Page 86 of Butterfly Effect

Gardenia. Her favorite, like Indi said.

Terry sets his hands on his hips. “She’s a tough one. My daughter will never admit it, but she loves this place as much as her mother did.”

“You don’t?”

“Nah. Until I met her, I did lawns, hedging, some basic maintenance. She was the one who loved flowers and tropical foliage. Said they reminded her of home. She taught me everything I know about them.”

The name, Terra Bella, finally clicks. It’s their names together.

He tilts his head to the left, motioning for me to follow him.

“And you kept it up?”

He blows a breath through his nose.

“Whenever I want to feel close to my wife, I come here and do what she loved. It’s like having another day with her.”

The man is hopelessly devoted. Gabe deserves that, too. What I lack in qualifications and experience, I can make up for in determination. I’m getting really good at faking the relationship. Maybe she’ll accept the real thing.

“Watch this.” Terry crouches next to a potted fern and sweeps a finger across its fronds. They close at the contact. “Sensitive plants. Bela called them ‘touch-me-nots.’”

“Do they ever re-open?”

“Yes, but it takes time.” He glances across the space toward Gabe.

“I can be patient,” I say softly.

For her, I could be anything.

“Good,” he adds with a chuckle as he straightens. “You’re gonna have to be.”

He shows me around some more, and I help Terry move some larger trees, straighten askew pots, and set up a misting hose. An hour passes.

Gabe clips yellowing and browned leaves from a palm. A serene smile graces her face. She’s too lost in the practice to notice our approach.

“Bala?” Her dad interrupts. “It’ll be dark soon. Wanna go in?”

“In a minute.”

“I’m gonna make tea. Will you have some?”

Gabe hums mindlessly. “What kind?”

“Ginger with honey.”

“Sounds good.”

“What about you, Wade?”

“Sure, thank you.”

He claps a hand to my shoulder and winks as he leaves. The door snaps shut behind him.

“He’s gone,” she says, still collecting wilted and dead leaves. “You can stop looking at me like that now.”

“How am I looking at you, Freckles?”

“Like you feel sorry for me.”

---