Straightening up, I’m hopeful. “Yeah? They’d fly me out too?”
I pause at shuffling and Noah’s muffled voice in the background. “They just bought our flights, honey. They can’t foot your bills too.” More talking. “Also, they only have the one spare room, but he said there are a bunch of Arby’s nearby?”
“What?” I winced.
“Oh. Airbnbs.”
“I can’t afford a last-minute flight and stay in New York. I’m a teacher in Green Valley,” I said softly.
“Those were your choices.”
“Mom,” I gasped. “I love being a teacher. You know what my students mean to me. That’s not fair.”
“Calm down,” she repeated, and my blood pressure spiked. “We support you, but can you think about it from our point of view? We have three children pulling us in all different directions. I have to go. Sorry it didn’t work out. When you have a family of your own, you’ll understand. Love you,” she said.
“Love you too.” The words sounded hollow.
She ended the call, and I blinked back the pain with slow and even breaths.
Don’t cry. Don’t get angry. Be rational.
I might have been shocked if it had been the first time, but this was the pattern. If anything, I was the fool for thinking this time would be different. Maybe it was selfish to expect everybody to fly out here when I was the only one single and without a “real” career or family.
I looked around the small apartment. Cold and empty. Four pies and a banana cake stared back at me, and a long, unscheduled weekend stretched ahead.
CHAPTER 2
LEO
Ashadow moved over me as I bent to tug out a sneaky weed that invaded my row of brightly colored perennials. I held my sun hat as I lifted my gaze to the newcomer. I noticed the giggling baby first, chubby cheeks and gurgling mouth gnawing on a clear plastic ring. My focus moved up to the massive form blocking the sun. A grumpy man attached to the baby looked down at me behind dark sunglasses.
Nerves set me on edge until I recognized my guest. I didn’t get a lot of visitors, and that was the way I preferred it.
Setting down the pruning shears, I dusted off my gloved hands on my very masculine gardening apron, then stood to greet the brooding man. I tugged my gloves off before tapping my earbuds to pause Neil Peart and the rest of Rush in my ears. The sounds of my peaceful gardenrushedin, pun intended, as I did. Birds chirped, and bees buzzed in the gentle sanctuary. I only had a few more weeks of this perfect summer weather before fall swept through Green Valley, but, based on the big man’s scowl, there would be no wasting his time.
I dropped my gloves onto the shears and greeted my unexpected guest, extending my hand. A bead of sweat rolled down my back in the humid summer air.
“Devlin. Good to see you,” I said.
He released one of the hands wrapped protectively around a chubby baby foot to shake my hand. His fist was massive, but I’d seen him play piano with unfathomable gentleness. At least my tall frame and lengthy arms made my profession as a drummer easier.Formerprofession.
“Leo. The yard looks very . . . colorful.”
“Thanks. My chrysanthemums took a bit to flourish this year. But you know, you just have to give them a little love and attention, and they’ll open up. There was a pretty intense bout of critters, but I managed them.”
I bit my tongue to avoid blabbering about the dangers of infectious local garden pests. I rarely said the right thing at the right time and even less often realized my faux pas until it was too late.
My former music camp counselor and local musical prodigy blinked at me. He’d had his hands full since the birth of his child and taking over the Symphonic Orchestra of Knoxville, aka the SOOK, as a full-time conductor. Not to mention the occasional shows he and his cellist wife, Kim, put on.
He was big and scary when I was a preteen, and not much had changed in the past fifteen years, even though I’d sprouted to over six wiry feet. I was that sort of tall that people didn’t notice as much because I was always the quiet kid, the odd kid. After I left this town and had success, several people from my class were asked about me and said they just thought I was “weird and quiet.” Not much had changed since I’d returned. I’d been avoided like the plague and was still an outcast in my hometown.
I was fine with being left alone. I had Janice and my garden. I didn’t need anything else.
“Anyway. How are you? You have a baby,” I hedged—another pun definitely intended.
Devlin made a sound like a growl in affirmation.
“Cute girl.”
