Page 22 of Living for Truth (Broken Shelves #2)

Hannah

T he minute I got home last night I looked up the meaning behind the flowers. It took some digging to find the purple flower, but I think it’s purple limonium.

According to Google, sunflowers symbolize loyalty, admiration, happiness, and longevity, which Morgan had already explained. The purple limonium has so many different meanings: purity, loyalty, success, love, devotion.

I would think this bouquet was just a pretty, aesthetically pleasing, thoughtful gift if it weren’t for the red carnations.

Everything I read about carnations was similar. A deep, dark red is meant to convey deep love and affection. A paler red is meant to declare “my heart aches for you” and admiration.

The carnations in the bouquet are, in my unprofessional opinion, somewhere between deep and pale, so I have no idea what they mean.

This bouquet could be a declaration of feelings or just a pretty combination, and I won’t know for sure unless I ask Morgan. But I don’t think I want to do that.

I got into work this morning and immediately debriefed Sage about the dinner last night, gushing about my necklace and lamenting over the awkward questions from my mom. We've been debating the meaning of the carnations for the last three hours in between tasks.

“Hannah, I swear to Satan I’m going to smack you upside the head.

He. Likes. You. That man is head-over-heels, weak-in-the-knees.

He came to a family dinner with your serpent of a mom and didn’t run for the hills!

When are you going to admit you have feelings for him, too?

” Sage emphasizes her points with a quick jab of her spoon in my direction.

I sigh, barely picking at my sandwich. I want to argue that she’s wrong—that it was a friendly gesture and a meaningless bouquet, but Morgan doesn’t do meaningless with flowers. If he were any other guy, it would be a lot easier to brush off.

I also don’t want to admit I have feelings for him—to Sage or to myself.

That’s scary and runs the risk of me getting my heart torn from my chest. What happens if we do this for real and he realizes I’m just a weird book nerd with depression and mountains of religious trauma?

What if he wants more kids? I can’t give him that. What if—

Sage claps her hands loudly, making me jump out of my thought spiral. “I can feel you thinking from over here. Care to voice your concerns out loud?”

“I’m just scared,” I admit, and Sage’s shoulders sag while her face morphs into a sad, understanding smile.

“I would be worried if you weren’t scared, babe. You’ve been through a lot, and there are things that could go wrong with Morgan. But… what if things go right? ”

“I guess you’re right. I’ll think about it.” It’s the most I can promise right now.

The rest of the day goes by quickly—thank goodness—and by the time I’m headed home, I have come to terms with the fact I have feelings for my fake boyfriend. I’ll ask him to come with me to Wes’s show in two weeks and give him a flower that says, “I like you.”

Is it a great plan? No.

But will it work? I hope so.

After I park in the driveway, I pull out my phone and call Elli.

“Hello?” she answers on the first ring, and some type of bass pounds in the background. She must be with Wes preparing for a show.

“Hey, Elli. How’s it going?”

“Great! How’re you doing? I hope you had a good birthday.

I have your present for you! And I’m excited to see you in two weeks.

” She sounds happy. Elli was always quiet and reserved as a kid, and I know she struggled with some undiagnosed depression as well.

Hearing her so happy makes me smile as much as it makes me jealous.

She left the church at pretty much the same time she moved to Texas, and she’s been living her life authentically ever since with her hot rockstar boyfriend.

I envy that kind of freedom.

“I’m excited to see you two again. I was just calling to see if that extra ticket you mentioned was still a possibility?”

Elli gasps, “YES. Oh my God, yes. Are you bringing a date?”

Even though she can’t see me, I cover my face in embarrassment. Emma was always the hopeless romantic one growing up, Elli and I just went along for the ride when she told us her dating stories. Now, it’s like we’re making up for lost time.

“I am. His name is Morgan, and we’re…” God, this is embarrassing. “We’re fake dating right now, but I want to make it not fake… if that makes sense.”

Elli’s silent for a minute before she squeals. “I love it. I can’t wait to hear the details. Emma will actually be there too, she’s coming to Utah because her family is having a big get-together for Andrew’s birthday. He would’ve been forty.”

That sobers us for a minute. Andrew was Emma’s brother who passed away almost seven years ago. I know it’s hard for Emma to come back because her family doesn’t treat her well, but she and Andrew were close. It makes sense she’d come back to memorialize him.

“Sounds like she’ll need a distraction. We should have a girls’ day before the concert!

We can go shopping and get ready together,” I suggest. Usually the thought of going clothing shopping with anyone but Sage would make me want to cry, but Elli and Emma are both plus sized like me, so shopping with them wouldn’t be tormenting.

“I love that idea. I’ll start a group chat tonight, and we can make a definitive plan!” Someone says something to Elli, and I hear her mumbled response. “I have to get going, but I’m excited! See you then!”

“Bye, Elli. See you soon.” I hang up, a giddy feeling bubbling in my stomach at the prospect of having some girl time with my favorite cousins.

With a family as big as ours, I’m not supposed to have favorites, but I don’t really care. Emma and Elli are the sisters I never had, and I’m glad we’re still in touch, even if it’s not as often as I like.

A knock on my window startles me, and I turn and see my mom’s scowling face glaring at me from the other side of the tinted glass.

I motion for her to step back so I can get out, and as soon as the door is open, she’s talking.

“Why are you just sitting out here in the driveway? Whatever, it doesn’t matter. My car’s in the shop, and Dad’s running late. I need you to come with me to pick up ice cream because the missionaries are coming over, and I have no dessert.”

I completely forgot they were having the missionaries over for dinner. Or maybe I didn't know? There’s every possibility someone canceled dinner for them, so my parents picked up the responsibility.

The last thing I want to do is suffer through a dinner with my family and the missionaries, but it’s too late to pretend to be busy.

“Alright. Let’s go.” I motion to the car, and she gets in. I notice Jake’s car is in the driveway and wonder why she isn’t forcing him to go or taking his car.

Luckily for me, the grocery store is only five minutes away, but it feels like hours with only the sound of the engine running and my mom tapping away on her phone.

When she finally speaks, it’s as we’re pulling into the parking spot. “One of the elders coming tonight is a late bloomer. He’s twenty-five.”

Fantastic. I know exactly where this is going. “Okay? Why does that matter?”

“I just wanted you to be prepared for someone closer to your age to be there. He’s very handsome.”

“I have a boyfriend, Mom.”

She makes a sound that’s something between a scoff and a grunt but waves me off and steps out of the car.

I dutifully follow her around and give her opinions on ice cream flavors, and then we’re back in my car and headed home. She’s never really been in my car, so her eyes glance around the random pieces of mail and receipts that I keep stashed in one of the cup holders.

Her eyes snag on the little pink gift card Sage gave me, and she picks it up.

“What’s this?” Her tone is sharp and accusatory, like I’ve been caught with drugs instead of a gift card.

“My birthday present from Sage.”

“Why is she giving you gift cards for a lingerie store? Are you fornicating with that man?”

“No.” I don’t owe her an explanation, and I want this conversation to be done with.

She tosses the gift card down like it burns her and picks up a receipt for a coffee shop I go to every once in a while. “ Coffee?! Alcohol, lingerie, and now this? What’s next, Hannah? Are you going to pierce your nose and start doing marijuana?”

I want to tell her you don’t do marijuana.

You smoke it, or you take it in edible form, but I don’t think she’d appreciate that.

I want to point out that those things are normal for well-adjusted adults to enjoy.

This five minute car ride has turned into an interrogation, and I’m sure if we didn’t have dinner to prepare for, she’d be scolding me for my life choices.

I don’t get a chance to respond because we pull into the driveway, and my dad is there, presumably with the missionaries, meaning she has to put on her mask of hospitality. “I don’t recognize you anymore,” she says as she exits my car.

I sit and stare out the window to get my bearings, wondering what in the hell just happened. A sense of foreboding sits like a lead weight in my stomach.

Something big and probably awful is going to happen, I just know it.