Page 42 of Love Grows

My tears fell. “And…” I felt so used and embarrassed. “And we had sex, for Christ’s sake, Steph.” My hands squeezed into fists. “And I have feel…”

Suddenly I couldn’t say anymore.

Steph’s eyes were filled with sadness and I wanted to dash it away. But I was too hurt to appease her level of pain, because it matched mine.

“Just leave,” I said in resignation, then it was as if all the effort in my body to remain upright went, and I sat on the stool on the other side of the bench.

Steph still had her hands at her chest. The colour of her face had changed from undercoat white to milk. “You’ll be short-staf?—”

“I don’t care.” I grit my teeth. “I’ll work it out. Just go. Please.” My voice cracked on the last word and I turned away. When I turned back, there was a neatly folded Dig It apron on the counter and Steph had gone.

So had my heart.

ChapterThirteen

Kangaroo Paw

(Anigozanthos x hybrid)

Native to Western Australia, they grow from underground plant shoots that produce long strappy dark green leaves. The flowers are tall stems that end in a furry claw-shaped flower which is where the plant gets its name as it resembles a kangaroo’s paw. Each “finger” is a tubular flower that is filled with nectar.There are two types of Kangaroo Paw: tall and short. The taller varieties are more adaptable to their surrounds and will tolerate a broader range of soil and climate types. They are the easiest to grow. The smaller varieties are better seen as short-lived perennials and are more suited to pots. They usually flower all year round, however they are not as tough and will require more care than their taller friends.

“We won!” Jules yelled from the counter as I wandered in. I didn’t know why I was there. I could have been at home with Tough, cuddling his wiry-haired body, but instead I’d closed the nursery and gone next door.

“Yippee,” I said morosely.

Jules pulled her head into her neck and raised an eyebrow. “Um…you okay?”

Pip suddenly appeared in my line of sight. “Come with me,” she said, authoritatively.

I balked, halfway between the cafe and the crystals. “I don’t want a reading or?—”

“Come with me. I just want to talk, and don’t diss the Tarot, by the way.”

Pip was a force when it came to digging into the human psyche and interrogating people, so I followed her over to the Tarot table.

“Sit. Spill.” Pip folded her arms over themselves and leaned forward. I sat like a recalcitrant teenager until Pip’s glare had me sitting up. For a twenty-nine-year-old woman, she had my forty-year-old self worked out.

“Steph isn’t Steph,” I started vaguely.

“Okay?”

“She’s Stephanie Walker and was doing some sketchy undercover thing that carries on the beliefs of her mother who was all about communities being rescued before big business rolled in and squashed everybody.” I took a deep breath.

“She said that?”

“No. Not those exact words.” I poked at a tiny loose crystal on the round table top. “She reckoned that she wasn’t going to give the okay to the board until a…study, I guess, had been done on how the warehouse would affect us all.”

“Sounds quite sensible and thorough,” Pip said, nodding.

“Pip! She lied to us!”

I couldn’t see how Pip didn’t understand, particularly because she was all in favour of revealing people's truths.

“Uh huh,” said Pip

“What? What’s ‘uh huh’ mean?” I answered belligerently.

“I’m not surprised, that’s all. She had a lot hidden when I did her reading.” Pip quickly pointed a finger at me. “Don’t say a word, Angel Whitlock.” Then she withdrew her finger and continued. “Do you remember your cards and the thoughts behind those cards from your reading?”

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