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“So deal with it. People lie all the time and we have to put up with it. It’s the way of the world, remember?”
“It’s not like you to lie.”
“Well, it’s not like me to have to deal with everything I have to. I’m adapting.”
“You’re pissed off.”
She growled, glaring at him. “What do you want?”
“I want you to get it off your chest. I know it builds up inside you until you explode and when that happens. it’s not good.”
She took a deep breath. “It’s Tabs.”
“I know.”
“Then why ask?”
“You need someone to get it off your chest. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
She picked up the wooden spoon. Baking usually helped to relax her. It wasn’t doing that. Far from it.
Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she sighed. “It has been five years, Anthony. Five years. I know something happened to make all the sticky details of Ryan’s death go away. I get it. He shouldn’t be hiding. He should be right back here with her, but still, he’s being selfish, doing what he wants to do, while we have to continue to pick up the pieces.”
“Are you pissed that he’s not dealing with her, or that we have to?” he asked.
“I don’t know and that’s what is so frustrating to me.” She dropped the spoon and stepped away from the dough. “I don’t even know if I want him to come back. He doesn’t deserve her. She’s twenty-three years old and hasn’t been on a single date. It has always been Simon and where is he now? Where was he when she went through all that crap? You and me. We’ve been the ones to keep her together. Miles as well. Us.”
“She’s ours, Daisy. You know this.”
“But what if he comes here, and she doesn’t get angry? What if she forgives him easily?”
“And you don’t want her to?”
“No.” She shook her head. “He did what he did, and how he created all this mess and then he just left, like it was no big fucking deal. Tabs has been through enough. If he truly loved her, he wouldn’t have left, and it makes me so mad because deep down, I know she’ll forgive him. They’re soul mates.” She shook her head and turned, needing some air. Opening the door, she stepped out into the night, bending over, putting her hands to her knees, and taking big gulps of air. Once, twice, three times.
Anthony followed her. He placed a hand on her back, and she kept on taking big gulps of air.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“You keep saying that, but I don’t see it. I really don’t. He has no right to her, or to Nathan. He just left.”
Anthony pulled her into his arms. “We’re going to be here for her. We always are.”
“But will she listen to us?”
“Tabitha will always make her own choices. You know this. We’re her friends. It’s our job to keep her up when she falls. It’s all we can do.”Chapter TwoTabitha wiped at her brow. Sweat still slid into her eyes but she wasn’t going to stop until every single weed was out of her garden path. She hated weeds; they always made her lawn untidy.
Sitting back onto her feet, she brushed the dirt off her gloves and rested her hands on her thighs, watching her son.
Nathan sat near a flower bed, digging into the soil and planting the flower bulbs she’d picked up at the florist the other day.
I can’t believe I’m actually gardening.
This was a far cry from the days of fighting and running around causing trouble. Tomorrow, she’d be taking him to the fair. He was excited about it. She hadn’t been back to see Daisy since their cross words and she wasn’t in a rush to go see how happy her best friend was.
Her back ached a little from being bent over for so long. Gardening helped her to pass the time. It gave Nathan time outside and she got a pretty decent-looking front yard out of it. She’d been blessed with an adorable kid.
“Do you want me to get you some lemonade, Mommy?” Nathan asked.
“Of course. I’d love it. Can you reach?”
“Yep, and I will only use the unbreakable glasses.”
She chuckled as he quickly brushed his hands and rushed inside. She’d be lucky if he remembered to wash his hands.
Getting stuck back in, she gave the dandelion weed she was currently fighting a nice big tug, grunting as she did.
She looked up as a large, somewhat wrinkled hand wrapped around the weed and pulled as if it was nothing more than a tiny little weed that hadn’t gotten a chance to grow.
Tiny, her father, smiled down at her as he threw it into the pile of other dandelions. “I’ve got to say, I didn’t exactly see you as the gardening type.”
