Chapter 9
I drag the brush in a slow curve, the yellow paint catching the light as I paint another sunflower’s petals. My hand’s steady and the technique is familiar after painting so many flowers. The fence drinks up the color, standing out bright against the wooden panels.
I shift on my knees. It may be uncomfortable, but this?
This is my happy place.
The whole stretch of fence looks like it belongs in a dream. Flowers mixed with bees and ladybugs and butterflies. I even hid a little snake slithering near the bottom as a special surprise for Diana.
A drop of paint splatters onto my leg, but I leave it. I’m already covered in it anyway, yellow, red, blue, they mix right in with the rest of the freckles covering my pale skin.
It’s quiet except for the cicadas and the sound of my humming a Fleetwood Mac song I heard this morning.
It’s peace.
I lean back, squinting at the next flower, trying to decide if it’s even. The sun’s already high and bright, hot enough that the paint dries quickly.
Not to pat myself on the back or anything, but the garden is starting to look better than it ever has. The new donated benches. The flowers we’ve placed perfectly. The tiny sprigs of green sprouting from the ground will eventually become trees.
I can almost imagine what it’ll be when we’re done.
Kids running around, people laughing, choosing to spend their time here in this place that Diana and I have put our hearts into.
A burst of laughter cuts through the air. Small, bright. I turn to watch two kids burst through the gate, chasing each other. They nearly trip over the tool bucket, and I open my mouth to say something…
“Please, don’t get hurt on my watch!” Diana steps through the gate, shaking her head but smiling anyway. She’s wearing a light blue dress, the same color as her eyes, and if I thought the garden looked good before…
“They’ve been dying to see it now that we’re almost finished,” she says, gesturing toward the fence. “Sorry if they’re in your way.”
I shake my head, waving her off with a paintbrush still in my hand. “They’re fine.”
Clara stops in front of the fence, frowning at my work. “You missed a spot.”
I glance down, and sure enough, there is a patch of bare wood at the bottom. “Hm, I guess I did. Good eye.”
Clara beams.
“She takes her art very seriously,” Diana adds, hands resting on her hips, amusement softening her features. “You should see her coloring books.” I give Diana a small smile in acknowledgement, and she meets my eyes, too brief to mean anything, too long to mean nothing.
Then she looks away, smoothing her dress. “It looks amazing, Lily.”
“It’s coming together.”
“It’s more than that,” she says, sounding a little breathless for some reason. “It’s beautiful.”
Before I can respond, Clara shouts, “Look! A butterfly!”
The moment ends as both kids take off and Diana follows them, shouting to be careful.
I watch her go, light blue dress swaying among the green of the grass and the rainbow of flowers we’ve planted.
I don’t get the chance to tell her that she’s more beautiful than any painting could ever be.
When we finish for the day, Clara and I are covered head to toe in paint. My clothes are streaked green and yellow, there’s half of a pink handprint on her cheek, and the two of us can’t stop laughing.
Tommy and Diana are no better, covered in dirt from planting the last of the flowers.
The whole group walks down Main Street toward the diner, all smiles and laughs. Clara skips ahead, her ponytail bouncing, talking about how the garden needs a tree swing.
“It would be perfect!” she says. “And we promise we’ll take turns.”
“Are we sure that’s safe?” Tommy asks, like the sensible kid he is.
“Are you scared you’ll fall off?” Clara fires back, all attitude.
He kicks at a rock. “No!”
I grin, brushing my hands on my cutoff shorts even though the paint’s already dry there. “I think a tree swing’s a great idea. We’ll add it to the list.”
Diana glances over at me, smiling that quiet smile that says she’s happy with me for some reason.
The door jingles as we push inside the diner, my stomach rumbling at the smell of food. Clara and Tommy rush to claim a booth by the window, shoving each other over who gets the window seat, before Diana suggests they sit across from each other.
We order burgers, fries, and milkshakes all around.
The kids chatter nonstop about butterflies and swings and suggestions, “maybe a pond with fish!” Diana and I keep catching each other’s eyes across the table, laughing over the loud conversations.
The world doesn’t feel like such a bad place right now, sitting here with them. I can almost let myself pretend that we’re a family, that Diana is my…
When the food comes, Clara dips her fries in her milkshake and dares Tommy to do it too. He does it, followed by a disgusted face that makes all of us laugh too loud.
We don’t hear the new group arrive, but I happen to look up as they start toward us, Scott Whitmore leading the pack.
Blond hair perfect, blue eyes shining, collar crisp, the whole American dream poster boy routine down. His buddies trail behind him, loud and cocky, their girlfriends giggling at something I would bet anything isn’t that funny.
Diana notices him too, the moment I do. I still don’t know what happened between them, she hasn’t wanted to talk about it, or him. But the second she sees him, her shoulders stiffen, and the easy smile she’d been wearing all day falls away like it was never there.
“Diana!” Scott calls, already walking over, with that handsome grin plastered on his face. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Hi, Scott.”
He leans down and kisses her cheek, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Even his cologne smells expensive. And way too strong. “Haven’t seen you much lately.”
“I’ve been meaning to call, but we’ve been busy,” she says softly.
“With what?” His eyes slide toward me, and I already know what’s coming. “Oh, hey, Linda. Long time no see.”
I actually do roll my eyes this time. “It’s Lily.”
“Right, sure,” he says, waving it off. He looks back at Diana. “Anyway, Bobby’s throwing a party at the lake tonight. Everybody’s gonna be there. You coming?”
“I don’t think I can.”
“C’mon, don’t be boring. It’s not a party without you, D.”
Across from me, Clara’s sitting bolt upright, eyes huge, a fry frozen halfway to her mouth, staring at Scott in awe. Diana tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, then looks at me, her mind made up.
“I said I can’t,” she repeats, firm this time. “I already have plans.”
Scott blinks. “Plans? Cancel them. What could be better than going to Bobby’s?”
She doesn’t look away from me. “I’m hanging out with my best friend.”
It takes me a second to process that. My best friend. I can’t remember the last time she said those words. Scott’s face twitches between confusion and disbelief. “Your… best friend?”
“Lily.”
At first, nobody says anything. Scott looks between us with barely concealed disgust all over his face, but then he forces a laugh that doesn’t quite reach the charm he’s going for.
“Right. Well. You change your mind, you know where we’ll be.” He pats her shoulder like she’s a child and struts back to his friends, his buddies all grinning like they were lost without him.
Diana lets out a breath like that was utterly exhausting, even though she’s supposed to be in love with him. Beside her, Clara sighs. “He’s dreamy.”
I snort. “He’s dumb.”
“He is not,” she says, scandalized. “He’s perfect. Diana is so lucky.”
“Sure, if you like guys who forget people’s names and think girls exist for decoration.”
“And who takes longer to get ready than you do,” Tommy adds, clearly put out over Clara’s little crush.
Diana hides a smile behind her milkshake straw. “Be nice,” she tries, but her voice is filled with barely contained amusement.
I shrug. “Just saying.”
The kids go back to arguing about Scott, but I can still feel Diana’s gaze on me, soft and sure. “Best friends, huh?”
She blushes, the smile on her face way too mushy. “Mhm. Forever.”
“Huh,” I say, playing it cool. No one has to know that I reach across the table and let my fingers brush hers behind the basket of fries.
No one has to know that she doesn’t pull away.
Outside, the sky is dusky, and the summer heat is slipping into something more tolerable. The kids walk a few steps ahead, talking excitedly about whatever kids talk about. Diana’s close enough that her arm brushes mine.
I look around, making sure there isn’t anyone around before I reach out to take her hand, and swing it between us, lazy and easy as we walk. “You know, there will be a lot of people at that party tonight.”
Her mouth quirks up, already catching on. “Yeah?”
“Could probably get the rest of the signatures we need.”
She squeezes my hand, that blue-eyed grin lighting up my heart in the only way she can manage. “Then I guess we’re going.”