Mom flashed me a tight smile. “I’ll wrap them up.”

She tucked the roses inside a layer of ivory tissue and brown paper, then pulled a length of white jute from the big spool on the counter and tied a knot in three turns.

“Angie and I are here if you need anything,” she said, handing him the flowers. “Don’t hesitate to call us.”

“I don’t want to bother you,” he said.

“Don’t,” my mom said firmly. “Don’t do that. It’s not a bother and neither are you, understand?”

He nodded, dabbing at his eyes. “Tell Mo I said thanks for dinner the other night. I owe you.”

“I’ll tell her,” my mom said. “And you don’t owe us anything—except maybe some of your world-famous peach cobbler.”

Mr. Hughes laughed, his eyes still damp with tears. “I got you covered. I make it from scratch—my grandmama’s recipe. Nothing like it in the whole world.”

He beamed. My mom went around the counter and gave him a hug.

I ducked back behind my flower arrangement and took a deep breath. I’d been able to help this time, but it couldn’t be a habit. The last time I’d pushed my abilities to their limit was after an argument I’d had with my mom. I didn’t even remember what it was about, but my overdramatic ass was upset and decided to sit in the garden and grow some chamomile as a distraction. I took a handful of loose-leaf tea and scattered it in the dirt.

And then, I’d pushed too hard. I grew dozens of the daisy-like chamomile plants, but I also brought the roots of our neighbor’s Norway maple tree up through the ground, tearing apart the landscaping and busting a hole in the fence. Mo told the guy next door that sometimes trees go through a growth spurt, like kids when they hit puberty, and for some reason that was beyond me, his dumb ass believed her.

I helped Mo patch the fence, but every time I looked at the new, pale pickets, a stab of shame coursed through me.

The flowers in my arrangement craned their soft petals toward me. Any time I was sad or scared or happy, they took notice, reacted in kind. Grief and sadness made them shrivel; happiness made them perk up; and fear and anger made them lash out.