For reasons that had nothing to do with self-preservation, I still liked her. I still wanted to understand her marital status and the circumstances of her arrival next door, and if given the chance, I wanted to get her under me. That was all it would take to get her out of my system.
My mother cleared her throat, arched her brows up. I rubbed my forehead again. "Is that really the conversation we need to have right now?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "We need to find a replacement for those bayberries and I have two tree warden stops to make today. Can we set this aside for another day?"
"You'll only be more backed up with emotional shit the longer you wait," she muttered.
"Is there a different metaphor you could use? Literally anything else? I'm not a fan of this one."
Very much ignoring me, she peered at a five-year-old dogwood that was much too big for her yard. "Has it ever occurred to you," she started, strolling down the aisle again, "that every time you've been presented with a path in life, you take the solitary one? Even if it means you're forging your own trail and blindly hacking your way through the woods?"
A headache was gathering behind my eyes, a dark, heavy cloud of pressure born from too little sleep and too much coffee. I squinted in response to the pain but that only diffused it into my temples, the base of my neck. The smart course of action involved leaving this greenery, drinking a ton of water, eating a meal that didn't come in a cup from Dunkin' Donuts.
Yet I stayed here, my fingers flexing and my head throbbing, my throat dry and my body strung tight from too many days spent wondering what the hell was going on with Jasper. Whether she was all right. How anyone could leave her and leave so abruptly. It seemed abrupt to me. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe…I didn't know. Maybe there was an explanation, like she was hoping he'd come back for her. "There's something wrong with that? I had no idea. No one ever mentioned it."
My mother whirled around and ducked under the branches of a lilac tree to face me. She folded her arms over her chest, her persimmon cardigan clashing with the thunderous glint in her eyes. She stared at me until I was certain that thunder was real, that it was rumbling in my ears and threatening to kick up a downpour.
"Linden, listen to me. Of all my babies, I've given you the most time to find your way. You were the last to arrive and you did so well when I stopped expecting you to follow anyone else's path."
I stared at my mother, unmoved by the millionth reminder that I pulled up the rear of the Santillian triplets on all things, born about thirty minutes behind my brother and sister and damned to a lifetime of last-place comparison.
She tapped her index finger twice as if hammering her thesis to my sternum. "You've never been in a rush like Ash or lost like Magnolia but you have beenalone—and I don't believe that's what you truly want from your life."
"And that's why I'm—what is it, full of emotional shit? Because I'm alone? As you love to remind me, I have plenty offriends."
"I don't have to explain to you the difference between that kind of company"—she pinned me with the most unimpressed stare in human history—"and meaningful emotional connections."
I was very interested in offering a quip about sex being an especially meaningful connection if you did it right but I could still hear her thunder inside my head and she would totally send me to my room without supper. Even if I lived in my own home and cooked for myself.
"All right." I jerked my shoulders up with as much acquiescence as I had to offer. "You make some fine points. I will think about them. Sorry for worrying you."
"Oh, no, no, no." A brisk laugh cracked out of her as she dropped her hands to her hips. "No, Linden, you are not getting off easy with a hangdog shrug and some 'sorry, Mom.'"
"What did you have in mind?"
After flaying me with a stare, she crossed to the autumn annuals arranged on waist-high tables. She didn't need another dozen chrysanthemums to clutter the front steps but I wasn't going to be the one to take up that fight.
"Your father and I are celebrating our fortieth anniversary this year," she called over her shoulder while I trailed behind her. "We haven't finalized all the details yet but we're throwing ourselves a big party. We didn't want to wait for our fiftieth. That seems like a terrible way to tempt fate."
"Don't say shit like that." I shook my head as she gave a quick shrug and tucked a few strands of hair over her ear, as if she hadn't thrown a mortality grenade into this discussion. "Just…don't say shit like that, Mom."
"We won't be around forever. There's no reason to pretend otherwise."
"I know that. I get it. Okay? But we've covered a fuckton of messy topics today. I'm going to need you to hold the circle of life convo for another time."
My mother offered a series of grumbles, sighs, and harrumphs before returning to fully formed words, eventually saying, "We're planning a party for November or December. Probably November because we don't want to compete with holiday gatherings and your sister's due date."
"That sounds delightful." I was aiming for sincerity with that comment but also hoping like hell I didn't have to help plan the menu or hire a band.
"You won't have to do anything other than show up," she said, and that wasn't the first time my mother had more or less read my mind. "But I expect you to bring someone special. Someone youcareabout." She tossed open her hands. "Or two people. Whatever your arrangement is, as many people as you want to love, Linden. Whomever your heart chooses."
Of all the fucking things, the memory of Jasper crying on her porch chose this moment to flood my mind.
What the actual fuck was that?
Just…fuckkkk. No. Not that.
Jasper aside, I didn't want to experience any form of heart-choosing. I wasn't like my brother or sister. My heart didn't choose anyone because it didn't want anyone. My heart loved solitude with some fun thrown in when the mood was right. My heart craved the predictable cadence of the earth moving through seasons. My heart wanted to beat free of entanglements.
My family was enough for me. I had my siblings and the families they were creating. That was enough. It wasplenty.
