Chapter 27
THURSDAY
THE LOCAL BOTANICAL gardens weren’t anything fancy—just a lovingly kept series of winding paths, wildflower patches, and gazebo nooks nestled between old trees and flowering arches—but Chelsey always thought they were a little enchanted and magical.
Every year something new was added, whether it was a plant or shrub or statue.
After they’d eaten breakfast at Annie’s—raspberry scones and almond milk for the win—Taylor drove them to the beginning of the tour. Chelsey worried that he would think this was too girly, but it was something she enjoyed and wanted to share with him. Maybe it was a test to see how he’d respond.
She didn’t need to worry.
“It smells like a wedding in here,” Taylor said as they passed under a trellis wrapped in honeysuckle.
Chelsey grinned, eyes scanning the garden map clutched in her hand. “That’s ‘Lover’s Loop.’ It’s themed: Roses and jasmine, which has a high potential for awkward handholding.”
“Oh, well then.” He wiggled his fingers dramatically, offering his hand. “For safety.”
She rolled her eyes and took it anyway. “Why does that remind you of a wedding? When was the last one you went to?”
“My good friend Alan was married recently in a “small” wedding in Japan. Small meaning a couple hundred relatives. Jasmine hung everywhere. I thought it would be overwhelming and possibly give me a headache, but it was quite beautiful.”
He reached up and plucked a dangling pink honeysuckle flower. “Do you remember this?”
She took one from him, peeled it and licked the nectar. “Like a summer party happening in my mouth.” A memory came through of the two of them lying under the star-laden sky, peeling honeysuckle flowers and talking about everything and nothing.
He squeezed her hand before tucking it under his arm and leading her down the stone path as the dappled morning light danced along their way. The tour was self-guided—part of the annual Blossoms & Berries Festival—and each stop had a plaque with garden trivia that Taylor read out loud.
“Wishing well: Toss a coin, make a wish…then make it happen yourself.”
Taylor grinned at Chelsey as he pulled a coin from his pocket and threw it in.
“What’d you wish for?”
“Just one date with Chelsey Hooper before the world ends.” He kissed her temple.
“You said it out loud. Will it happen now?”
“It’s like the sign says—I’ll make it come true myself.” He held up a penny. “What other wish could I ask for other than you’d travel the world with me?” He threw the penny in without looking, his eyes on her.
“I already said I’d visit you.” Her thoughts raced around each other, yelling at her that that was not what he meant, or wanted.
“So, you did. Wish comes true.” He smiled and clapped his hands once dramatically.
A look of sadness flitted over his face and disappeared like the sun through the waving leaves. But the promise to visit was all she could give him at the moment.
He glanced at the map she held. “You’re going to love the next area. The epiphany of summer.”
“You remembered,” she said, pausing near the daisy and sunflower plot.
Chelsey gave him a watery smile. It was the kind of small, thoughtful gesture that told her he saw her, and she grew to love and rely on as they dated.
Bees buzzed around the gently swaying heads, adding to the ambience of the moment. She took a breath to fortify herself for all the emotions wanting to push through. The flowers, Taylor, being the center of his attention were all a lot to take in.
“I never forgot,” he said simply. He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “There’s so much I can’t forget with you.”
Her throat tightened a little. “Mom planted those all along the white picket fence. I loved how they seemed to nod to anyone passing by.”
“I always thought your house looked cheery.” He glanced at her. “I haven’t seen much of those flowers lately.”
Chelsey looked at her sandaled feet and shook her head. “I haven’t had time. I’ve been so busy with everything.” And it reminded her of her mom’s last days too much. She asked Chelsey to open the windows so she could “see” summer from her hospice bed.
“Hey.” Taylor placed a finger under her chin. “It wasn’t a criticism. Only an observation. It must be hard to see those sunny flowers without thinking about your mom. Remember the good times with her.”
Taylor knelt by a patch of daisies and tugged a stray weed from the edge of the flowerbed, then looked up at her. “You know, I didn’t plan on the garden tour for nostalgia.”
“No?”
“No,” he said, rising to his feet. “But I like seeing you with sun on your face and your shoulders relaxed. Laughing. Not thinking about the next event or worrying about everyone except yourself. It’s good to see you at peace.”
Her heart fluttered like the butterfly that landed nearby. Peace. What was that, exactly? How did you find it? Was it in a place or with a person?
“Well,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder, “you’re doing a good job of distracting me.”
They stood there, surrounded by blooms and memories and the scent of sun-warmed earth. A breeze rustled the flowers behind them as Chelsey wrapped her arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder.
“Maybe this place is a little magical,” she whispered.
Taylor rested his head against hers. “Or maybe it’s the person you’re with.”
As they passed through the last of the wildflower meadows, Chelsey pointed toward a shaded grove tucked off the main path.
“Looks like there’s one more stop,” she said, reading from the little festival brochure. “Japanese Reflection Garden. Huh. I don’t remember this one.”
Taylor’s steps slowed as he read the sign. “It’s new,” he read quietly. “The city added it last year.”
They entered the grove, and the world outside melted away.
They stood at the beginning of the shaded area and tried to take it all in.
Pebble-lined paths wound through smooth stones, still ponds filled with koi and lily pads, and a delicate red bridge arched over a slow-moving stream.
A few prayer flags fluttered from a pine branch, and the scent of sandalwood lingered faintly in the air.
Chelsey let out a soft breath. “Wow.”
She took a few steps forward, tugging Taylor along with her. The temperature dropped at least ten degrees and the tranquil scene relaxed her even more. Was this what Japan was like?
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Chelsey said, her voice reverent. She glanced at Taylor, who nodded, but the corners of his mouth tightened.
She put a hand on his cheek. “You okay?”
“Yes,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “Just…peaceful here.”
Chelsey didn’t push. His fingers brushed the smooth wood railing of the bridge like he was trying to remember something only his skin could hold onto. They stopped on the bridge and stood side by side as the water lazily flowed underneath them.
“Kind of amazing, right? You think you’ve seen every corner of this town, and then something new blooms out of nowhere.”
“It really is.” He ran his fingers over her palm, sending waves up her skin.
It was better than high school, this grown-up relationship. They’d graduated from their teen years here. Could one graduate from a town as well? Maybe the heart could feel two things at once—longing and contentment. Grief and love. Maybe she didn’t have to decide everything right now.
The air suddenly felt heavy around them and it had nothing to do with the garden.
Something was going on with Taylor. Chelsey didn’t want to pry but at the same time, she was a little hurt that he wouldn’t confide in her.
Maybe that was just her insecurities from seven years ago when he’d left without saying anything.
Chelsey cleared her throat. “Do koi fish have a memory span? Or do they just keep swimming in circles?”
Taylor looked at her in surprise then laughed.
“Definitely circles,” he said, pulling her carefully along. “Though I’ve never seen one get motion sick.”
“Well, that’s a gross image to conjure up. Thank you for that.”
He kissed her knuckles. “Anything for you.”
They left the bridge hand in hand, the red arch behind them and the winding path ahead.