“I had a lot of energy after my divorce and I needed to funnel it somewhere useful. This house was a lifesaver. Once I got the inside done, I turned my focus to the garden. It was a sorry mess. No offense to Flo, bless her heart.”
“Not like the mayhem of wildflowers that cover the dunes around Primrose Cottage.”
“Which is a look I also admire,” said Emmi. “Lovie and I used to argue about my garden. She never wanted anything cultivated. Said I should only have indigenous plants, as nature intended.” She shrugged.
“As does Cara. And me.” She lifted one shoulder. “I guess it runs in the family. But it doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate your beautiful garden.”
“It doesn’t come easy when you’re digging in sand, I can tell you. Nothing cultivated lasts long. In truth, your grandmother was right. But I’m an old dog and all that.”
As she followed, Linnea couldn’t help but notice that, under Emmi’s plain green tunic top, a riotous pattern of flowers and rhinestones covered the rear of her jeans. No matter that Emmi ordered all the new fashions for the women’s department of the local Belk department store—when it came to her own clothing, Emmi loved her “doodads and sparklers,” as she called all the colorful stitched designs, beads, and rhinestones.
Emmi led them to the black iron patio set, and they took care to settle on the bright coral cushions at far opposite sides of the table.
“I think I can guess why you’re here,” Emmi opened.
“John,” said Linnea.
Emmi nodded, her green eyes sparkling with joy. “You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when he just showed up at my door. That boy likes surprises.”
“I’ll say. When did he arrive? I hadn’t heard a peep.”
“You mean to say he didn’t tell you he was coming?”
Linnea looked at her hands and shook her head. “He wouldn’t.”
Emmi looked at her, one brow raised. “That’s sad to hear.” She skipped a beat. “I told him to tell you he was coming.”
“He might have. I, uh…” Linnea tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I haven’t answered his texts.”
Emmi paused and digested that. Linnea felt a slight chill enter the space between them. Talking about a breakup with the ex’s mother was, by definition, awkward.
“Well,” Emmi said crisply, “I’ll start from the beginning. There was this conference for one of his clients in Myrtle Beach. John flew in to make a presentation. I gather it was successful,” she added with a mother’s pride. “He’s really good at public speaking. So, being so close and all, he surprised me and Flo with a visit. No sooner did he arrive when he got a text from a friend saying he’d caught that virus that’s going around.”
“The coronavirus,” Linnea said, sitting straighter.
“That’s it,” Emmi said with a quick nod. “You know John. He made a decision right quick to isolate himself. He went straight to the carriage house. There’s no getting a test because there are no tests to be had. John instructed me to scour the house with antibacterial soap, which I did. I’m in that dangerous demographic, you know. And especially Flo, at eighty-nine—everything is a worry. We’re being super careful. John’s been holed up in the carriage house ever since. I bring him meals; he orders food in.” She sighed. “We’re trying our best. It’s all so confusing.”
Linnea was grateful that Emmi didn’t cast aspersions for her not answering John’s texts. “When did he arrive?”
“Why…” Emmi paused to count on her fingers. “Can’t have been more than four days. He’s not budged from that room, and he won’t until another week has passed. You know how he is when he has his mind made up.”
“Yes,” Linnea replied, and clenched her hands in her lap. “Does he have any symptoms?”
“He says he doesn’t. But he’s worried he could carry the germs. What’s that called when they don’t have the symptoms but they do carry it?”
“Asymptomatic.”
“That’s right. He wants to stay in quarantine the full two weeks.”
“And then he’ll leave?”
Emmi’s brows rose. “I don’t know. That’s up to him.”
Linnea frowned. “You mean he might stay longer?”
“I hope he does.”
She saw Emmi stiffen slightly and heard the subtle shift in tone. Of course she’d want him to stay as long as possible. What mother wouldn’t? And the last thing Linnea wanted was to get into an argument with John’s mother. She loved Emmi and valued their relationship. She wouldn’t allow John to ruin that.
“Is that a problem for you?” Emmi asked directly.
“It’s just… he’s trying to make contact with me.”
“Well, why not? You’re still friends, aren’t you?”
Linnea shook her head and looked at her hands clutched in her lap. She heard the loud buzzing of a bee near her ears. “No, Emmi. We’re not.”
Emmi shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable.
It was time to go. Linnea looked up and said earnestly, “I hope he’s well. Thanks for bringing me up to speed.”
“You don’t have to rush off.”
“I left groceries on the counter,” Linnea replied. She rose and turned to leave, then stopped. It had to be said. “Listen,” she said, resting her hand on the back of the iron chair for support. “Could you do me a favor? If you see John, or talk to him through the door, could you ask him not to try to contact me? I’d rather he didn’t.”
Emmi’s smile fell to a frown. “Now, isn’t that going a bit too far? He’s just being friendly.”
Linnea shook her head. She didn’t want to talk to his mother about this. “There’s nothing left for him to say. He was quite clear when I left California that he didn’t want me in his life.”
“Oh, honey, are you sure? That’s not what he tells me.”
Linnea put her hand to her forehead. The pain felt fresh, threatening tears. She straightened her spine and drew in a long breath. “Emmi, he bought my plane ticket home. One-way. That message was pretty clear to me.”
Emmi’s face was pained. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Don’t be. It really isn’t any of your business. I shouldn’t have told you now. Emmi, I don’t want this to come between us, okay?” Linnea sighed. “I wouldn’t have said anything if he hadn’t come back. But he did, and here we are. So please, tell him for me… I already heard all he has to say. He can do whatever he wants. But I don’t want to talk to him.” She lifted her chin. “I’ve moved on.”
“I haven’t.”
At the sound of John’s voice, Linnea swung around toward the garden gate.
chapter four
Listen, there’s a hell of a good universe next door, let’s go.
e. e. cummings
LINNEA STARED, ANNOYED by the dizzying sensations that always accompanied the sight of him.