3
Recital day is my least favorite part of dance season. It’s also the only day that I don’t have to drag Winnie out the door to get there. She hates the practices but loves the big performance with the costume and bright lights. My nerves on her behalf consume my whole body on recital day. I prefer sitting in the waiting room, watching her dance around without a care in the world.
I have her bathed, fed, almost out the door, and only running a few minutes late when the mail on the counter catches my attention. There’s a thick white envelope with my name scribbled on the front and a Green Branch return address.
“Mommy, can I talk on your phone?” Winnie calls from the front door.
“What?” I flip over the envelope. “Sure.”
I open it to reveal a bunch of smaller paper envelopes inside. Each one has a name scrawled across the front, and in each, are seeds. Dozens of seeds. Smooth aster, butterfly weed, trillium, purple coneflower and more. A little folded piece of paper has handwriting I know I will commit to memory.
Hannah.
you said you wanted a garden the other night on the phone. here are some seeds to start one. hopefully these are okay, they’re some of my favorites. especially the asters. they’re all wildflowers so they’re hardy and eggs don’t ship as well. i'm sure i had a boring day the day you’re getting this, but i’m excited to tell you about it anyway.
tanner.
“What’s that Mommy?” Winnie appears in the kitchen now, setting my phone back down on the counter.
“Flower seeds,” I tell her as my eyes trace the messy script of his handwriting.
“Are we going to have a garden?”
“That would be fun, wouldn’t it? Maybe we can get some pots this weekend and plant them. What do you think?”
She nods her head excitedly as I shove the rest of the mail stack in my already too full bag.
“Okay, we should go or we’re going to be late, and I need a lot more caffeine to get through the day.”
“Laughing?” Winnie questions.
“Caffeine. Coffee.”
After tripping out the door over all of mom’s bags for Florida, I swing through and get my second coffee of the afternoon and get Winnie a cake pop. I avoid eye contact with Anderson Forrest’s glaring billboard eyes as we veer off the highway toward my old high school where the dance studio puts on every dance recital. It feels so foreign, walking through the frontdoors. It feels like nothing has changed and yet it’s been ten years since I graduated, so everything has.
I send Winnie off to her group for the final run through when my phone buzzes.
Tanner: orange or pink?
Hannah: Both? Definitely both. Why?
Tanner: how’s the great state of illinois this afternoon?
Hannah: The coffee drive-through took forever and I think they gave me decaf… Why the color question? How’s work?
Tanner: the shop has had more cars in for broken air conditioners than I have ever seen. have any plans to come up this summer?
A year and a half ago, I drove to Chicago to visit Lauren. She was navigating the early days of her career and the complicated feelings she had with her editor, Rhett Atwood. I had promised myself on the drive into the city that I would turn off mom mode for the night. Turn off the lonely wife persona that had etched itself into my skin over the years. I promised myself that I would put every role I was juggling in my pocket and pretend that they didn’t tie me down. For Lauren. I could do anything for Lauren.
When we arrived at some swanky bar, I stepped out from behind my sister, and I instantly locked eyes with this tall guy who was also severely under-dressed in worn blue jeans and a baseball hat.
Blue jeans was looking at me like I had something he wanted.Or maybe, I dared to let my mind wander, thatIwas something he wanted. I swept a glass of champagne off the passing tray and downed it. Before I knew it, he was being introduced to me as Rhett’s best friend.
And that feeling… God, that rush was something I didn’t know I could feel anymore. My entire body flushed at the up-turned corner of his mouth as he smirked at me like he knew something I didn’t.
All night, his eyes crinkled with a smile as I talked, his hands flexed when I accidentally found myself swaying into his space, his jaw clenched with a soft smirk when I would catch him staring.
I made a concerted effort to keep my hands to myself the entire night because if I was anything, I was not my husband. I knew Ethan was with his mistress that night and I had every right to kiss this man like my entire body begged me to, and yet I didn’t. I insisted we buy our own drinks and every time my body felt that pull toward him, I was on the move. Insisting we leave the rooftop and try out a run-down karaoke bar. Tanner and I were constantly coming too close to something.
