I shook my head. “If he does that and then we come out as a couple, that’s only going to make it worse for me. I think it’ll be fine if he just makes it clear that Milan’s not an option. Hopefully, that’ll be enough for this whole thing to die down and—” The knock at the door interrupted my sentence. I looked at my friends. “To be continued.”
Brunch with my parents and best friends was surprisingly great. The food was good, and the conversation was better. We filled Aunt Addy’s house with good times and lots of love. My parents were even less overbearing than usual. When Dad stepped out the back door, I followed behind him a few minutes later.
“It’s odd being here without Addison,” my dad said softly, looking around the backyard. “Like something is off.”
“Yeah.” I nodded, eyeing the garden. “But I still feel her here.”
He grunted, shoving his hands in his pockets.
We stood next to each other in silence.
“How are you holding up?” Dad asked.
“I’m sad, but I’m okay. I cried so much over the last few months that I thought I’d be all cried out at the service.” I gave him a tight smile. “Turns out, there were still tears left.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m glad you two had each other.”
“Me, too.”
“Did I tell you I had a dream about her Thursday night?” he wondered.
“No.” My lashes fluttered open, and I looked at him. “What happened?”
“It was a funeral, a traditional funeral, but it was right here in her backyard. The casket was over there”—he pointed toward the shed—“and the chairs were lined up neatly between the flower beds. No one was here yet. I was just walking around, making sure everything was in place. And I got to the spot right back there—”
“Where the rosebush once was,” I guessed.
He cut his eyes at me. “Don’t start.”
I giggled.
“I was standing in that spot, and I heard Addison say, ‘She’s been watered; watch her grow.’ And I thought she was talking about the flowers I messed up, so I talked to your mother about it. We were already planning on planting some African violets in her honor. Now we’re planting a rosebush, too.”
I smiled. “She’d love that.”
He turned and stared at me. “Watching how you handled everything—not just with the memorial service, but… everything—I just want you to know that your mother and I are very proud of you. I didn’t tell Addison that enough, and I won’t continue to make that same mistake with you. I’m proud of you. Even when you don’t make the choices that I want you to make, I’m proud of you and the woman you’ve grown to be.”
My eyes pricked with tears. “Thanks, Dad.”
Without another word, he drew me in for a hug and squeezed me tight. The moment he released me, I heard the back door open. As he marched his way back into the house, my mom made her way to my side.
“We need to talk,” my mom stated, placing her hand on my back. “Can you sit with me for a minute?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
We quietly made our way to the bench. Once we sat down, the afternoon sun gently baked my skin.
“I love you,” she said, breaking the silence.
With furrowed brows, I looked over at her. “I love you, too, Mom.” I paused. “Is everything okay?”
She looked straight ahead, seemingly holding back tears. “Did your dad tell you about the dream he had?”
I nodded. “Yeah. He just did.”
She blinked rapidly before turning her head and meeting my gaze. “Outside of your father, everyone thought I resented how close you and Addison were. But I didn’t. I was happy you had another person who loved you so much.” She paused. “I held on too tight, and I loved that you had someone who could love you in a more relaxed way. Shewas able to see all the fun and life ahead of you when I was worried about the harm that could come your way and how to best set you up for success. So I wasn’t jealous of the relationship you two had. I was grateful for it.” She put her hand on top of mine and patted it. “I know you thought I wanted you to be perfect. But I just wanted you to be prepared.”
“Prepared?”
