Page 123 of The Promise Of You

That’s the scary part of being in a relationship. You need to be there for people.

Can I do that for her?

And then I read her text over, and wonder—can she do that for me? Be that for me?

I’m bummed that she won’t be with me tonight, but I’m not in a rush to bring her to the farm as my girlfriend. Certainly not in a rush to be ribbed by my brothers about it.

But I’m pissed at her text message. Sorry, can’t make it tonight. That’s it? No explanation?

What’s going on?

Am I going too fast? Do I want something she doesn’t?

Is it the meeting-the-parents thing that’s freaking her out?

Since it’s just me tonight, I head straight to the farm without stopping in town.

Mom’s day lilies are in full bloom. I remember when we planted those together, years and years ago. Only flower name I know are those, and for a reason. Dad dug up the border, Mom had gotten the plants from Ms. Angela who was dividing them, and we all got to plant our portion of the driveway, along a string pulled straight. I realized many years later that this was the first time we were planting something just because it was going to be beautiful, not because it would yield anything that we could sell or barter.

It meant a lot to her and Dad, and their pride rubbed off on us. We were all happy, though we didn’t quite know why. We just were. I know now, it was because they felt they were doing well enough money-wise that they could raise five kids, on a farm, and spend time and energy on planting flowers just because they were beautiful.

Why they had five kids, I don’t know. Dad once said, “Couldn’t keep my hands off her,” and we all covered our ears and yelled at them to stop talking.

But now I get it. I totally get it.

So despite Chloe bailing on me, despite the fact I’m going to spend twenty-four hours without her and that seems like a fucking long time, I’m in a great mood when I pull up to the farm behind a familiar jeep.

“Hey, Ems,” I say as Emma climbs into her car. She does everyone’s books in Emerald Creek, so it’s no surprise to see her here too. I’m glad I talked Chloe into hiring her.

She gives me a small wave and drives away.

I find Mom and Dad at the dining room table, a bunch of papers spread in front of them.

They looked surprised to see me and exchange a glance. I go to the fridge and grab a soda. “We’re on for dinner, right?”

“Yeah… yeah-yeah-yeah. We weren’t expecting you this early, is all. Is your friend joining us later?” Mom asks, seeming tense.

“Chloe apologizes, but she can’t make it.” I sit at the end of the table. Mom looks briefly relieved. That’s weird, she loves to have company.

Dad looks worried.

“What’s up?” I ask.

Dad clears his throat. “Son, d’you have any timeframe on the restaurant situation?”

The restaurant situation is my situation. My parents insisted on lending me part of what I needed to start the pub because interest rates at the time were high, and they wanted to help. At the beginning, they checked in on me to make sure that everything was going well, but they quickly found I knew what I was doing, and I was doing great. “What’s this about?”

“Well, we’re worried—”

“Is this coming from Emma?” Emma knows the rent is late. But she wouldn’t mention that, would she?

Mom looks guilty. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

Fucking Emma. “I can’t believe you guys. After the shit she pulled with Chris and Alex?” Just a few months ago, Emma tried to orchestrate a breakup between the two using confidential business information, and that did not go well. For anyone, including Emma.

We’ve since sorted it out, and it’s water under the bridge, because that’s what you do in a small town. You can’t hold grudges because you don’t know who you might need. But it doesn’t mean we forget. “Chloe is working hard on bringing the restaurant to where it needs to be. And I know she’ll be successful.”

“But, honey, I thought you were going to take the space back from Kevin Murphy.”

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