful. “Scared you’ll get shown up?”
I grinned. “Terrified.”
Winnie ran through the gate toward me and grabbed my hand. “Just one spin. I don’t care if you’re dirty.”
“Peer pressure is a powerful thing.” I laughed, dusting off my hands and setting down the shovel before twirling Winnie’s arm in a wide circle.
Selene clapped as she stepped onto my side of the lawn. Winnie beamed and gave a dramatic count-in like she was cueing a Broadway number. I took her hand, spun her once, then dipped her into a ridiculous bow.
She shrieked with laughter.
Selene shook her head, arms crossed but smiling. I caught her eye and gave her a wink.
She looked away too quickly, but when I handed Winnie back and spun to return to my side, I heard her murmur something under her breath.
“What’s that?” I asked, pausing to look back at Selene.
She looked at me then. “You’re really good with her.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d said that, and the compliment shouldn’t have hit as hard as it did. I scratched the back of my neck. “She’s easy to like.”
Selene smiled again, but this one was quieter. Thoughtful. It lingered in my chest as I went back to my garden plot.
The buzz was still there hours later, even after the sun dipped below the horizon.
On Saturday,I was driving through downtown, and I hadn’t expected to see them.
I’d just wrapped a grocery run—milk, eggs, a six-pack of whatever beer was on sale—and was heading down the main street in town when I spotted my favorite duo. Selene in jeans and a striped tee, Winnie bouncing beside her in light-up sneakers and a unicorn backpack, both holding ice cream cones that were melting faster than they could keep up.
They were laughing. Heads tipped toward each other, matching strides even though one had to slow down and the other had to half skip to keep pace.
I pulled over without thinking.
