“I don’t understand.” She stood up and wiped her muddy hands on her jeans. Mud covered hereverywhere,and she didn’t seem to mind one bit. “I’m Nora.”
“Oh my God, never mind.” I snorted. “You’re off path, in the weeds, that’s what I meant. What are you doing?”
“I haven’t seen flowers like this. They are beautiful, and I was admiring them. Looking at their stems and leaves.” She beamed, like she got a perfect score on a test. “Is that okay? Did I break…the rules?”
“Nope. Just got worried you ran off and got lost in the wilderness.” I put my hands in my pockets and rocked back on my heels. A beat passed, and I smiled, hoping to ease the weird tension. Did Steve upset her? I hated knowing I might’ve caused it. “Uh, did things go okay with Steve?”
She shrugged and went back to the yellow wild flowers. “I asked him what he thought about marriage, and he stumbled and stopped talking.”
“Nora, you can’t…not the first time you meet someone. That’s intense and will make people run far away. It’s more a…fifth date type of thing.”
“Fifthdate? Fritz. Look at me.” She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “I’m covered in mud. I had to look up how to make Pop-Tarts on my phone this morning because I didn’t know how. Your friend laughed at me. I can’t…this life isn’t for me.”
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself before I walked up,” I said, not caring that the argument sounded weak. My annoyance at Steve spiked. He’d upset her. I didn’t appreciate the tight lines around her mouth or the way she kept making a fist at her side. Instead of going over to call him a dick, I focused on the rest of her rant. “Don’t let one awkward convo stop you from having a good time. You deserve it.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me. “I’d like to go now.”
“Fine. Great.”
She marched by me, heading in the wrong direction. “Other way, Nora.”
“Fine.”
We made our way to the car, and I waved at Steve before we left. My plan didn’t go as I’d hope, at all. My most easygoing, laid-back friend couldn’t handle Nora, and if she wasn’t distracted, she would try to findAnthonyagain.
My neck burned, and when I approached a stop sign as we left the country road, I noticed her arms and neck were also red, and I made a note to get her some aloe. Never mind. She already had a whole aloe plant. I wanted to ask her, but the tension seemed to clog the cabin. She had her phone in her hands, moving her fingers over the keyboard fast as her lips moved with soundless words.
The familiar sound of an email being sent filled the car, and she sighed, leaned back into her seat, and smiled. “Today was enlightening. That was for sure.”
“How so?”
She sounded hopeful, and maybe the experience was good for her. I tapped my fingers on the wheel, anxious for her answer. My phone buzzed in my pocket against my thigh, and that was the only warning I got before she said, “It made me anxious to get my life started. The wild flowers there—they were beautiful. And the concept of volunteering…I want to organize trips through the Greenhouse.”
“That’s a great idea,” I said, still skeptical of the glint in her eyes. “You could even help out with that from time to time.”
“Sure, maybe. But I need to get started. Now. I don’t want to wait.”
Ah, there it was. I swallowed hard and adjusted my sweaty grip on the wheel. She sighed and tilted her head to look out the window with a smile toying on her lips. I hated that I wanted to know why it was there. “Thinking about your greenhouse?”
“No. I’m thinking about Anthony Carter.”
I gritted my teeth. I knew it. Silence filled the cabin, and my pulse sped up, intruding on what I thought was a great moment. I liked hearing her talk about the greenhouse, her passion for it, but it shattered when she mentioned me. “Still trying to find him?”
“I found his email, so that’s a start. I think he might be avoiding me because he’s embarrassed about what happened, but I just need to talk to him. He’ll understand.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, a confident, happy look on her face. My phone seemed to weight a million pounds in my pocket.
She’d emailed me and looked way too confident about it. I had to read that email.
Chapter Seven
Grace and Gillypassed my phone back and forth, both of their faces scrunched in thought. Their silence was a worrying sign—they always had an idea or a plan for anything, but after dear Nora emailedAnthonyin an urgent tone, I had no idea how to respond.
The distraction plan would have to be taken up ten notches, but how did that happen when she was…so different? I sighed and stretched my hands over my head, relaxing onto Grace’s couch. It was our monthly Sunday get-together where we all met at Grace and Brock’s house, and Christopher joined us now that he and Gilly were getting married. This tradition had continued since college and served as the family Gilly and I had always wanted. Roots. Routine. Consistency. These gatherings helped me after that shit with Samantha imploded, and now, it’d help me balance this fine line of lying while protecting myself from the spoiled wrath of Nora.
“What do I say? Sayingout of townseems too shallow.”
“Dare I point out how much of a hypocrite you are?” Grace said, narrowing her eyes at me and giving me that scary teacher look she’d mastered quite well in the last few years. “You gave Gil so much shit for lying to Christopher.”
We all looked at Christopher in the kitchen, who held his hands up to his ears and turned his back to us. God, he was such a good dude. Gilly smirked at her fiancé before giving us her full attention.
