It was a Charleston single, a popular floor plan that could be found in a variety of styles around the Holy City. Mine was a Victorian. In the last seven years, I’d made this house completely mine — leaned all the way into the eccentric plant lady moniker that my friends and family had so lovingly slapped on my back. I caressed my babies, stroked their leaves, and talked to them as I made my way to the stairs, stopping in the foyer to inspect my most prized possession, an eight-foot monstera deliciosa grown from a clipping my grandmother gave me on my wedding day. It was a family tradition, one I intended to continue by gifting Brandi a clipping once she and Jared said their I dos. I just hadn’t decided which of her gorgeous leaves to clip yet.

“Hm… My marriage may have died on the vine, but you’re flourishing, aren’t you? My beautiful monster,” I murmured with a sigh, then turned to climb the stairs to my bedroom.

Greenery crowded the upstairs hallway, making it seem more narrow than it actually was. The leaves created a buffer from the street noise, which was almost constant. I still heard the boys in the yard, though, their laughter cutting into the quiet and spinning me back through time.

In my bedroom, the doors of the piazza were open to the side garden, and now I could hear their conversation more clearly.

“Your mom…” Scott said. “She’s looking mighty fine.”

“Okay, enough of that,” Jared grumbled.

“I’m just saying. She could still get it.”

“He said that’s enough,” Tommy said, a sharp edge to his voice that made strange feelings stir in my belly.

“Oh, so you’re the only one who can talk about his mama like that?” Scott asked.

Was he winding Tommy up intentionally? Quietly and carefully, I stepped out onto the piazza. It wasn’t that I was angry about those quips from Scott, but…I did want to hear what Tommy had to say in response.

“First of all, I don’t talk about Darcy—”

“Darcy?” Scott interrupted, his tone incredulous.

“Ms. MacFarland,” Tommy corrected. “I don’t talk to her or about her that way.”

“Nah…you just turn into a panting little puppy whenever she comes into a room,” Carter said with a laugh. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. We’ve all had a crush on her at one time or another. But I thought you would get over that. It appears I was wrong.”

I waited to hear Tommy make some sound of dissent, but none came. Instead, Scott said, “Oh, shit! Look at his face! You thought we didn’t know you had a crush on her all this time?”

“Guys… I’m sitting right the fuck here,” Jared complained.

“I’m just saying—”

“Shut the fuck up, Scott,” Tommy snapped.