Page 66 of Dahlia Made A List

Even if I wished he could be Number Three.

Wyatt wasn’t as different from my exes as I’d imagined. In the end, he’d walked away just as they all had. Maia said I shouldn’t give up on love, but I think the love of a cute little puppy might have to sustain me.

My throat dried up and I pushed up off the bed and looked around for my next distraction. On a stand in front of the French doors sat a Peace Lily plant, withered and dried up and dead as dead could be.

After my last encounter with Ms. Lester, I’d hit Google and found the most unkillable plant I could. At the time, the idea of a Peace Lily, a peaceful plant to balance the chaos of my life, brought a smile to my lips.

Instead, the dead plant taunted me with its brittle, dead leaves..

With a sigh, I dragged myself to the plant stand, my eyes blurry with tears. Another failure. Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t have permission yet for a dog and a cat. If I couldn’t keep a plant alive, I probably had no business with a living, breathing animal. Picking up the pot, I headed for the front door.

Blazing sunlight dried the tears on my cheeks as I stepped outside and slowly made my way down the stairs.

Ms. Lester stood in front of her treasured azaleas, one hand on a watering hose, the other on her hip as she took in me and my dead lily. I turned my face away before I could meet her eyes. I’d break into a real crying fit if she said a word to me, I just knew I would. She would say how she knew all along I would kill the plant. How all I did was create chaos wherever I went.

“No cheerful good morning today?” she called with the usual bite in her voice.

I froze, clenching my eyes closed, sucked in a deep breath at the sound of her crossing the yard to come closer. No escape. “Morning, Ms. Lester.”

“See you’ve gone and done it again.” Her eyes fastened on the dead plant in my hands. “That poor Peace Lily. You should stop growing things if you’re just gonna kill them all. Maybe next time you’re out shopping for plants, pick up an artificial arrangement.”

Blood rushed through my veins and my jaw quivered. Anger and pain took turns lashing my insides. “You think I want to kill them, Ms. Lester?” My voice bounced off the side of the house, loud and harsh. “That I wouldn’t give just about anything to prove you wrong? I searched and searched the Internet and this plant was supposed to be easy. They said make sure it gets some sunlight, so I bought the prettiest wrought iron plant stand and plopped this sucker right in front of the French doors. They said make sure the plant gets water. So I watered it twice a day, every day, without fail. I set an alarm on my phone so I wouldn’t forget! I tried my best!”

My shoulders shook, the pain I’d been fighting all day battering down my defenses. “I tried as hard as I could.”

When she didn’t say anything, I shifted the plant to my hip and wiped frantically at my wet face. Sucked in air, though it felt like I couldn’t get enough. Maybe I should sit on the stairs and put my head between my knees like they did in the movies. Why wouldn’t these stupid tears go away? Why did they have to come now? Now, with my mean, mean neighbor staring me down and making me feel stupid and small and terrible and worthless.

I blew out a long breath, slowly inhaled and finally the tightness in my chest relented. I breathed again and the tears eased off. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I looked up to find the old woman smiling down at me. The papery skin of her cheeks curved up and her eyes glowed with kindness.

“Well, Dahlia. You did just about everything wrong for that poor plant.” She nodded at the dried up leaves. “You kept the poor thing in direct sunlight when all it needed was a bright spot. You watered it twice a day when all you needed to do was water it weekly or when its leaves drooped.” She picked the pot from my grasp. “Plants’ll tell you what they need if you pay attention.”

“Obviously I don’t know enough. You were right from the start. I have no business trying to grow a plant. How about I listen this time and quit trying?”

She tossed the dead plant into the azalea bed, in the back where it wouldn’t be seen. “Not telling you so you can quit. This is called a lesson. Wipe your face and pay attention, why don’t you?”

Cheerfulvoicesfilledthekitchen of Minerva’s home. Every seat at the long farmhouse table filled with my friends. Bouncing up on my tiptoes, I took in the familiar faces. “This is amazing!”

Cillian looked up from the plate in front of him. “Too soon to judge, Dahlia.” He poked a long string green bean like I’d served him a plate of gummy worms for dinner. “This is the Signature Dish you’ve been carrying on about? Green beans?”

My gaze darted from face to face. No one had dug into their plate yet. Were they waiting for me to join them at the table? Or maybe the food didn’t look right?

Number Eight,Host a Dinner Party, could be at risk of ending before it even began. Ms. Minerva’s kindness in letting me host the party in her home might be wasted. I’d asked weeks ago, my place too small to accommodate more than a couple of people. She’d said yes the night of my first kiss with Wyatt.

“It’s not just green beans, Cillian,” I said to the man. “It’s oven-fried pork chops and sweet potatoes with shallots and fancy long string beans, and it all tastes really good. Promise!”

“I don’t doubt it tastes nice. I just think you made a big fuss over pork chops. I mean, they’re pork chops. Not like you’re serving up beef tenderloin or something.”

I’d probably annihilate beef tenderloin, but I didn’t say so out loud. I may have conquered pork chops, but I didn’t exactly have a good track record with anything else.

I opened my mouth to coax him into trying the sweet potatoes when Minerva chimed in. “Cillian, you hoodlum. When you can pull together a meal for a dozen people, we’ll pay attention to what you have to say. Until then, why don’t you take a bite and shush.”

Minerva took up a forkful of potatoes, chewing with a smile and nodding her approval. “Well done, Dahlia. Delicious.”

Conversations resumed around the table as everyone dug into their food, muttering their delight and approval and my stomach fluttered. A wide grin split my lips. All these people were eating a meal I’d prepared for them, at a dinner to celebrate my list.

My favorite people.

All except one. The one I’d give just about anything to have here right now.

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