Page 25 of Where You're Planted

“I gotta go,” Jack muttered into the phone. Then, “I’m not. I’m just busy.”

Tansy scoffed. At least she wasn’t the only one at whom he threw that irritating line.

Jack sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “Ah, come on. I’m not going to that.” A pause. “What do I need to be thanked for? Look, I’m late for a meeting.” Another pause. “Tell her I will come over as soon as things ease up around here. Now we’ve got this festival, and—it’s not an excuse.”

He gave Tansy a slow up-and-down glance, lingering somewhere near the crystal-studded letterBon her necklace, and adjusted the side of his waistband. She self-consciously pinched the charm and zipped it along the chain. His eyes followed the motion until they didn’t, cutting abruptly to hers, reading perhaps whether she’d caught his open staring. Feeling suddenly warm, Tansy twisted her hair up off her neck. Jack took a slow, deliberate breath. Then, he half turned, lowering his voice. “Iknowwhat Amy thinks. I’m not dodging anything.”

A few muffled exchanges later, he shoved his phone into his pocket, cleared his throat, and turned back around. Something stormy churned in his eyes. They were hazel, Tansy realized. Mostly green, ringed with brown and flecked with gold, and disconcertinglyprettyon such a rugged, thickly bearded face.

“Everything okay?” Tansy asked.

He frowned. “That was personal.”

“Oh-kay.”

He adjusted his hat, lifting and tugging it back down, and something in the tilt of his head and the press of his lips made her think he might apologize, but he simply gestured to the path and said, “Can we walk? I’ve been stuck in the office all afternoon.”

“A classic Aaron Sorkin walk-and-talk? Of course.”

His quizzical look said he had no idea what she was talking about. He rolled his neck and released a sigh, falling into step with her toward the park entrance.

“So,” she began, “do we have a theme for this festival?”

“Yeah. Spring.”

“Very imaginative.”

“People get what it is.”

“Maybe so. But what about pollinators? I’ve found all these books that could tie in, and we can have a craft table to make antennae, a face-painting station…” She trailed off as they approached the fountain, distracted by a flash of red at the entrance gate. Coming in from the parking lot was a group of teen girls in full, sparkly ball gowns—red, aqua, gold, hot pink, royal blue—trailed by photographers and assistants carrying lighting equipment.

“What is this?” she asked.

Jack sucked his teeth, impatient. “Quinceañera photos. It’s almost golden hour.”

“A procession of princesses!” It was sowhimsical, like a fairy tale right there in the gardens. Behind the princesses, a family trailed with another photographer. They were dressed in matching jeans and white button-downs, the mom visibly pregnant and the dad toting a toddler on his shoulders.

Jack pulled her away by the arm. Along with his usual scowl, the lines between his eyebrows were deeper than ever.

“What’s wrong with the princesses?” she asked, amused. “Wait, let me guess. Too colorful? You hate sparkles?”

He grunted, and she assumed that would be the extent of his response, but then he said, “It’s not just theprincesses. It’s the whole photography thing. No one watches where they step. They climb on things. Anything to get their shot. Although, yeah, the plastic sequins also end up all over the place.”

Right on cue, a photographer climbed onto a large rock and tugged a skinny tree branch down over the hot-pink princess to create a frame for the shot. Tansy winced at the strain he put on the small tree.

“They all cram into the formal garden because it’s got arches and pillars. Complain when things aren’t in bloom because it’s still winter and there’s been a damn hurricane.”

Tansy hummed. “You don’t like arches and pillars?”

“There’s a lot more to see here is all I’m saying. Even without everything in bloom.”

“Okay,” she said, stopping before a newly cleared area. “What should I see here?”

Jack clutched his hips. “You won’t see whatshouldbe here.”

“What does that mean?”

“We’re putting in afriendshipgarden.” He said it like a different f-word.

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