Page 14

Carson

“ L avender, huh?” Lucy smirks, scanning the plants I’ve placed on the counter.

My brows pull together in confusion. “Umm. Yeah…?”

She drags the six large pots closer to her, still giving me a knowing smirk.

“Plenty of people like lavender, Luce,” I respond, breaking eye contact and reaching for my wallet.

“That’s true,” she hums. “Didn’t know you loved it this much.” She smiles again as she reads my total on the screen in front of her. My best friend’s wife has quickly become a pain in my ass, just like the rest of these Beckett women.

“Bees are excellent pollinators for the vegetable garden. Bees love lavender. Therefore, I buy lavender.”

She simply smiles again, clearly not buying my explanation, which irritates me more than it should.

Does the purple plant remind me of a certain woman? Yes, now that she mentions it. Does she represent everything about it? Calming, sweet, and beautiful? Also yes. So what if I find the smell relaxing as well? There’s no law saying that only Wren can enjoy lavender.

“Need help out to the truck?” Lucy asks as I pile the pots back into the flat cart.

“No. I got it,” I mutter as I slide my sunglasses down over my eyes.

“Okay. Have a good one,” she calls, her tone teasing.

I lift a hand in half a wave over my shoulder and head back outside to my truck across the small paved lot.

My original plan with these plants was to line the front of the house, but now I feel like I have to place them in the backyard around the garden I started planting last week if I want to avoid more whispers from Lucy and anyone else who picks up on this little fact.

Fuck it. I’m putting them where I want them. They can all kiss my ass.

Peering out of my rearview mirror, the large, soft purple blooms seem to stare back at me as I start the truck. Their sight instantly makes me think of her. Maybe Lucy was right. Perhaps this is a bad idea, and I should take them back.

But taking them back would hurt my friend’s business. I’m not that big of a dick.

And ultimately, it would cause Lucy to ask more questions, and that’s worse than just letting people think what they’re gonna think.

Pulling out onto the road, I make my way back to Meadow Street, tuning out the nagging whispers in my head about the torment I’m putting myself through.

The hot summer sun sinks below the horizon as I finally finish planting the last bunch of lavender along the pathway to the front door.

I really should be working on the interior of the house, but I’d rather focus on my yard first so I can enjoy fresh fruits and vegetables this summer for both myself and the diner.

I’ve spent a lot of hours out here preparing the ground and clearing away all the debris that accumulated during the years of neglect this property received.

The only thing I left was the pink rose bush along the fence.

The tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, various peppers, and a variety of herbs were all planted last week in the raised beds.

I wasn’t able to start them from seeds this year, but next year, I’ll have time to begin the process early enough.

These plants already have a few vegetables growing on them, and I’m excited to taste them.

Nothing beats a homegrown vegetable, and I haven’t had one in years.

The thought of having fresh produce every summer adds another reason to my mental list of reasons that I’m glad I decided to keep this place instead of selling it.

I didn’t expect to feel attached to the house—not this soon, at least. I wanted to be done with everything related to my parents, but I guess sometimes good things can come from something terrible—my parents being a perfect example.

If they hadn’t been so bad, I probably wouldn’t have the family I have now.

Sure, Cal and I likely would have still been friends.

But I doubt I would have practically lived with his family if I hadn’t been doing everything I could to escape the house where my parents were constantly fighting and my dad was both mentally and physically attacking me whenever he had the chance.

After years of abuse, my mom finally left.

Packed a bag while I was at school one day, and when the bus dropped me off at home that evening, she was gone.

Dad said she left a note, but I didn’t care to read it.

If she didn’t care enough to take me with her or say it to my face, I didn’t have any interest in what she had to say on a fucking envelope.

Standing here now, surrounded by dirt, sweat, and possibility, I’m glad I decided to keep the house. The past won’t ever disappear, but maybe building something new on top of it will be even better than I had initially thought.

Life is full of shitty situations, one always following another.

But I’ve been trying to turn that around for myself.

First, by flipping this house and gutting all of the shit out of it that makes it my childhood home.

I’ve already torn up the floors and ordered new appliances.

And second, by doing a similar thing to the diner down the road.

I decided to rename it Front Porch Diner, a nod to the big front deck where folks can eat outside under the awning.

That, and because there’s nothing better than a summer night on the porch with good food and good company.

It’s still kind of shocking how fast everything happened with the diner. Paul gave me a hell of a deal on the place on one condition: always save him a seat.

There wasn’t much that needed to be done in terms of appearance or anything else, really. I was able to get things done pretty quickly and even hired a few staff members to help me get started.

Placing my empty water glass in the sink, I look up and spot someone walking down the road. Someone with a swaying blonde ponytail, little black shorts, and a small exercise top that has my eyes wandering to places they shouldn’t be.

Just as I begin to step away from the window in hopes of not being seen, her eyes lift over and spot me.

She stops moving, and a joyful smile spreads across her face as she lifts a hand and waves in my direction.

I wave back and start to walk away, but she somehow maintains control over me.

I pause mid-step as she points to the freshly planted purple flowers.

The excitement on her wide-eyed face as she shows me what I already know makes the hours I spent in the heat worthwhile.

I offer a smile back and nod as she claps her hands in approval, bouncing on the spot.

She then bends down and gently inhales a stem of the fragrant plant, her eyes fluttering shut. A calm demeanor takes over her expression as she exhales, her shoulders relaxing and her head tilting back in bliss.

God, she’s beautiful.

Yeah, I think I’m okay with my choice of plant and where I decided to place it.