“Can we adopt you? You’re nice. Nicer than my other so-called sisters,” she yells teasingly at the door.
“From what I’ve heard, I’d fit right in with Nancy’s brood.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. The best part is you never have to worry about being judged.” She squeezes my bicep as we walk inside. “We’ve pretty much seen and heard it all.”
I think of Jude’s confession, and how he seems to carry around so much shame despite the family he grew up with. They love him. I wish there was a way to help him see just how much.
Nancy’s spread contains an assortment of dips, crackers, cheese, processed meats, deli sandwiches from the local shop in town, and two kinds of pasta salad. A perfect spring lunch.
We commune around a large table with a colorful centerpiece, just six women enjoying small-town gossip and sisterhood. The way it should be.
“How much do we have left today?” Cortney sips her margarita.
“I’d like to get the hostas in the ground. You girls did such a good job on prepping the flower boxes, if you take care of the big garden, I can get to those tomorrow.”
“You sure you don’t need help?” Bree brushes the crumbs from her fingers over her plate.
Nancy’s smile turns wistful. “I don’t think so. I think if you move them to the back porch, I’d like to sit out there in the sun and work on them.”
Cortney touches her mom’s hand, something unspoken passing between them.
“My husband, Terrance, used to plant the flowers with me. I feel close to him when I’m tending the garden.”
Her words from the other day about gardening becoming more difficult come to mind. I swallow down a flash of heartache at her obvious loss.
I’ve never had to consider what it might be like to lose someone you loved so deeply because I’ve spent my life being betrayed by those who were supposed to love me most. I built walls to keep myself safe. Walls I didn’t even know I had until Jude started to help me tear them down.
“That’s really beautiful,” I say quietly.
“Our marriage really was,” Nancy replies. “He gave me so much. Every one of you is a piece of that.” Her gaze circles the table, stopping briefly on me.
I wonder what she sees. The woman determined to make a fresh start or a burden for one of her middle sons?
“I think Cortney should whip up another round of margaritas before someone starts crying,” Bree says, fanning her face.
“Speak for yourself,” Whitney chokes into a paper napkin as Juniper rubs her back. “It’s the hormones!”
We burst into laughter.
The door to Jude’s house creaks behind me and closes with a quiet thud. The clack of paws across the hardwood greets me, their excited panting obvious above the commotion of me removing my shoes.
It’s late afternoon. After finishing our lunch and another round of drinks, the girls and I spent the rest of the day planting and moving Nancy’s garden boxes. The smile on her face made the task more than worth it, but I could probably use a shower.
The gate clicks shut at my back. A light flickers from the rarely used living room. My investigation of the source is delayed by the group of enthusiastic dogs butting against me for pets.
Who am I to deny them?
They offer an excuse to slow down despite my eager body nagging me to find Jude. The muscles in my legs tense, preparing to run into his arms the second he appears in the doorway.
Nervous energy zips down my limbs. I straighten and fluff my fingers through my hair. It’s a mess, and no amount of prepping the dirty strands will fix it. If he’s shocked by a little sweat-head, then he isn’t the man I think he is.
Considering he’s the guy who screwed me after finding me caked in mud, I think I have a pretty good read on exactly who Jude Powell is.
I stop in the doorway and lean against it. “Hey.”
Even from across the room, his gaze feels like a physical caress. His stare roams lazily from head to toe, lingering in no particular place for too long.
“You’re done early.” He doesn’t usually finish up until closer to dinner, and not once in the last several weeks has he watched TV. I’m not even sure if he’s aware it’s on right now with the way he’s looking at me.