Chapter 4
It’s starting to look like a garden again.
Most of the weeds have been pulled, and the sign is propped back up. I’ve been playing around with a couple of ideas to make it look more fun and inviting.
All in all, we’re making progress.
Diana’s sitting cross-legged on the fountain we haven’t even begun to try to fix, giggling at something I said a full minute ago. It’s been a good day, almost perfect.
Until it isn’t.
I don’t even have to look up to know he’s here, the hum of the engine gives him away. That shiny blue car pulls up, sunlight bouncing off the hood. Scott Whitmore climbs out with his perfect hair and fancy clothes, sleeves rolled halfway up to reveal his tan arms.
“Hey, stranger,” he calls, flashing a grin that’d melt any teenage girl’s heart. Even Diana’s. She’s already on her feet, brushing dirt from her clothes. “Scott! What are you doing here?”
He shrugs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants. “Thought I’d make sure you haven’t forgotten about me.”
She laughs, light and pretty. “I’ve been helping with the garden, remember?”
He looks around, confused, like he’s trying to remember. “You’re still doing that? I thought that was just… a thing.” Her smile falls, but he doesn’t notice.
I snort before I can stop myself. He’s so dumb. That gets his attention.
“Oh,” he says. “Didn’t see you there. You’re uh… Linda, right?”
“Lily.”
“Right, right.” He nods like he’s going to remember, even though I’m positive he already forgot.
“Cool. Well… you girls have fun with your flowers,” he chuckles, like he’s said something hilarious.
I glare at him. “We will.”
“Scott, don’t you have your dad’s meeting today?” Diana says, before it can get more uncomfortable than it already is.
“Oh… yeah,” he says, checking his fancy gold watch. “But I wanted to see you before.” He digs in his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. “I got you something.” Of course he did.
Diana opens it, revealing a delicate gold necklace inside. She leans toward me so I can see the tiny chain and shiny diamond pendant. It’s barely anything, but it probably costs more than my trailer.
“Oh, Scott, you shouldn’t have!” she exclaims with a hand over her heart.
“It reminded me of you,” he says proudly. “Simple but classy.”
“Wow.” Is he serious right now? Diana is anything but simple. He smiles like he doesn’t have a clue.
“Don’t work too hard, babe.” He kisses her on the cheek, then waves. “Later, Linda!”
The second he’s gone, I let out a breath. “You sure know how to pick them.”
Diana glances at me, pocketing the tiny box. “He’s sweet.”
“He’s an idiot.”
She sighs like I’m impossible. “You should’ve seen the bracelet he bought me last week.”
“Wow. You’re right. I should’ve,” I say with a put-on voice, mocking her and her friends.
“Don’t be mean,” she pouts, her cheeks turning more pink than they were from the sun.
“I’m not being mean. I’m being honest.”
“Sometimes that’s the same thing with you.”
Pulling all of the weeds has my arms aching in places I didn’t know could ache. Pat says that means I’m working on my guns. I say it means I should’ve stayed in bed.
He’s pushing the old mower across what’s left of the grass, bare torso covered in sweat, whistling something I can hear over the sound of the old lawn mower he used to use to make some extra cash.
It rattles and smokes, but for now, it’s still going. My position on the fountain is starting to feel like a risk to my life.
“Remind me again why you’re doing this,” I call over the noise.
He grins, not looking up. “Because I’m a good friend. And you promised to buy me lunch.”
“I didn’t agree to that.”
He slows the mower to a stop and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. “You’re the worst boss I’ve ever had.”
“I’m not your boss.”
“Sure feel like it.”
I roll my eyes and go back to my notebook where I’m sketching a couple of options for the new sign, trying to ignore how hot it is.
It’s never not hot in Rosehill during the summer.
“So. The princess still coming?”
“She said she’d be here.”
When he doesn’t respond right away, I look up to find him smirking. “That mean you want me to go so y’all can have some alone time?”
I toss a crumpled-up sketch at him, not appreciating what he’s implying, but it doesn’t even make it halfway.
So much for guns.
“Shut up.”
“I’m just saying. You’ve been out here every day. Before that, I couldn’t pay you to leave your house in this heat.”
“Have you ever tried to pay me?”
“You’re deflecting.”
I glare at him as he comes closer, a joint that’s seemingly come from nowhere between his lips. “We’re working on the garden together. That’s all.”
“Right. And I help you cause I like sweating for free.” He smirks again, leaning on the mower handle. “You gotta give me somethin’, Lil.”
“I did like her,” I admit. “Past tense.”
“Sure. So, you… what? Think she’s ugly now? Wouldn’t jump at the chance to get with her if she asked?”
“I—” I stop, frowning. “I don’t… She’s complicated, okay?”
“Sure is pretty though.” I look up with narrowed eyes.
Pat chuckles. “Hey, I ain’t trying to steal your girl or anything.”
“She’s not my girl, Pat. You know she doesn’t—”
Before I can finish my sentence, the crunch of gravel makes us both look up. Diana’s walking toward us, carrying two cups and a paper bag from the diner.
“Good morning,” she says, polite as ever. “I brought coffee.”
Pat whistles, wipes his hands on his jeans, stepping forward to take a cup. “You must be the famous Diana. I heard a lot about you.”
“And you’re Pat?”
“The one and only.” He takes a sip, nodding. “You’re already a much better boss than her.”
“Hey!” I protest.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Diana says with a confused expression.
Pat glances between us, smirking like he’s watching something really entertaining. I hate him. “You two play nice. I’ll be over there pretending this thing ain’t trying to explode.” He nods at the mower and trudges off, leaving us alone.
She hands me the other cup. “Thought you could use this.”
“Thanks.”
“You know,” she says after a moment, sitting beside me. “It’s really starting to become something again.” I shrug, watching my best friend force the lawn mower into a corner. “I mean it.”
She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and I try to ignore the gold from Scott’s necklace catching the light. “You saw what it could be, even when it looked like nothing.”
“Yeah, well. Sometimes that’s all it ever is.”
She looks at me with that little furrow in her brow that means she’s upset. “You don’t believe that.” I do.
I don’t say I’m not talking about the garden.
We sit there for a while, the hum of the mower fading into the distance, the scent of grass heavy in the air. “Do you ever think,” she says softly, “that maybe things fall apart so you have to put them back together?”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“Maybe,” she says, smiling, but it looks sad. “I just want something good again.”
My eyes look over my notebook, at the half-finished designs. I’m not sure that’s what we’re still talking about, but I still meet her eyes.
“Guess that makes two of us.”
It turns out saving the garden means actually talking to people.
Who knew.
I’m starting to think Diana missed her calling, because she’s been doing it all afternoon with ease. Smiling, flipping her hair, laughing at jokes that aren’t funny while people happily sign their names on her clipboard.
Pat’s been complaining every step of the way.
“How did I get roped into this?”
“You said you wanted to help,” I remind him, not looking at Diana’s ass in her shorts as she walks ahead of us.
“I didn’t know that meant this door-to-door salesman hell.”
Diana knocks on another door, and an older lady peers out with a smile. Seconds later, they’re talking and laughing like they’ve known each other forever. She even offers Diana lemonade, which she graciously declines.
When the door closes, Diana turns, triumphant. “That’s twenty!”
Pat whistles loudly. “You got a gift, lady.”
She giggles, waving him off. “It’s just being friendly.”
“Friendly,” he repeats, nodding. “Right. Think it’d work if I tried?”
He straightens, puffs his chest out, bats his eyelashes, and in his best impression of Diana, says, “Hi, ma’am! Would you sign our petition to save the garden? I’d be so grateful.”
“Somehow it doesn’t have the same effect,” I say dryly.
When she’s occupied with the next taker, Pat gives me a look that tells me I’m gonna be annoyed before he even opens his mouth. “You like it when she does that.”
“What?”
“When she’s all sunshine and charm. Makes you soft.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Mhm, whatever you say.”
We’ve been walking the same cracked sidewalks for hours. Pat’s threatening to die if we don’t stop soon, my feet hurt, and Diana’s still going door to door like the heels on her feet aren’t even bothering her.
The last house on the street is less lively than the others, with a dipped porch and a cluttered yard. Diana only falters a moment before she knocks.
“Hi, sir! We’re collecting signatures to save the Rosehill Garden!”
The man who answers has a sunburnt neck covered in a shaggy beard, a miller can in his hand, and the kind of stare that makes my skin crawl, directed at Diana.
“Garden, huh? You girls from the paper or somethin’?” His eyes flick between us, never once landing on Pat.
“No, sir,” Diana says, shifting on her feet, but carrying on regardless. “It’s set to be demolished, but if we get enough signatures, the council will reconsider—”
He cuts her off with a grin full of stained teeth. “Pretty thing like you out beggin’ in the heat? You must want it bad.”
And there it is. I’m going to vomit.
Diana hesitates, glancing down. “Well… yes, your signature would be a big help.”
“Tell you what, sweetheart. You give me a peek under that blouse, I’ll sign whatever you want.” His eyes slide over to me, slow and deliberate. “Your little friend, too. I always did have a weakness for redheads.”
Pat scoffs. “Jesus, man. Let’s get outta here.”
Diana’s face goes pale. “That’s not—”
I don’t know what comes over me. But I am sick and tired of gross comments and asshole drunks thinking they can get away with saying whatever they want.
So I decide to call his bluff.
“Fine.” I shove the clipboard into Pat’s chest before either of them can stop me. He blinks, startled. “Lil.”
But I’m already tugging the straps of my tank top down, causing my breasts to bounce out. His smirk falls when a woman yells for him from inside the house.
“Go on,” I say, completely calm. “Take a look. I’m guessing your wife wouldn’t mind?” He looks back into the house with wide eyes, muttering something about crazy kids. Diana’s still as a statue, frozen with wide eyes and bright red cheeks.
When he slams the door, the sound makes her jump.
Pat bursts out laughing, Loud and unrestrained, breaking the spell. “Holy shit, Lil. You’re insane.”
I start down the porch steps, laughing along with him. “Guess he doesn’t have a thing for redheads after all.”
The entire walk back, I can feel her eyes on me, but she doesn’t say a word. Not even after Pat drives off, leaving us alone to gather our belongings. She stands a few feet away, arms crossed, with an unreadable expression.
I lean against the fountain, crossing my own arms to match. “You gonna tell me what your problem is, or did you want me to guess?”
Her head snaps up. “My problem?” She takes a breath like she’s trying to calm herself, but she still sounds angry. “You humiliated yourself, Lily!”
Is she serious right now? She’s mad about that? I can’t help but laugh, which in turn makes her frown deepen.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
“It’s not.” She uncrosses her arms, her heels crunching on the gravel as she stomps over. “It’s your body, Lily. That man was disgusting, and you… you gave him what he wanted!”
“I gave him what I wanted,” I shoot back.
“There’s a difference.” Her mouth opens, but I don’t give her the chance to say anything else.
“You think you’re better than me because you’d rather smile and flutter your eyelashes than make a creep uncomfortable?
Congratulations. You win the purity contest.”
“That’s not—”
“I don’t care what men think, Diana. And I don’t care what you think.”
Hurt flickers across her face, like she didn’t make me feel this way in the first place.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I mean every word.” I’m done with this conversation, done with her, but she moves before I can stomp away.
It’s so quick I almost don’t register it at first. The soft press of her lips against mine, warm and trembling. The sound from her throat before she pulls back.
We stare at each other. Her eyes wide, scared, realizing what she did. My hands hang midair, to pull her back into me or push her away, I’m unsure.
I don’t get the chance to find out.
Her breath shudders out, barely audible. “I have to go.”
“Di—”
But she’s already turning, running toward the road. The white of her blouse flashes under the streetlight, then she’s gone, swallowed by the darkness. And the garden is quiet again.
Like it never even happened.