“That’s sad,” Taryn said with a long sigh. “Zoe won’t even know her mother when she comes back for her if it takes months instead of weeks.”
“She will; I’m not too worried about that. But I’ve got to admit that I’ll sure miss our little girl when Rebecca is better. I’d like for Rebecca to stick around these parts, maybe even work part-time at the flower shop until she’s completely well. You all will be gone by the end of summer, so there’ll be an empty trailer that she could live in,” Clinton said.
“Or she could live in the apartment, and you could take the trailer since you are outgrowing the place with all your veterans’ business,” Taryn suggested.
That sounded like a great idea, but he was thinking about a bigger building—maybe on Main Street—not a trailer behind a flower shop. The people who worked at the VA offices in the area were already sending him more and more vets who needed help.
“That’s an even better idea.” Clinton shook the thought off and started his drive toward the first delivery place. “Are any of you sticking around to help Irene when she gets her new knees this fall?” That could make a difference.
“I might,” Taryn answered without much hesitation, “but I imagine that I’ll stay with her in her house, not live in the trailer. I can’t answerfor my cousins. Even though they are getting better with each other, they’ve got a long way to go.”
“Have you ever thought that maybe their bickering is the way they show affection to each other?” Clinton asked.
“If that’s right, then I feel sorry for their husbands, if they ever do get married,” Taryn said with a sigh. “I wouldn’t want to spend every day for the rest of my life with someone who thought arguing was showing love.”
“Me either, but I’ve known couples like that,” he said. “One of my friends in the military and his wife were constantly bickering. He said it made the sex hotter.” He pulled up into the driveway of a brick home and felt heat rising from his neck to his face. Was it too soon to use theSword so casually in front of her? Sure, she’d been in the service and heard worse, but it seemed disrespectful. He cleared his throat and said, “First stop. The vase with all the red roses goes in here.”
Taryn got out of the vehicle, opened the back hatch, and picked up the arrangement. She carried it across the yard to the porch and rang the bell. When Diana Marlow opened the door, Taryn tried to say that she had a delivery for Polly Granberg, but words wouldn’t form.
“Oh, how lovely.” Diana clapped her hands. “Clinton has sent me roses. I’m so excited that I could just cry.”
Taryn had forgotten that Polly was Diana’s grandmother. “No, they’re from—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Diana beamed. “I’m always glad to get flowers from anyone.”
“They’re for Polly,” Taryn said. “I’m sorry. I should have told you that when you opened the door.”
Diana’s happiness turned into a mixed expression of anger and disappointment; then she laughed out loud. “It doesn’t matter. Nettie Jones is watering her lawn across the street. She sees that you handedflowers to me, so she’s going to think they’re from Clinton. That puts me one over on Elaine and Mallory—so thank you, Taryn.” She took the flowers with another chuckle and closed the door.
Taryn noticed that Nettie Joneswasalready talking on her phone when she left the porch. “You are not going to believe this,” she said as she got back into the SUV. “Diana answered the door and is going to let people think thatyougaveherthe flowers.”
“But they were from a lady in Kentucky who said she was Polly’s cousin, and the flowers were for her birthday.” Clinton groaned. “I was hoping that this stupid contest had died out. None of those women have been around in a few days.”
“Evidently, it’s not over yet, and there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight,” Taryn said. “The next one goes to a teenager a couple of doors down from Nana Irene’s house. They’re from her boyfriend for her sixteenth birthday.”
Clinton backed out of the driveway, rolled down the window, and pulled up to the curb across the street. “Good afternoon, Nettie. Your roses are beautiful. I believe your roses are even prettier than the ones we just delivered to Polly.”
Nettie dropped her phone into the pocket of her apron. “Oh, I thought they were for Diana since she seemed to be so happy. She says that she’s going to marry you by Christmas.”
“Maybe Christmas in fifty years, if I have lost my mind,” Clinton teased.
Nettie covered her giggles with the back of her hand. “In my day, girls didn’t chase boys. It was the other way around.”
“I wish it was still that way,” Clinton told her. “You have a nice day, now.”
Nettie laid the garden hose on the ground beside the rosebushes, sat down on a bench, and took her phone back out of her pocket. She was already talking by the time Clinton rolled up the window and drove away.
“Do you really not feel anything for any one of those women?” Taryn asked. “They’ve thrown their hats into the ring to seduce you, and brought you food, and tried to win your heart. What more do you want?”
“I want a woman who loves me for who I am, not for the money my family has or for the hero worship that isn’t even real,” he answered. “Those women don’t want me; they want to win a contest so they can lord it over the others who lost. That’s the foundation for a divorce. When I get married, I’m going into it with the conviction and determination that it is a forever thing.”
“Amen!” Taryn agreed, glad to hear him voice exactly the way she felt about marriage and a permanent relationship.
Clinton grinned. “Was I preaching to the choir?”
“Little bit.” Taryn smiled over at him.
Jorja laced her hands behind her head and tried to count the holes in just one ceiling tile, but she kept thinking about what Anna Rose had said about therapy. Throwing things helped, but maybe there were more tricks that would make her stop dreaming about what had happened ten years ago.
