12. Blooms

Jillian

Lying in bed,scrolling through the family text chain with dozens of pictures and videos Mom has sent since she began her gardening projects, seeing just how happy she is, it makes me miss her but not in a summer camp kind of way; in a way that lends hope to the fact that being benched for a year isn't the end of the world. It's what I do this year that matters most.

There's also a part of me that questions if my decision to pass on Montana was a mistake. It wasn't shocking, per se, to see Hudson show up here and Mom staying back in Central New York, but it was more a thought-inducing revelation. If Mom can have her own space, peace, time—whatever you may call it—then it makes me feel less guilty or selfish about wanting that, too. Kind of a Harts-won't-break-when-they're-apart discovery.

We're all happy at the same time. I'm no longer a virgin and have quickly realized that my theory is correct—sex and the desire for that feeling with a partner, and not solo, is some kind of voodoo shit, for sure. I can see how it may fool people who have been manipulated by society and its norms that you need a man to truly be happy. I'm living proof that it's not.

The man who punched my V-card is ever present, right there within arms' reach, and I'm not pining over him. I'm not lying in bed, wishing he were next to me. I mean, yeah, I'd like him facedown between my legs again, but that's a physical desire. I may not be the most experienced girl in the world or have been in love myself, but I've seen the good and the bad caused by the diluted view some have about it. I would take an orgasm over a man bringing me flowers any day. I can buy my own damn flowers, but I am not flexible enough to do what Nour Uyar did with his tongue to myself.

I'm no different after having a real dick inside me. I'm me with a new life experience under my belt. More knowledge and insight. I'm Dorothy at the Emerald Castle, having just unveiled the Wizard. But, unlike her, I'm not surprised that I'm not all twisted up about my discovery. I'm further liberated.

Knowledge truly is power.

Mom started a new chapter and is living a new experience. She's in her home, in an empty nest situation, and she's happy, thriving, growing … flowers and vegetables, something she always wanted to do.

Rome has his true loves—baseball and, even though it's new-ish, it's clear CeCe and he are the real deal. The fact they met at a time in life when they had already attained their goals and their dreams had been realized, they came to the table whole people and have already overcome some really bad shit together. I know they're more than capable of combating anything that comes their way. Hell, Rome's even mentioned marriage to Nour, so I know it will happen and have no doubt they will work together as partners and have a beautiful life.

Hudson has made amazing friends in his football circle, no doubt happily tearing through the ladies, but with a gentle smile and leaving behind as little carnage as possible. Out of all three of us, he's the one whose heart I worry about the most.

From the other end of the RV, I hear, "Fucking kidding me." And then, "That piece of shit doesn't deserve a girl like that."

"You okay?" I ask, sitting up.

"I'm fine. All good."

"Obviously not."

"Nothing to lose sleep over. Sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep."

"I wasn't asleep and?—"

"No, fuck no," he hisses.

"It's like watching a show with subtitles but backward, which is arguably worse."

"And this is like watching a fucking montage of our parents beginning, knowing how it ends."

"Okay, I'm hooked. Spill."

He sits up. "Riley Brooks' boyfriend."

"The guy you called a tool?"

"Yeah. He proposed, she said yes, and he doesn't deserve her."

"And you like her?" I guess.

"Fucking adore her, but not in the wanna fuck her way."

"Okay, so what do you want to do with her?"

"Put her on a shelf high enough that some little shit's not going to break her."

"Oh my God, you like her like her."

"Just said that, Jillian," he grumbles.

"No, you said adore. But you really mean?—"

"Never gonna happen."

"Why?"

"Aside from the fact her mom's a Ross and part of that whole owner group?"

"Aside from that."

"Might have met her sister, Lauren, at a bar far the fuck away from Blue Valley, and neither of us knew who the other was."

"And you fucked."

He repeats, "And we fucked."

"Did she want more?"

"Nah, she's a cool chick. I was a revenge fuck. Her ex started seeing someone and …" He stops. "Doesn't matter. We're cool. No one knows, but I was fucking terrified, and I'm not doing that shit again."

"What if it was something more?"

"It's not. I've had plenty of women I should have fallen head-over-heels for, but it's just not there, Jillian, you know? Like, I think he broke something on the inside, too, that didn't heal, like a nose."

"No, I don't believe that." I climb out of my little bunk and make my way back to him.

"You don't believe in love." He forces out a laugh as I lie down beside him and grab his hand like he used to do to me when things were bad.

"I do. I just don't believe we all have to have it to be happy, and I don't believe it's something you search for. I think it's something you should allow yourself to fall into, if and only if it's the real deal."

"He's just like him. I see it coming."

I squeeze his hand. "How so?"

"Wasn't good enough to be drafted to play college ball; walked on, didn't play unless 'Cuse was ahead by enough in the last couple minutes that it wouldn't fuck up the win. More than likely kept on as a bench, riding a GPA boost."

"Not so much like Dad then."

"Except the part he's an insufferable dick when he drinks."

"You're friends, you and Riley, right?"

He nods.

"Tell her your concerns."

"Not my place."

"Then tell her it's not your place, but maybe show some vulnerability in telling her you see the parts of him you know he's hiding from her."

"Yeah, maybe."

After Hudson is snoring softlyacross the room, I fluff my pillow and set my phone on the shelf. I am about to fall asleep when I get an alert from the app that I was sure I snoozed for a week to allow for the feels to set in, if they were going to.

I reach up, see the notification, and tap to open it.

SportsManSam: Hear me out before you block me again. You and I are in the same boat. Both of us testing a theory by using this app. First RBI in my career after the nip selfie. First grand slam after fucking the unicorn. Tonight, I hit for shit because 1 - as much as I can detach, my head's a little fucked up that the unicorn is distantly related to my ball fam, or 2 - I need that rush that you gave me, or 3 - I'm getting kicked in the balls by Karma for all of this and might as well finish out this contract, tuck my tail between my legs, and head back to school, proving my parents right, that this was a horrible lapse in judgment on my part.

His dot is moving again. To stop his spiral, I quickly type back.

GoodTimesOnly: I'm not going to ask how you got unblocked, or into my phone. I'm just going to assume that you're a sneaky little bastard and a few seconds with my phone in your hand was enough to do all that. So, if I'm reading this right, you have more than just a unicorn kink; you're into far more deviant things and may have an incest fantasy. Ew. Because you're obviously in your feels and spiraling, I'll bite.

I send it then sit up, lift my shirt, push my boob up, maneuver her in a somewhat painful position that allows me to grab the end of my barbell with my teeth, and take a selfie, making sure my face doesn't completely show. Then I hit send.

GoodTimesOnly: If that doesn't work, you're on your own, kid. Kick as tomorrow. Goodnight.

SportsManSam: You know, if this works, I'm gonna need more.

GoodTimesOnly: This completely contradicts the man losing his shit about my brother(s).

SportsManSam: For the love of the game, and lucky nips, I may be able to separate the two.

Lucky nips?I laugh to myself.

GoodTimesOnly: I didn't start this project to become a bow to the man kind of bitch. It's give and take *woman shrugging emoji*

SportsManSam: And I'm not the guy who will ever send random dick pics without a request.

GoodTimesOnly: I'll take an IOU, close quarters and all …

He sends a picture of … my vibrator.

GoodTimesOnly: You stole my vibe!

SportsManSam: Compulsive and out of character. I'll overthink that later, but not tonight. Sleep well. *zzz emoji*

I have so many things to say, scream, rage about, but that's counterproductive to Nour's game and could affect Rome's, too. Plus, it's not valuable information for my little research project.

"I'm not feedinginto his superstitions; I'm treating myself," I tell Elle, who's been eyeing me suspiciously since I dog-napped her when the boys all left for their morning workout, or wherever they go after breakfast, showering, watching Real Wives, and napping.

"CeCe gave me the play by play; I wasn't asking for it," I quip as I turn the corner. "And you of all … animals shouldn't judge them because, hello, you clearly have a routine if we're ending up right back here and you're the one in the lead."

I open the door and walk in. "Good morning, Burt. Ellie dragged me along to?—"

I stop when I see he's sitting on the floor, leaning against the counter, his hand over his heart.

My own heart starts beating at a scary pace, but I remain calm.

"Are you in pain?"

He manages to groan out, "Phone."

"Okay, but we need to get you on your left side first, okay, Burt?"

I make quick work to help him into position then call 9-1-1.

Within two minutes, they arrive, and they all seem to know him. Apparently, he's a retired firefighter.

When they wheel him out, he's still conscious and able to give me some instruction.

"Treats, behind counter. Lena will be here soon. Funeral prep for Willie."

"You get better. Ellie and I will hold down the fort."

"Thanks, kid."

Standing in the middle of chaos, I feel all that energy start to fade as my phone rings. It's Mom, and she's using FaceTime.

When I answer, "Hi, Mom," tears start to fall.

"Oh, Jillian, what's wrong? Do you need me? Are the boys?—"

"Rome's good, Hudson's on his way back to you, and I'm fine."

"Well, what is it, sweetie?"

I tell her what happened with Burt, and then I walk out and show her the sign. "Etta's mom."

"Etta's." She sighs.

I briefly explain how we found this place and that it's closing down.

"But that's not why you called. Tell me something good." I smile.

She flips the camera. "We have a vegetable garden. It's bigger than I expected." Which is putting it mildly. "Ten rows of raised beds with four across. They're eight feet long, Jillian. We're going to have beans, and peas, and cucumbers; tomatoes, and all different kinds of squash and zucchini; onions, and garlic, and a whole box of herbs." She moves the camera. "This is the salad box. All different kinds of greens. We can come right out here and snip what we want off whenever we want it, and it's all organic, Jillian. I played in aged horse manure for two days." She laughs. "There's lots more to do, but isn't it beautiful?"

"It's perfect." I smile as she turns the camera back to face her. "You're glowing."

"And you've just been through an ordeal."

"I hope he's okay."

"We'll pray for him."

The little bells ring, and Lena walks in.

"Mom, I have to go. Lena just walked in."

"Call me, text me, and most importantly, you need me, don't hesitate. These are planted, and it's not like they need me to be present to grow."

"I've heard that plants do better if you talk to them," I tell her, hoping my words are heard by Lena, and that she may talk to me today.

We end the call.

"Lena, do you remember me?"

She nods.

"When I came in, I found Burt sitting on the floor. He's on his way to the hospital."

She doesn't react at all.

"Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"Karma," she huffs. "Damn fool, that man." She walks around, speaking in Spanish, which I am familiar with, but textbook familiar and never having truly used it is far from fluent. What I do know is Lena's pissed. "Ette angry," she says, shaking her fist to emphasize her statement. "No sell. No. Sell." She puts her hand to her chest. "Her heart, right here." She points upstairs. "My home up there. Burt angry bastard." She throws her hands in the air in frustration. "She no want to go; the angels call. No choice."

"Was she your friend, Lena?" I ask quietly.

"Only friend." She holds her hand to her heart. "I come here for her. Now no home. No job. I go? I no want to go. I stay."

"I'm so sorry. I wish I could help."

"You buy. I stay. I work. You help."

Holy shit. "I'm going back to school soon."

"You buy. I stay. I work. You help," she repeats.

"Lena, I don't have money."

"Flowers money. Make pretty sell. Money." Her eyes shine with unshed tears. "I help. I work hard. Make beautiful. You give rent money, flower money to bastard." She holds her hand to her heart again. "I help."

After takingEllie and the flowers back to the house, I drove back to Etta's, not wanting Lena to be alone. I was probably more a hindrance than a help, but we got the order finished and delivered to the funeral home in plenty of time.

When we came back, I asked her how long she had before her visa expired. Lena led me up two flights of stairs to a large apartment that was nearly spotless but needed a lot of work.

"Too big." She cringed. "Too much." She then gave me a file. "You take."

Knowing one of CeCe's friends was a lawyer and could possibly help me, I took it.

She then showed me the empty shell of another massive apartment across the hall and pointed upstairs. "Two more. Loud. Smoke. Kick out. Make nice. Get new." She holds her hand up and rubs her fingers together. "More money for you."

Exhausted from spending the day at Etta's. I napped like a champ and would have been late for the game if CeCe hadn't come and woken me up.

"You feeling okay?" she asked when I came out of the downstairs bedroom from my shower.

"Yes. Why? Do I look like shit?"

"Not at all. You've just been"—she shrugs—"distant?"

"Distant?"

"You should stay in the house." She pouts. "We have room. The best room in the house is free."

"You and Rome are nuts not to move down here."

"Makes more sense to save it for when Chloe, Danny, and Aggie visit."

"That's sweet."

She looks at her watch. "You ready to roll?"

"I am. Is Cora coming?"

"She and her father are in the city again."

"Damn, they really do love Broadway."

CeCe gives Ellie smooches before sending her into her crate. "Did you not like it?"

"I love any new experience, but I'd never choose theater seats over bleachers."

"A girl who knows what she likes," CeCe states as she hits the key fob, unlocking her car. "Rome aside, if we met in the wild, you and I would become friends."

I don't know why that gets to me, but it does. And as I slide into the car, I try to hide my emotions, but CeCe Shaw is too observant.

She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. "You're incredible, Jillian Hart."

"I'm so glad he found you."