20. Emma

20

Emma

K ai crouched next to her in the garden, dark hair shining in the summer sunshine.

“Now what?”

“Now you put the seeds in the furrow. One at a time. Remember to give them space to grow.”

Most garden books advised planting close together and then thinning if everything actually sprouted, but Emma could never bring herself to kill the tiny plants just for growing too close together. She gave each seed the room that it needed. And then, when some of them inevitably failed to sprout or were devoured by snails as seedlings, she filled in the gaps later on. It was a patchy sort of succession planting, but it worked for her – and without killing any baby radishes.

“How much dirt on top?” Kai asked.

“Just enough to fill in the furrow. And then you can tamp it down a bit. Gently, like this.” She pressed her hand flat on the warm soil, relishing the feel of it.

He moved down the row, diligently planting the seeds one at a time.

“Do you want some more?” she asked when he finished.

He shrugged, wrinkling his nose. “Do I have to?”

“No, you don’t have to.”

“It’s kind of boring. No offense.”

“None taken. Why don’t you go throw the ball for Dio?”

“Okay!” He ran out of the garden, gate swinging open behind him.

“Kai, the gate!” she called after him – but he was already gone.

She stood and strode towards the chickens who were already tiptoeing towards the opening, their beady eyes fixed on her tomatoes.

“Nope! Absolutely not!” She shooed them away. “Out!”

She pocketed the seed packets and used her handy garden shears to harvest an overgrown eggplant. Exiting the garden and closing the gate behind her, she tossed it into the yard for the chickens.

“Have at it.”

“Hey Mom!” Kai ran past with Dio loping by his side. “Uncle Ethan’s here!”

“Thanks,” she called after him. He waved at her and disappeared into the orchard.

She found her brother in the driveway, walking down from the top after closing the gate.

“Hi, Ethan.” She gave him a hug, then peered into the truck and saw an empty car seat. “Where’s Teddy?”

“Fern’s got him.”

She blinked at him in surprise. “Oh…kay?”

“I’m just on my way back from the hardware store. Is Jun around?”

“No, she’s not here.”

“Where is she?”

“I’m not sure.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you’re not sure?”

Emma shrugged. “I mean she isn’t around.”

“What the hell, Em? I thought you were keeping track of her?”

“I don’t track her comings and goings.”

“You’re supposed to be looking out for her!”

“I gave her a place to stay. I never said I would keep tabs on her.”

“She could be anywhere!”

“What are you freaking out about? She has three jobs. She spends most of her time working. And when she’s not working, she’s usually home. Or next door, playing with Tara’s little girls. She’s a good kid.”

“Exactly!”

“What?”

“She’s a kid ! You should know where she is.”

“Just call her if you’re worried.”

“Yeah, like she ever answers.”

She usually did, in Emma’s experience, but this didn’t feel like the right time to bring that up.

“How am I supposed to keep her safe if I don’t even know where she is?” he demanded.

“It’s not like you ’ve been keeping tabs on her.”

“I just lost my wife, Em. I hardly know where I am half of the time.” He slumped against the door of his truck, looking exhausted.

“I know the feeling.”

He scoffed, and Emma’s temper flared. Her twin brother could get under her skin like no one else.

“What?” she snapped.

“You basically disappeared when we lost Adam.”

She stared at him, slack jawed. “My husband died.”

“Yeah. So did my wife. But I don’t have the luxury of hibernating for months like you did.”

“He was my rock ,” she said, her voice low and fierce. “He was my person .”

“And she was mine.”

“Don’t you dare compare him to her! She spent half of your marriage in rehab, Ethan! It’s not the same!”

“No,” he said quietly. “It’s not.”

Emma put a hand over her mouth, horrified by her outburst.

Ethan straightened and moved to open the door to his truck.

“I should go.”

“No, wait.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I miss him too.” His voice was quiet. “We were all grieving for Adam. We still are.”

“I’m sorry for what I said. And I’m sorry about Laurel. I do miss her, in spite of everything.”

Ethan settled against his truck again, starting off into the distance.

“Losing her felt like getting my heart ripped out of my chest. But there was also this feeling of… relief? Because at least it was the last time she would rip my heart out. The last time she would do that to Jun. And Teddy won’t have to grow up wondering if his mom will still be alive when he gets home from school. He won’t have to carry that, not like Jun did. But then the fact that I was even the littlest bit relieved made me feel even worse.”

Ethan took a ragged breath and pressed his hands to his eyes.

“There’s a part of me that’s glad she’s gone,” he said after a minute. He dropped his hands and gave her an imploring look. “What kind of sick son of a bitch is glad his wife died?”

“You’re not happy, Ethan.”

“No. I’m not.”

“And if you’re relieved, well… I can understand that.”

“I wanted her to get better. I needed her to get better.”

“And I want my husband back,” she said gently. “But we don’t always get what we want.”

“Do we get what we need?” His voice hitched on the poor attempt at a joke.

“Yeah. I think we do. I did, at least.”

“I need Juniper to be okay.”

“She is,” Emma assured him. “She’s as okay as anybody can be after a loss like that. She’s getting through it. She’s throwing all of her energy into work, which has got to be one of the healthiest coping mechanisms she could opt for.”

“I want to be there for her.”

“Focus on taking care of yourself. That way, when she’s ready to lean on you, you’ll be there. You’ll be steady.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He sighed and slumped against his truck, looking exhausted. “Maybe we could plan some family dinners or something?”

“That sounds good.” She leaned back against the truck’s door, standing shoulder to shoulder with her brother. “We need to stop living in the past.”

“What does that mean? What does it actually look like?”

“We can’t keep going in circles around people who aren’t here anymore. We need to get out and make some new memories.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We owe it to our kids to make some new memories. Good ones.”

“We’re in a good place for it.”

“I suppose we are.”

They lapsed into silence after that, lost in their own thoughts, staring out at the yard.

Emma’s eyes fixed on the tiny jaboticaba tree she had planted for Adam. Its narrow trunk was covered in flowers and green globes of unripe fruit. Against all odds, it had bloomed just months after she transplanted it. The strange, bizarre, beautiful plant was thriving.

Maybe they could too.