Page 47 of Where You're Planted

“It’s a long story.”

Amy gestured out the front windshield to the congested traffic. “We’ve got time.”

So he told her about Tansy’s meeting and Briar asking to go with him and the panic he’d felt about fifty yards from the library when he realized he didn’t know what to do with a kid. It had been quickly dispelled when Briar noticed the big live oak branch he’d braced with bolts—tree surgery—instead of cutting it off because he hadn’t been able to stomach hacking apart one more tree in the park. She’d asked all about it, genuinely curious.

“Does ImYourDadNow have YouTube videos for tree stuff?” Briar had asked. “That’s who my mom watches when she has to fix something.”

“Your mom’s pretty resourceful, huh?”

She’d replied matter-of-factly, “We’re independent women.”

“Next thing I know,” he told Amy, “we’re down in the creek, and Tansy finds us, and she’s pissed because she thinks Briar’s gonna get hurt or melt down or something. Supposedly, she’s been struggling since the storm—Briar—but I didn’t see any of that. Just this smart kid who’s kind of cautious until she’s sure. She’s observant and curious and brave. I thought Tansy was gonna nix the whole situation. But she stayed. And we all just…” He shrugged. “Hung out in the water and skipped rocks, and it was…perfect, Ames. I can’t explain it.”

“Sounds pretty nice.”

He nodded, dreading voicing the next part. For a long stretch, he focused on driving, on slow breaths through his nose, on unclenching his jaw.

“Briar asked me to carry her up the steps when we left,” he said after a while, eyes straight ahead. “And Tansy said…” He swallowed. “She said some people don’t really get Briar, I guess because she’s shy at first and interested in bugs and nature and stuff, but thatI’mgood with her.”

Amy hummed, and for some reason, that simple sound of surprise made Jack’s throat constrict and his sinuses burn. He hadn’t even confessed the next part yet, which had lit the fuse he’d spent all afternoon trying to put out.

“That meant something to you?” she observed.

He swallowed against the tightness. “Amy, I was thinking this kid is impossible not to get. Not to fucking…care about.”

He looked at her then, needing to see if this hit her as hard as it had him. Her eyebrows lifted, but she also smiled softly. Not shocked. Simply pleasantly surprised.

“And it’s not just Briar. You should have seen Tansy today. She was so different—quiet and sweet and sothere. She went from hating that creek to, I think, seeing what’s beautiful about it. I mean, she lit up over some fucking turtles.”

“You like her.”

Jack couldn’t respond to that. His jaw wouldn’t open to let him.

“It’s okay to like her,” Amy said. “And Briar.”

“Doesn’t feel okay,” he admitted, his voice a hoarse whisper. He blew out a ragged breath, cleared the emotion from his throat, and clenched his hands more tightly on the wheel. He didn’t understand where this was even coming from.

“What’s wrong with me?” He laughed, trying to break upsome of the tension in the quiet cab, but the question came out too raw and honest. He had to blink his vision clear.

“Oh, Jack,” she murmured. Then, “Have you thought about going back to therapy?”

He laughed harder this time. “Shit, I’m beyond your pep talks?”

She didn’t laugh. She studied her hands on her stomach. “I’m just worried I’m not the best person to help. Maybe I’m part of the problem.”

“If you are, then Iamfucked up.” He had to hit the brakes too hard again and threw his arm across her on instinct. He pulled it back, aware that, like usual, he’d overreacted. “Jesus,” he bit out, frustrated with himself. “That’s not how I want to be with you.”

“I know, and maybe I’m painting it with too broad a stroke.”

“You are.”

“Okay, fine. I just think…” She angled herself more fully toward him. “You had this great day with a kid who sounds a lot like you, actually, and her mom, who seems like she’d fight the whole world for her people and trusted you today with the most important one. And maybe you’ve had this sideways glimpse of what you gave up. And that hurts because…maybe you didn’thaveto give it up.”

“I didn’tgive it up. I didn’tchoose—”

“Not when Sophie filed for divorce. But after. God, you thought it was tough seeing me after my surgery, but you didn’t see yourself after she left.”

“Not remotely the same,” he insisted.

---