42. Dusty

She is small, but she is mighty.

I didn’t even consider turning her away when she offered to help.

We have equally vested interest in this year’s crop. She technically has more to gain.

And besides, I was just excited to spend some time with her. Touched that she would offer.

But I did not expect her to work that hard. Be that willing to get dirty.

By the time we finish the last load, she’s clearly exhausted, covered in a fine coating of dust, and grinning.

We’re too beat to cook, so we agree to get some dinner at Tia’s Bar.

She rests her head on my shoulder as we head into town, gliding her hand up and down my lap. “You’re sweaty.”

I’ve got my arm around her shoulder, and I tug her in, pinning her to my side. “That’s what hard work will do to you.

As we turn down main street, a thought occurs to me. “Should we stop by your mom’s memorial?”

“Her what?”

“The butterfly garden. It should be blooming right now.”

“The what?”

I glance over at her. “Gus never told you about the garden he donated to the town?”

She sits up, Ed pushes upright, too. “No. It’s here in town?”

I pull over next to the park, hustling around the truck to open the passenger door. Ed piles out first, and I take Marnie’s hand to help her down. I could let go. We’re in town and people are bound to see, but I hold on. There’s a vulnerable look in her eye that makes my heart squeeze uncomfortably.

We walk down a short cobblestone path to the garden. It’s nothing big, but it’s always beautiful. There’s a cobblestone courtyard with a fountain in the center. Water tumbles down from a pitcher in a woman’s hands, looking lifelike, despite being cast in bronze. She stops and stares at it for a long time. I pull away, giving her a moment to herself. The flowers are in full bloom, especially the roses. Butterflies and bees flit from bloom to bloom. When I’ve completed the circuit, I return to her, cautiously slipping an arm around her waist.

She takes a shaky breath, wrapping both arms around my chest. “I didn’t know he did this.”

“Your uncle was a pretty quiet guy. Never one to brag about his good deeds.”

“So I’ve heard.”

She hooks her arm around mine and walks along the path, stopping by the statue on the south end of the garden. It’s a little lamb. She kneels, reading the inscription at the base.

In my heart, I carry you still

She looks up at me with a question in her eyes. She glances over her shoulder at the bronze woman. “That’s clearly my mom. Did he say who the lamb was for?”

I shake my head, feeling useless. “He just called it Naomi’s lamb. I never asked. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She stands, hugging me. “Thank you for showing me this. I wish I could thank him, too.”

“Why didn’t you…”

I trail off, regretting the question before I can even finish asking it.

She peers up at me, arms still wrapped around my waist. “Why didn’t I what?”

“I was just curious… why didn’t you come to the funeral?”

The whole town showed up, but there was no one there from the family. Sienna and I were asked to sit in the chairs at the burial. I felt like a phony, but leaving those chairs empty felt too awful.

“I wanted to.”

She says, resting her cheek on my chest. “I was on my way, actually. But that was the day my dad went into the hospital. Honestly, those first few weeks in May were a complete shit show. I moved dad into hospice and then the bakery burned down. They say bad luck comes in threes. I got my three and then some.”

I crane my head to look at her. “Your dad is in hospice?”

“Yeah. I didn’t tell you that?”

“No, you didn’t. Jesus, Marnie. That’s a lot to deal with. He’s in Lincoln?”

She nods. “Yeah. Seventy-two years old and spending his last days in a nursing home.”

“When my mom went into hospice care, we were able to keep her home. It was crazy expensive, though.”

Those words feel like clay on my tongue because they bring back other memories. Feelings of shame and anger.

Memories of the worst thing I’ve ever done.

And the bittersweet knowledge that Gus Novak ended up being my savior.

I didn’t deserve him.

And I don’t deserve his niece.

But it seems like the universe has woven our fates together.