Page 100 of Weekends with You

The smile dropped from his face, and he reached for my elbow as we slowed to a stop, our roommates continuing toward a champagne tent ahead of us.

“Lucy,” he started, looking around as if the rest of his sentence might appear somewhere in the gardens. “I’m so, so sorry. I meant everything I said in that note. Though I think the pictures might have done me one better. But I need you to know how sorry I am.”

“I like you better when you’re direct,” I said, fighting a sigh. “And thank you, Henry. For the photos, and for the apology.”

“It was long overdue,” he said. “I know I got us into this mess.” His usually too-loud voice was reduced to a soft rumble that I could feel deep in my chest.

“It wasn’t just you,” I said. “I wasn’t exactly always rational, which only further complicated things for us. So I’m sorry, too, Henry, for my half of the mess.”

“Thanks, Luce.” His gentle smile washed over me like a wave. “And just so you know, I’m determined to get us out of this mess. If you’ll let me, that is.”

“The photos and the note were a good start,” I said, a tentative tone reaching the edges of my words. “And the gardens were a good follow-up.”

“So is that a yes?” The gold flecks in his eyes glittered in the setting sun, making it nearly impossible to look away. Though I did have to laugh at how he could go so quickly from adult man to eager, hopeful lad.

The flowers surrounding us were a constant reminder of all I’d learned at the Lotus over the years, and Renee would kill me if she knew I had tried to ignore it. While I was internalizing the constant heartache that walked in and out of our doors, the mourning, the apology flowers, and the canceled orders, I had also internalized the hope. The celebrations, the proposals, the thinking-of-yousand happy-nothing-days. The fact that the apology bouquets were not always groveling, but more often trying to fix things. Trying to use the beauty of flowers to mend. To heal. To reunite.

Which was exactly what Henry was doing today.

“It’s a start,” I conceded eventually, offering a slow smile. He seemed to exhale with his entire body, releasing the tensionin his broad shoulders, closing his eyes for a beat longer than a blink. “A slow one,” I added when a greediness returned to his gaze.

He raised his hands in surrender, releasing a light laugh into the breeze. “Whatever you want,” he said. “And I mean that, Luce. Anything.”

“You know what I really want?” I said, leaning in, watching anticipation dance in his eyes. He inhaled slowly through parted lips, so close we were nearly touching, so I decided to put him out of his misery. “A hot dog.”

“A hot dog,” he repeated, laughing from his chest this time and tilting his sharp jaw toward the sky. “She wants a hot dog. I bare my soul to her and all she wants from me is a hot dog.”

“You saidanything,” I said, laughing along myself. “Come on.” I tugged him gently by the forearm in the direction of our roommates, trying to ignore the excited chills dancing down my spine at the way his toned arm felt beneath my fingertips. “I need sustenance in the form of hot dogs and champagne if I’m to do any soul-baring myself.”

“Then how could I possibly say no?”

I had missed that cheeky grin. The single dimple. The mischief that turned his cheeks pink under his freckles. Slow was going to be harder than I thought.

As we rejoined our roommates, Raja was laying out a picnic blanket. All eight of us were armed with a drink and something to eat, prepared to spend the rest of the evening wasting away in the garden until it was time for the lanterns. Sundance Gardens didn’t always allow a picnic, but they made exceptions for their opening night. Food and drink vendors dotted the paths, a live band played covers somewhere under a canopy, and the entire garden came to life.

We laid our heads in each other’s laps, intertwined our limbs,watched the clouds pale against the darkening sky. As the sun escaped the city, fairy lights flicked on above the garden, lining the paths and the greenhouses and casting the flowers in a delicate glow. It didn’t matter that we couldn’t see stars. It was like we had them all floating right above our heads, winking down on us, illuminating warm smiles and telling eyes and stolen glances.

It didn’t take long for the entire garden to be blanketed in darkness and for the Lantern Festival to begin. Employees of the garden floated along the paths, distributing a few paper lanterns to each group along the way.

A voice sounded from hidden speakers, welcoming us to the festival and detailing its history. I tried hard to focus on the opening remarks instead of counting the number of lanterns we were given, though I already knew it was four. And we were eight. Which meant we’d be sending them up in pairs.

“Now, this works best if we spread out a bit,” the voice instructed over the speakers. “Give yourselves some space, find somewhere nice and quiet, perhaps a bit private if you so choose, make yourselves comfortable.”

“I’m comfortable right here,” Jan said, stretching out on the ground with his arms behind his head and closing his eyes.

“God, Jan, would it kill you to get involved just once?” Liv said, glaring in his direction. “Get up. We’re going to find a nice place and we’re going to write something nice to burn in this lantern because that is how you do a Warehouse Weekend.” She stood over him with her hands outstretched, ready to drag him from his place in the grass.

He moaned, accepting her hand and following her in the direction of a bubbling fountain. I kept my eyes locked on them, trying to quell my pounding heart.

“Fancy finding a spot of our own?” Henry whispered frombehind me, confirming what I had already known. When I turned to face him, I was caught off guard by the hopeful wrinkle between his eyebrows. For someone who usually looked terribly confident, he now looked more like a nervous child.

As I was looking around for a spot that was private enough per the instructions but not too secluded that I’d be tempted to do something I shouldn’t, he got to his feet, extending his hand in a much gentler way than Liv had to Jan a moment ago. “Come on,” he said. “I know just the place.”

“Bold claim for someone who’s never been here before,” I said, accepting his hand and letting him pull me to my feet.

“I did my research.” A broad smile stretched across his face, setting off a flurry in my stomach. We were still clasping each other’s hands, warm in the heavy summer air.

“Have fun, you two,” Raja said, tongue resting against the back of her teeth. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

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