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“I’ve got my water, dear. Thank you.”
She handed me a pair of pink gloves, and I slipped them onto my hands. Shoving my fingers into the dirt, I dug up a spot next to hers for another flower.
“Mom, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” she said, bending back down to her spot.
“Has everything been okay around here lately?”
She stopped shoveling. “What do you mean? Are you asking about your father and me? We’re fine, Darling.”
“No. In the house.”
Mother sat back on her knees and stared at me with her dark eyes. “What are you talking about? What kind of things would be wrong?”
I shrugged and pulled out another patch of weeds. “I’ve been feeling ... weird. Like someone is watching me.”
She thought about it. “Everything has been fine to me,” she said. “Did something specific happen?”
“No,” I said softly. “Nothing specific.”
“Do you think it’s about Jacob?” she asked. “Maybe he’s just put you into a funk.”
“Yeah, probably.”
Mom looked over at me and shoved her shoulder into mine. “Tell me. What do you like in a guy?”
I chuckled. “Do not try to set me up with one of your girlfriends’ sons. I went to school with them, and trust me when I say they aren’t anything to write home about.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m just curious. Tell me. Who is your ideal guy?”
I chewed on my lip as I packed a flower’s roots down into the soil. “I don’t know. Strong, I guess. Determined.”
“Like a police officer?” she suggested.
“More like a lumberjack.”
Mom tossed her head backward, her hat falling off her head, and her blonde hair smashed against her forehead. “Dear Lord, Josie. So, a lumberjack. What else do you like?”
“Someone that takes charge. Doesn’t let me walk over them, not that I plan to, but I can be headstrong when I need to be.”
“Those are good qualities. What about his heart?”
Jacob had a good heart. He’d been a good guy to me. “Haven't you always told me that I would know when I found the right guy?”
“Of course,” she said. “I knew with your father.”
“Even though Jacob was the logical choice, I didn’t feel excited that he proposed. I’m hurt that he was hurt on social media, but I couldn’t sign myself up to be miserable my entire life.”
Mom sat back and pulled me up and into her arms. “No one expected you to, sweetie. You did the right thing.”
She placed her palm against my cheek. “Now, what is your dream guy’s heart like?”
“Soft,” I whispered into the wind.
It sounded like a contrast of personalities. To have a soft heart but be tough and ruthless. But I knew there was a man waiting for me out there who was brutish and kind.
Mom smiled. “I’m glad you’re here for the summer, sweet girl.”
