Page 18 of Where You're Planted

Amy’s eyes lit up. “A piece of work how?”

“Just—she’s unbelievably pushy. Has it in her head that I’ve got it in for her.”

“Do you?”

“I’m too busy with my own problems tocreateproblems for her.”

Amy squinted, skeptical.

“Just because I don’t think we should give upmoreresources when we’re already under strain doesn’t mean—”

Amy slurped her soup noisily, eyebrows arched.

“Okay. You aren’t there, so you don’t know.”

“Is this the one who interrupted the reopening?”

Jack grunted in confirmation. And to think, when Tansy had burst in that day, he’d felt oddlyrelievedto see her after four months of wondering how she and her kid had fared. He’d realized he probably owed her an apology for being short with her in the heat of the moment. But after her dismissive remarks at the reopening about the county caring more abouta bunch of trees and flowersthan books and her entitled demands the last few days, he’d since reneged on any wish to make amends. “Now she wants to do story times every damn day of the week. She asked for the gated garden, like she’d just take her pick and I’d hand it over.”

Amy offered a sound of sympathy but said, “I wouldn’t cross her. The way she put that politician on the spot, she’s like a folk hero. To be honest, I kind of admire her.”

“No. You’re on my side here. No one else is, so I’m playing the family card. You know, it’s like she forgot Omar and Irescuedher. I swear she’s actually holding it against me for some reason.”

“Why would she—Oh.”

“What?”

“Well…” Amy tilted her head. “You can be a little…”

Jack crossed his arms. “A little what?”

She laughed, pointing at his exact current posture. “Impatient. And snippy when you’re stressed.”

“If I wassnippy, it was because she was knee-deep in rapidly rising water but wanted to wait for the next boat.”

Amy threw her head back on a laugh. “Oh my God, I love her. Is she pretty?”

A memory of Tansy’s exposed thigh assaulted him. “She wears impractical shoes and these skirts that make no sense.”

Amy’s smile stretched even wider. “So she’s pretty.”

“She’s a pain in the ass.”

“Well, so am I, and I dare say, it’s why you love me so much.”

Jack huffed and leaned back in his chair, uncomfortably full of burnt pancakes. “You know, I came tonight because Omar guilt-tripped me for being too busy since the storm to come see y’all, but he’s not even here, and you barely managed to mix Bisquick and water, so—”

The humor drained from Amy’s face, and for a second, Jack worried he’d gone too far. Amy had always been able to take as good as she gave, but he was under so much pressure lately that maybe his prickliness, which she usually found amusing, was sharper than he realized. She took his plate and her bowl to the sink, and he muttered, “Sorry.”

“No, it’s not that.” She braced her hands on the sink and looked sidelong at him, drumming her fingers. “Omar and I…”

“You two aren’t having problems.” It was a statement. He refused to rework his life around the two most important people in it splitting up.

“No, it’s not that either. It’s actually the opposite of that.”

“What’s the opposite of having problems?”

She breathed in deeply, turned to face him, and said in a small, careful voice, “Having a baby.”

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