Page 54 of A Lot Like Lavender

She nods, obviously nervous about how I’ll respond.

She and Dinah have been brainstorming plans for a shop here on the property to sell lavender and alpaca fur merchandise, Emory’s pet clothing line, and wine slushies. I learned all of this after theyreset—as Jackson called it—and informed us that they’d also be immediately beginning on a business plan for a small plot of rental cabins, focused on creating a romantic escape outside the city for tourists. I love the idea and have some of my own but know we’ll haveto have a few more conversations before I work up the courage to actually share them with her.

I take another small sip of the wine and focus on all the flavors. It’s good. Crisp, not too sweet, and the lavender creates a subtle surprise that’s fresh but not overpowering. “I love it, Red.”

“You do?” She’s back to her tiptoes, clasping her hands in front of her chest.

“Yeah, it’s really good.”

She throws her arms around my neck and jumps up and down. “I couldn’t wait for you to try it, Jordan. I think it could work. I sold the land, so that’s a disaster, but I’ll figure it out.”

It’s not a disaster unless she really thinks it is, but I’m not ready, just yet, to tell her exactly why her dreams are not as far off as she might believe. And that maybe I can help her with them. If she’ll allow me.

“But the shop and the cabins… It’s the first time I’ve been really and truly excited for something like this in so long. Chloe also came up with the most amazing lavender brownie recipe. I’m gonna give them out at the Fifth-Grade Festival. And we’re going to sell alpaca fur stuffies in the shape of bunnies. Oh, and Trey is bringing some sort of portable miniature golf course to set up on the front lawn so the kids can play next to the petting zoo area.”

“You had a busy day, huh?” I don’t hold back my grin. I love how excited she is. How alive she is. I love being the one that gets her evening debriefs. “Are you hungry? And where’s the kiddo? I could whip us all up some dinner and then maybe help you with all your big plans.”

“I took Molly to Theo’s for a movie night…”

“Are there chaperones? Hand holding? Have you ever run a background check on that kid?”

She laughs—clearly unaware of how serious I am—then looks up at me, seemingly shy. “I thought you and I could take the night off from projects and PTA and… everything and just hang out. On our own.”

“So that’s what the kids are calling it these days.”

Slapping my chest, she rolls her eyes. “I’m serious.”

“Oh, I am, too.” I pull her palm to my lips and place a kiss there before returning it to my chest. “Will there be chaperones? Hand holding? Have you run a background check on me?”

Emory’s fingers do a dance against my heart beat. “If you don’t want to stay, just say so.”

“No, Red. I do. I really do.”

“It’s just that tomorrow is…” She trails off. As if maybe I’ve somehow forgotten the anniversary of James’ death.

I wonder if these anniversaries will ever get easier or if they’ll only grow exponentially harder, the closer I get to Emory. The more I want to pursue my friend’s wife for myself. The more I want to raise his child. To celebrate her milestones. To call this life he had for such a short time, my own.

“What do you need from me?”

Emory sighs, meeting my eyes with hers and giving me an achingly sad smile. “I don’t know. I wish I could say I want to spend the day together, but I’m sorry. I just don’t know if…”

“Hey, don’t do that.” I squeeze her hand, kissing her forehead again and letting my lips stay there against her skin for a few breaths. “I want to help, not hurt, remember? If you need me, I’m here. If you need space, I get that, too.”

“Do you do anything? On the day?”

“Um, yeah, I do.” Running a hand through my hair, Iwonder how much of my plans for tomorrow I should share with her. “I go for a bike ride, and I get a new tattoo.”

“Every year?”

I sigh, mentally picturing what each piece of art has meant to me. “Every year.”

“James always talked about getting a tattoo. He always joked that he’d get?—”

“Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica. Yeah, I remember.”

Emory’s surprised grin has to be my favorite. It’s so rare and so vibrant, I want to kiss it and see what her smile would look like then.

“You did it?” She skims my body up and down, calculating the pieces of skin and tattoos she’s seen and inspected at length. “Where?”