LoveLines (29 page)

“What is this?” Reece asked, panicked.

“Your beautiful bouquets,” Camden replied, slipping in the last flower.

“Camden . . .” But there was no time to fix them. And Reece wasn’t sure he would have done a better job. Why didn’t he just b
uy bouquets? And then he reminded himself that he wanted flowers out of Bailey’s garden—
their
garden.

“
Yoohoo! Reeces!” Soledad called over the fence. She never called him “Reece.” It was always “Reeces,” and he figured it was a subconscious decision based on the Reese’s candy commercials she heard on TV.

Reece waved his neighbor over.

“¿Qué estás haciendo?” she asked, approaching the table. “¿Y quién puso esto junto?” She waved her hand over the bouquets, scowling.

Reece pointed to Camden who shrugged.

“What? They look good!” he replied, offended.

Soledad shook her head emphatically and picked up the scissors. She pointed them at Camden while she went off about something. Or, at least, it sounded like she was going off. The men hadn’t a clue her exact words, but they gathered that Camden’s job was shit and that she had plans to redo the vases. She started pulling out all the flowers and re-trimming them.

“Whatever,” Camden mumbled. “I dunno how to do this shit. I work in sales.” And he trudged off to help Christopher hang twinkle lights.

“I’m proposing,” Reece told Soledad.

She smiled, not understanding.

Reece tried again, this time sinking to his knee and taking Soledad’s hand. “I’m proposing.”

Her face lit up. “Oh, Reeces! Usted y Bailey son perfectos juntos! Estoy tan feliz de que ha encontrado un buen hombre! Todos sus otros hombres no eran buenos, Reeces. No eran buenos.”

He nodded. She pulled him to his feet and grabbed his face, kissin
g one cheek and then the other. And then she took over—shouting commands in Spanish while she finished rearranging the vases. The men did the best they could. Soledad smacked Christopher’s hand once and popped the back of Camden’s head twice, but for the most part, they were good about understanding the gist of her orders. By five o’clock the back yard was a wonderland. The gardens teemed with summer color. Candles floated about the fish pond. Even more of them dotted the walkways and crowded the tables. Reece couldn’t wait to light them all.

“You owe us lots and lots of beer,” Camden said.

“And food, too,” Christopher chimed in. “I mean, on account of the smacking.”

Reece chuckled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know Soledad planned to come over, but I’m sure as hell glad she did.
”

The men
grunted.

“Food, on account of the smacking,” Christopher repeated slowly.

Reece nodded. “All right, all right.”

He thanked his friends
then started in on the second phase of his preparations: cooking.

***

“You’re the best friend a girl could have,” Erica sniffed as she lay spread out on the couch, wrapped in three blankets. “I’m totally ruining your birthday.”

I handed the puzzle piece to Little Noah.

“Nonsense. I wasn’t gonna abandon you with two small kids when you’re like this,” I replied. “What do you have anyway?”

“The flu. A bad, bad flu,” Erica croaked.

“Poor thing,” I replied. “Don’t you dare get me sick.”

“I’ve been disinfecting like mad,” she said. “And I don’t think I’m contagious anymore. Isn’t it like
once you start exhibiting signs you’re out of the contagious phase?”

I shrugged. “How should I know? Just don’t get me sick, or I’ll murder you.”

“Not a fan of being sick in the summertime?” Erica asked.

I shook my head. “Who gets the flu in the summertime?”

“This is my lot in life,” Erica replied. “This is the kind of bullsh— the kind of stuff that happens to me.”

I eyed her sternly then refocused my attention on the puzzle. Right now it was just Little Noah and me. Annie was napping. She’d been napping for an awfully long time, and I wondered if I should wake her up.
Erica told me to let her sleep—that she was sick, too—and I argued that she wouldn’t go to bed tonight.

“Noah will be home,” she explained.

I laughed. “The poor guy’s been gone on business for a week, and now he’ll be up all night with a sick baby?”

“He loves it,” Erica said, waving her hand dismissively. She looked at me and grinned.

“What?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing,” she replied airily.

I hated when Erica did that. She obviously knew something I didn’t, was dying to tell me, but knew she wasn’t allowed. The worst part was that she wanted me to beg, and she knew I would.

“I guess you know a surprise about my birthday?” I asked.

“Of course, I do,” Erica replied. “Reece is doing something extra special since you two couldn’t spend the day together. I still feel badly about it.”

“Stop feeling bad
ly!” I chastised. “I offered to help.”

“But I ha
ve other friends,” Erica pointed out.

“None who would do this,” I said
. “Except for your mommy friends, and you hate them.”

“True.”

“I just hope I’m not too tired tonight to . . . you know.” I glanced at Erica and winked.

“Well, that’s why I didn’t ask you to take the kids to the park,” Erica said.

I laughed.

“I want you to have a fun birthday, Bailey,” Erica said softly.

“Erica, I swear I am.”

“I know you’re not big into surprises,” she went on.

“I’m getting better about them.”

Erica sat up
too quickly and grabbed her face. “Dear. Lord.”

“Take it easy there,” I said.

She shut her eyes tightly as a wave of coughing took over. I instinctively covered my nose and mouth.

“B-Bailey, I’m so . . . so p-proud of you,” she wheezed.

“Finish coughing before you try to speak.”

Once her coughing subsided, Erica gingerly leaned against the back of the couch, wincing at the soreness in her muscles.

“Muscle aches are the worst, I think,” she said.

I nodded.

She took a deep breath. “So as I was saying, I’m really proud of you.”

“Over what?”

“Over what? Seriously? How about the fact that you walk into work at any time now.”

“Before eight,” I clarified
.

“You know what I mean. You completely abandoned your 7:58 A.M. ritual.”

“I know.”

“Do you still count?”

“Haven’t in months.”

“And
your proofreading pens?”

“Wherever,” I replied.

Erica’s eyebrows shot up. “Turning the stove knobs?”

“I did that?”

“A long time ago. In another life,” Erica said.

I grinned.

“And how about the hand sanitizer?”

“Oh, I still do that, but I don’t have to apply it at exactly noon and three,” I said.

“Oh, Bailey.”

“Hmm?”

“I just love how you’ve let go,” Erica said softly.

“Me, too. I can’t believe how much I don’t care anymore. I can’t believe how another person was able to help me give up control.”

“How did he do it?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “The magic of love, perhaps?”

“Love,” Erica sighed. “It’s the most powerful force on the planet.”

I nodded.

“I’m so happy for you, B,” Erica said.

“Thanks,” I replied. “And I’m happy for you. Business is booming
, I hear. How do you spray all those clients?”

“I hired a girl,” she replied.

“What? When? You never tell me anything.”

“About three weeks ago.
I have so many clients I’m drowning,” Erica explained. She blew her nose, long and loud.

“Is she doing it on her own yet
?”

“Today’
s her first full day by herself since I trained her.”

“Who is she?”

“College student. Her name’s Taylor. She’s a junior. Business major.”

“How’d you find her?”

“Posted an ad on the boards all over campus,” Erica said. “She’s a sweetie. Really personable. Cute little thing. Fast learner, too.”

I smiled.

Erica thought for a moment. “She’s a quiet one, too. Totally has sh— stuff in her past I plan to dig up.”

“Erica!”

“Well, if she’s working for me, I need to know these things.”

“You do a background check on her?”

“Oh, yeah. Clean as a whistle. It’s not like a legal thing with her. It’s something else entirely. I’ll figure it out.”

“By asking her point blank?”

“No. I have other ways of extracting info,” Erica replied.

“That poor girl,” I said, shaking my head.

“You’re talking about me, right?” she asked. “‘Cause I feel like pure sh— crap.”

I frowned. “What can I do for you?”

“You can leave here promptly at six,” she said.

“Why?
”

“
Because that’s when I promised I’d send you home,” Erica said.

I watched her carefully
. “How much do you know?”

She sighed pleasantly.
“Oh, everything.”

***

Reece sat at the table on the patio, heel tapping with fearful anticipation. What if she didn’t like the back yard? What if she didn’t like the ring? What if she wasn’t ready to get married? Yes, she had agreed in the past, but that relationship fell apart. What if the pain she experienced from that broken engagement scarred her permanently? What if it made her afraid of marriage?

No
. That’s not right. She was so upset that her sister walked down the aisle first. The girl wanted to get married. But what if she didn’t want to marry him? His mind spun, thinking of all the reasons she wouldn’t want to be bound to him for life.

His socks smelled sometimes. He never loaded the dishwasher right, and she always had to come behind him and redo it. (Were these legitimate reasons?) He was bad about remembering to turn off lights when he’d leave a room.
He wanted to hang all over her all the time, and she wasn’t a cuddler. Maybe that annoyed her.

No
no. Think positively, Reece.

She loved when he chased her around the house. She said he cooked pasta and grilled burgers mu
ch better than she ever could. She liked to sit on the toilet and watch him shave. She told him every night how much she loved him, even after they’d argue. They bought a dog together, for Christ’s sake!

He heard her open the front door.
Poppy barked. Then silence. Then the back door knob turned. He heard her voice through the door.

“Reece?”

She emerged, the dog on her heels.

“Reece?
Ree . . .” She gasped. “Oh my God. Oh my
God
.”

“Do you like it?” he asked, standing up tentatively.

“Reece,” she whispered, and her feet moved automatically, in a daze—a dream. She seemed to float around the yard, taking in the details of his hard work. She reached up and fingered the twinkle lights on the pergola. She bent down to smell the new flowers he’d planted. She pointed to the candles floating in the fish pond.

He smiled at her, absorbing her surprise—her expression that voiced
the impossibility of this space.

“How?” she asked.

“How?” he repeated.

“How did you do all this?”

He walked toward her and took her hand.

“I had lots of help,” he replied.

“Who?”

“Camden and Chris,” he said. “And Soledad.”

She laughed, shaking her head, and the lights from the pergola caught her face, reflecting the tears that coursed her cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” he said softly.

“No one’s ever done anything . . .” Her voice broke, and she cried outright.

“Bailey . . .”

He wrapped her in his arms and let her cry on his chest.

“It’s just so beautiful,” she said. “You brought back my oasis.”

“
Our
oasis,” he said gently.

She nodded against his shirt and hugged him tighter.

“Happy birthday, doll baby,” he whispered. “I grilled steaks.”

She pulled back. “Really?”

He nodded. “You came home at the perfect time.”

“I came home when Erica said,” she replied.

Reece grinned. “Good ol’ reliable Erica.”