I don’t know how to tell.
My gaze traces the peaked A-frame roof, the porch, where two empty chairs sit in the corner, to the flower beds around the—
I blink. Gasp. Throw open the door before I’ve even remembered to unbuckle my seat belt. Ihiss ashitandfuck, wrestling to untangle myself, then tumble out of the car and run to theflower bed. My jeans sink right into the wet earth as I drop to the ground, gaping down at the tiny sprouts breaking through the soil. Tears tingle behind my eyes.
The tulips.Right here, finally, bright green and healthy.
“I thought you were gone,” I whisper, gliding my finger gently over the side of one. It’s sturdy and strong already.
Last year, I spent weeks walking over here from my parents’ house. I’d approach with hope ballooning my chest, but every time, it would pop and deflate when I found nothing. Ihad to stop checking because the disappointment was too heavy.
I don’t know what it is, butsomethinghas changed. The weather? The compost? The universe? Whatever it is, I’ve never been so happy for a glimmer of hope.
“You’re going to be beautiful,” I tell them, emotion bleeding through the words. A tear falls and lands on my thigh. Iwipe my cheeks with the back of my hand and sniffle.
A wet laugh trickles out of me when I realize I’m crying over tulip sprouts, but something about these sprouts feels like a message. And I don’t know what that message is yet, but I’m paying attention. Itmeanssomething. Ican feel it in the earth beneath me, right up into my bones.
“I’m listening, Gramps,” I whisper, rubbing my hands up my arms to fight the sudden chill in the air.
Chapter 24
Theo
“She’s probably just trying to convince you she needs a second dinner,” I inform Mom.
Her voice crackles through the phone as she checks with her boss for the night. “Are you still hungry, Layla girl?”
This happens every time Mom babysits, and I’m starting to wonder why Layla even wants to come home with me after. She gets new toys, extra treats, and apparently a second dinner at Mom’s house. Mom sighs.
“She looks awfully sad.”
“That’s because she knows you’re a softie.” I round the corner to the concession stand, and Fable comes into view. She’s ordering our food, her head tipped back laughing.
“I’ll just give her a half serving. It’ll be like dessert,” Mom decides.
“I’m sure she’ll love that. Give her a kiss for me. One for Mr. Maxwell too.”
“Have fun. Love you.”
“Love you too,” I tell her before tucking my phone away and walking toward Fable.
I expect to find the owner of the concession stand, Fran, onthe other side of the glass, but instead it’s her son, Tony, and the way he’s looking at Fable with hearts in his eyes right now... well, I’m not proud of that little stab of jealousy. But it’s there nonetheless.
“How long are you in town?” Fable asks. Iset our beers down on the small counter and pull out my wallet.
He types a couple things on the register. “Only the weekend. Wanted to help out with the fundraiser. What are you up to these days?”
“Just working at Hawkins Hardware,” she replies.
“Oh, I’ll have to stop by tomorrow,” Tony says, a bit too excited for my liking. “You visited me, I’ll visit you.”
Fable laughs softly. “Please. It gets boring around there sometimes.”
Tony types a few more things. Shuffles some napkins around. Clears his throat. “Well, you look really good. Really happy.” He scans her face, his eyes doing a hopeful, flirty thing.
“Thanks. You too.” Fable’s eyes do it back, and I grind my teeth. “And do you mind making the fries extra crispy?”
He grins. “My pleasure.”
