Page 66 of Can't Help Falling in Love
“The therapist asked me to think about something I used to enjoy. Something from the past that really had nothing to do with your father. And I remembered I liked gardening. So I asked Maisie to pick me up some tulips. I’m going to plant them.”
“When?” Lexi’s heart was beating too fast. This was progress. This was reclaiming something and moving forward. Holy shit. This was hope.
“Now. Want to help?”
Lexi nodded, her throat uncomfortably tight.
“Do you want to eat first?” Gwen gestured to the eggs.
Lexi shook her head. “I got fired. From waitressing.” That was all she could say. How could she tell her mom, right now when Gwen was fully engaging in the moment, the reason why? That she’d been embarrassed to greet her pretend future mother-in-law who’d shown up with a woman who suited Will better than Lexi did? No.
“I’m sorry, honey. But you got the other job. You paid your tuition, right?”
They headed for the stairs. “Yes. To both. But it still sucks to be fired from a job I didn’t even like. One I couldn’t seem to get better at. It makes me feel like a failure.” Or like she didn’t deserve the things unfolding in her path. Side Tap. Will. Fuck. She really liked Will. And that was unexpected. Because she’d always promised herself she wouldn’t become her mother.
At the bottom of the stairs, Gwen touched Lexi’s arm, turned her so they were facing each other. “You’re the most resilient person I know, Alexandria. You’re not a failure.”
Lexi hugged her mom, smiled into her hair. “You say that now but I haven’t wrecked your flower beds yet.”
When Gwen laughed, the vise on Lexi’s heart loosened.
By the time the sun was setting in the sky, the cool air turningcold, Lexi and her mom had dirty hands and a front garden bed full of tulip bulbs.
“It’s going to look like a rainbow,” Lexi said.
Gwen sat back on her heels, surveying their work. It didn’t look like much, just a box of dark dirt, freshly watered. But they’d pulled all of the weeds, turned the dirt, smoothed it out, and planted in a literal rainbow shape. It was going to be amazing.
“It is. I can’t wait until spring.”
Lexi stared at Gwen, who’d started gathering up the tools and discarded bulb bags. It was the first time in a very, very long time she’d heard her mom say something about the future. That her mom had been anticipating something.
Before she could respond, a sleek and unfamiliar Mercedes pulled into their driveway. Will’s sisters exited the vehicle, Kyra opening the back passenger-side door.
Maddie smiled sheepishly. She was dressed in a pair of linen slacks and a dark-green cable-knit sweater. Her hair, the same color as Will’s, was pulled back from her elegant face in a twist.
“Hi. Sorry to just drop by,” Maddie said as Kyra rounded the back of the car, her arms full of plastic garment bags.
“We’re not, really. Will said he couldn’t reach you but you needed dresses so we raided our closets and brought them to you. Is this a bad time?”
Gwen, a trowel in one hand, dirt on her cheek, all but beamed at them. “It absolutely is not. I’m Gwen Danby, Lexi’s mom.”
“Oh, it’s wonderful to meet you,” Kyra said, both sisters walking down the little path beside the driveway.
“Yes, so nice to meet you. You were gardening. What did you plant?”
“Tulips,” Gwen replied.
“Love tulips. Perfect timing to get them in,” Maddie said.
Kyra tilted her head toward Maddie. “She loves gardening butnever has the time. Me, I like fake flowers because it seems cruel to buy or plant something I’m bound to kill.”
Lexi couldn’t process the moment. Will’s sisters were standing in her driveway with what were likely designer dresses, chatting about tulips and gardening.
“You should start with a succulent,” Gwen said, gathering up the rest of their things. “They’re easy to care for.”
Maddie laughed and picked up one of the shovels, pitching in like she wasn’t dressed for an elegant dinner party. “Don’t encourage her. She’s really bad at it. Good at other things but really, painfully bad at gardening.”
The three of them laughed and Lexi stared on, feeling like an observer.
