Page 66 of He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

When I was a kid, I’d pick Penny’s irises and give them to my mom like I’d hunted them out. I was so proud. Eventually, once Penny figured out it was me, she put up a sign in her iris bed that said ‘Dax’s Garden’ (it’s still there now). I could pick them anytime I wanted to cheer up my mom, who never remarried after my dad passed. I was her entire world. Everything she did, she did for me. The least I could do was make her smile and flowers did that.

One of my favorite memories of my dad is him bringing home flowers after work every night. Sometimes it was just a single stem, other times, it was a more elaborate arrangement, but every time she swooned. They had the magic Jake was referring to earlier. Right until some irresponsible woman ripped his life away after drinking too much to be driving. Killed him instantly. She lived. That last part pissed me off for a long time.

Scattered amongst the wreckage were the roses Dad was bringing home for Mom that night. We saw that part on the local paper’s front page in the grocery store a couple of days later.Local businessman killed on way homewas the headline. I’ve never been able to forget it. When Mom saw it, she collapsed in the aisle, and for a moment, I thought I was going to lose both parents. It crushed her in a way I didn’t know was possible.

I’ve never brought her roses because of that, but I got roses tattooed on each arm – one with his initials and one with hers. Star-crossed lovers separated far too soon, memorialized on my skin to remind me what love is supposed to look like.

‘Hey, sweetie,’ she says, scrubbing a dish in the sink. ‘You get it all loaded?’

‘We did,’ I say, pulling the flowers from behind my back, just like I used to.

She beams.

‘My first smile of the day,’ I say, handing her the flowers. ‘It’s what makes this job worth it.’

‘You are a good man, Dax.’ She pats my chest. ‘Your father would be so proud of you.’

She turns from me, pulling a crystal vase from under her sink, filling it with water, and arranging the flowers to her liking.

‘Brynn’s got a watch party planned at Bible Club Friday night. She rented the whole place. You coming?’

Bible Club is a local bar, not a church group.

‘If I didn’t, she’d have my head.’

Mom nods, setting the vase of flowers on the counter beside her, admiring them before turning back to me.

‘I’m proud of you too, Dax. I never thought you’d end up so much like him when you had so little time with him. But you’re the spitting image of him. It both hurts and heals my heart.’

‘So far, it’s done me well. Can’t imagine having it any other way.’

She smiles. ‘Now, go, make some other people happy.’

I kiss her cheek. Without her, I wouldn’t be as grounded as I am. Growing up with one parent is hard, and I know it’s been even harder for her. The more I grew up, the more I looked like him. I know that’s exactly what she means when she says it hurts and heals her heart.

* * *

Later That Day…

I dropped Jake off at his apartment before heading back. I figured the last person I need with me when I drop these flowers to Hollyn is a guy who now knows too much.

I pull up to the curb in front of Penny Candy Records and park. As I grab the flowers I glance across the street at my dad’s old shop. The windows are covered in brown paper, a for-sale sign secured front and center between the glass and paper. A vision of what it once was flashes through my head. I can’t lose this place.

‘Whatare you doing here?’

I turn towards the voice slowly, facing Mercy timidly. Of course she’s here. If Hollyn left a note on my fridge telling me where she’d be today, I should have known she’d tell Mercy too. Those two know everything about one another.

She stares at the flowers in my hand before looking up at me. ‘Trying pretty hard to get into her panties, aren’t ya?’

‘That’s not what this is,’ I say. ‘Despite what you think, I don’t sleep with every woman I meet.’

‘Oh, really?’ She crosses her arms over her chest, clearly not planning on leaving soon. ‘Then you didn’t scare her off last night when you invited Sydney over for a good old-fashioned game of jamming the clam?’

I laugh out loud, shaking my head at her ridiculous words.

‘That was Hollyn’s idea. Yes, Sydney came over,’ I say. ‘But there was no clam jamming as I couldn’t get it u—’ I stop mid-word, horrified I’ve even talked this long.

Why the hell would I tell her this? She’s the one person who will tell Hollyn anything I say.

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