The Resurrection of Wildflowers (Wildflower #2)(17)

“You didn’t answer my question.”

It doesn’t matter how old you get, mothers will always be mothers.

“I found some of my old candles at your shop. I was just taking them out of the box.” I point to the few already on the counter.

“Oh, I had those pulled for someone.”

I laugh, not sure I’ve heard her right. “What? For who?”

“That doesn’t matter.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Take them back to the store.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re already paid for.”

“Oh, right.” I shake my head, loading the candles back into the box. “Sorry, I didn’t know. I was surprised you still had any left.”

She shrugs. “I held back some. That was the last of it.”

“Huh.” I put my hands on my hips, wondering why someone would pay and have her hold old candles. “Are you ready for some breakfast?”

“Maybe some scrambled eggs.” She looks a bit queasy talking about food. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be in her position—little to no appetite but knowing you need to get something in your system.

“I’ll whip those right up.”

She gives a forced smile, but I know she appreciates I’m here and helping. “I was thinking.” She clears her throat. “I’d like to do something with you today.”

I pull a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. “Are you up for that?” She was out at Georgia’s for a few hours yesterday evening. I don’t want her to overdo herself. “I’d like to get out for a while. It’s a nice day.”

“What do you have in mind?”

She toys with the tie on her robe. “I thought we could visit Seda and Caleb.”

I gape at her—not because of her asking to visit, that’s understandable, but—“Mom, are you sure you’re up for that kind of trip?”

It’s a few hours there and back and she’s … well, she’s not in the best shape to put it lightly.

“It might be easier if we stayed the night,” she acquiesces, with a nod, her slender fingers still rubbing against the material of her robe. She smiles sheepishly. I know she feels guilty because of the situation with Caleb, but I can’t deny her request to see her granddaughter.

“Let me run it by Georgia and see what she thinks about you making the trip and I’ll ask Caleb too.”

“All right.”

I finish her eggs and add a piece of toast just in case she ends up wanting some to nibble on some before I step outside to make the calls.

It’s warm outside with a slight breeze, the birds chirping merrily. I missed this place. This house. The town. Even the people in it.

“Wha—” I gasp when my foot hits something it shouldn’t.

My eyes shoot to the last step, a startled gasp passing through my lips.

A bouquet of fresh pink peonies wrapped in Kraft paper lies there waiting.

I know without looking at the note attached that they’re for me from Thayer. Bending down I pick them up. Each one is perfect, not one discolored petal or imperfection to find. I look around, like I expect him to be lurking somewhere, but I don’t see him. I hold the flowers close, not sure how to feel about the gesture. I’m not mad, but I am confused.

Six years.

I moved on.

Started a new life.

I never heard from him again.

He didn’t reach out, but now he acts as if he wants to pick up where we left off—well, maybe not exactly there, but— Shaking my head, I set the flowers back down and walk away from them.

I don’t have time to think about Thayer, to contemplate how and why he does things.

Do you want things to pick back up?

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

Yes.

No.

I don’t know.

And not knowing is the scariest part of all.

After all this time, I think I expected to see him again and for the attraction to have lessened but that’s not what happened at all. If anything, the pull is only stronger and that terrifies me. I can’t allow myself to be broken by him again.

Once was enough and the only reason I survived was because I was growing our child.

For her, I was stronger.

For her, I didn’t give up.

Inhaling a deep breath, I shove all thoughts of Thayer out of my brain and focus on the task at hand—calling my sister and Caleb.

I’m not on the phone long with either and pick up the flowers again, carrying them inside with me.

“Everything’s a go.” I set the flowers on the cabinet, searching for a vase in the cabinet above the stove. “We’ll head out in about an hour.”

“Where are the flowers from?” Her tone is suspicious.

“No idea,” I reply, sounding equally as mystified.

“Was there a card?” I conveniently slide the note away, planning to read it later.

“Nope. It must be from your secret admirer.”

She rolls her eyes. “Ah, yes, I get a lot of those. That makes total sense.”

“Smartass,” I snicker, filling the vase with water.

She laughs. “Don’t sass me.”

“Can’t help it.” I unwrap the flowers gently, putting them in the water one at a time.