Page 150 of Tapped

The wedding itself was small. We had only our immediate families and close friends. If I had to wait two months for it to happen, at least it was exactly the way we wanted it.

“Evie!” I call for her again as I trudge up the stairs to our bedroom.

Nothing.

Until something catches my eye from the window.

My wife is deep in the backyard on her hands and knees, digging in the dirt by the back wall and guesthouse. It’s pretty much in the same location I shot her hitman before he climbed over it.

We’ve made a shit ton of memories in this house since the first day I stood on her doorstep and demanded she open the door to talk to me. Evie said she didn’t care where we lived, but she did want to make sure Chase didn’t have any more disruptions to his life. The asshole gave him enough.

We decided to stay and erase the bad memories with good ones.

I jog down the stairs and make my way through one of the glass doors that lead to the backyard oasis.

“What are you doing?” I demand.

She looks over her shoulder and frowns. “What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to be home until tonight.”

It’s her day off. Chase doesn’t get home from school for another hour.

I come to a stop beside her and stare down at my wife covered from head to toe in dirt. “Work is slow. I came home to take advantage of you and dirty you up. This is not what I had in mind.”

She stands and brushes her hands off on her filthy shorts before wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her forearm. “Dammit, Micah.”

I cross my arms and don’t look away from the plants, fertilizer, and mulch piled in a mess at our feet. “You have a team that swoops through here every Friday. They mow, weed, and trim no matter how many times I’ve told you I’ll do it. And now you’re out here with your hands in the dirt all by yourself? If you want to hurt my feelings, this’ll do it. Are you a closet gardener?”

She’s pissed or frustrated or both. “The one day you choose to come home early.”

“You’re mad that I’m home early?”

Her arms flop to her sides in frustration. “Yes. This was supposed to be a surprise. And it didn’t feel right to hire someone to do it. This is something I wanted to do by myself for you.”

I look around again, because I don’t get it. “Baby, I just sold my condo and it didn’t have one living thing in it besides the leftovers that got pushed to the back of my fridge. This backyard is a living haven and looks like it belongs in a magazine. Some of this shit is so well taken care of, it doesn’t even look real. It’s not lost on me why you don’t want me to take care of it—I’d probably kill it. Unless you buried someone under this bed who I hate, then I have no clue why you’d do this for me.”

“Everyone you hate is in prison or on their way. I might go to a lot of funerals, but this is not that. This is…” she tips her head looking for the right word, “more of a memorial garden, I guess.”

“Memorial?”

She bites her lip and hesitates before she explains. “Hydrangeas. Blue hydrangeas. At least, I hope they’ll stay blue. From my research, their color depends on the soil nutrients. I had no idea when I started this the color would be up to chance, but I’m doing my best.”

I look at the garden bed she obviously dug herself. The row of potted plants and tools and bags upon bags of supplies.

It finally clicks.

Hydrangeas.

She shifts to stand next to me, and we both look at the mess. “For them to grow in this region, they need shade. This is the only place in the yard that gets shade most of the day. I don’t know if they’ll live, but I’m going to try my best. Maybe the landscapers can help when it’s done. At least they’ll know what they’re doing.”

I turn to her. “You planted hydrangeas for me.”

She looks defeated. “When we were in Montana the first time, your mom explained that Hannah planted the ones in front of their house, and they remind her of your sister every time she looks at them. You moved in here for us. A new start in a new house for us would have made sense after what we’ve been through, but you agreed to stay for Chase. You never once balked because it was the best thing for him. I want to do a little something to make ithomefor you. I want you to look out the back of our house and see a little bit of your sister.”

I stare down at my wife in awe as my heart does that thing that surprises me when Evie or Chase do or say something that reminds me how fucking lucky I am that I found them on a wiretap.

But only for a second.

I grasp her dirty, sweaty face in my hands and take her mouth.

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