The bounty of this place was astounding. My father’s green thumb had been learned from his father-in-law, who had tended the greenhouse before him, just as my mother’s knack for flowers had been learned from my grandmother, passed down to Laney, Ivy, and Tess. But Laney had never loved it, not the way Mom had and not in the way Tess did. Dad understood. I don’t know that Mom ever would. And as such, Tess had become the vessel to pour her passion into.

And really, it was a boon because Tess needed Mom. Needed a mom.

I scanned the greenery, dotted with zinnias. Even after the heavy harvest today, there was more to be had. And over the next days and weeks, more would bloom.

It was one of the many majesties of flowers—the more you took, the more they gave.

One common misconception of gardening was that pruning would hurt the plants. But so long as you did it with conscientious awareness, the bounty would multiply. When control was exerted, when boundaries were put in place, the subject thrived. When left wild, they would overgrow, choke other plants. The bounty would thin. The plant might even die.

Glancing at the greenery, one might think it was chaos. But that chaos was controlled, contemplated, cared for with consideration.

It was like Tess, I realized. Her desire to prune, to control her life, to insulate herself from change and that inevitable chaos of life. Maybe there was something to that. Where I was wild, my bounty was anemic. Where hers was pruned, her bounty was plentiful.

Maybe it was something I could learn from her. Maybe she’d show me where to trim, where to cut.

And maybe I could show her how to run a little wild.

I shifted again, lying on my side, propped up by my forearm. Brutus popped his head out from a peony plant, judgmentally eyeing me.

“I look like fucking Burt Reynolds, don’t I?” I muttered to him, sitting up.

“You kinda do,” Tess said with a laugh.

I shot to my feet, smiling like I hadn’t just had the shit scared out of me. “Hey. You came.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

“Did you have to sneak out again?”

She chuckled, moving to sit on the blanket I’d laid out. “Not exactly, but I did have to lie about where I was going.”

I frowned as I sat next to her. “I thought your dad liked me.”

“Oh, I’m sure he does. But I’m not quite ready to explain to him that I do too. Not after years of insisting that I can’t stand the sight of you.”

I ignored the latter in favor of the former. “You like me.”

Tess laughed, her little chin tipping up. “Well, you’ve been a good friend.”

“And a great kisser.”

A flush smudged her cheeks. “Yes, and that. Among other things.”

A flash of hope smudged my heart. “I’ve been working on changing your mind about me.”

“You don’t say?” she deadpanned.