The Resurrection of Wildflowers (Wildflower #2)(82)

“There’s somewhere I want to take you ladies before we go home.”

“And where’s that?” I ask as he pull away from the curb.

“You’ll see.”

A few minutes later we’re parked outside the cemetery. I send him a questioning glance, but he only motions with his hand for me to follow him out of the truck.

“Are we visiting Grandma and brother?”

“Yeah,” Thayer takes her hand, “we are.”

“But we didn’t bring flowers.” She frowns, seeming highly distraught by this fact. “Wait.” She pulls her hand from Thayer’s and takes off running for the field beside the cemetery. She plucks a handful of wildflowers, smiling at her bouquet. The flowers are dry and brittle, practically dead since the weather has been getting cold, but she smiles at them like they’re the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

She runs back over to us, taking each of our hands and somehow managing to keep ahold of the flowers too. Thayer looks down at her, then up to me, and I wonder if he feels it too. How despite the tragedies we’ve both had to face in our lifetimes, that our lives are still beautiful, still filled with love, and though some might think we’re extremely unlucky, I’d argue the opposite. We’ve come out on the other side scarred, but beautiful. Life has tested us in some of the cruelest ways, but we’re both still standing here. We’re smiling. We’re thriving. That’s the true test of a person—the beauty they’re able to find in the simple things.

In the wildflowers that bloom and blossom freely.

In the bees that pollinate our earth.

In the sound of the wind rustling the leaves.

Those are the things that matter.

This. Us.

Thayer leads us through and around. He has the path memorized. My mom isn’t beside Forrest, but they are near, so as we approach, I notice something new, something different.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“It’s a bench, Mom,” Seda says like she can’t believe I don’t know what one looks like.

She lets go of our hands, running ahead and to her brother’s grave first.

“Did the cemetery put a bench in or something?” I search his brown eyes for an answer.

He shakes his head, tugging a beanie down over his ears more. “No.”

“Then why? I … I don’t understand.”

We get closer and I start to take in the detail of it. It has my mom’s name carved into it. Forrest’s too. My hand flies to my mouth, tears stinging my eyes. Damn him for making me cry.

“I made it,” he says softly. “We’re here often enough and I spoke with the caretaker. I was able to buy an empty plot almost exactly between them, so that way we can sit here and we’ll be close to both of them.”

I gape at him. “You bought a whole grave plot just to put a bench on it?”

“Yes.”

One word. So simple. But it speaks volumes about the kind of man Thayer is.

He put a whole gym in his basement and now he bought an entire grave just to put a bench on it so we can be with our family.

“You … you’re amazing.” I throw my hands around his neck, my feet lifting off the ground with his height. His arms wrap around me, his face burrowing into the crook of my neck.

“I’m really not.”

“And that’s even more of a reason why you are.” I take his face in my hands. “You do these things from the goodness of your heart. Because you want to. You’re not asking for credit, but you deserve it anyway.”

This man deserves everything, and I hope I’m the one who can give it to him.

I take a seat on the bench, and he joins me.

Closing my eyes, I lay my head on his shoulder.

I feel at peace. Despite the chaos of our lives, the turmoil, the ups and downs, and everything it took to get us to this point, I feel thankful in a strange way. Thankful that we’re here, together, and didn’t let the bad things break us.

We sit there, together, as the sun sets, watching Seda speak to her grandma and brother, leaving her flowers trailing behind her, our hands clasped together.

I get a flash of what Thayer spoke about one time, of sitting on the front porch swing one day, watching our grandchildren run around the yard.

And I smile.





CHAPTER 51





SALEM





It’s a strange thing, hosting Thayer’s family for the Thanksgiving holiday. Of course I know Laith, not well but enough, but I don’t know his parents at all. Not really, in my opinion. We’ve been FaceTiming with them weekly since Thayer first broke the news to them of our relationship, past, and Seda, but it’s been awkward getting to know them that way, and I fear they won’t like me. After all, I kept their grandchild a secret for six years. I could understand if there was animosity. But when the car shows up, Laith driving since he flew all the way to their house in Florida just to drive them here, Thayer’s mom is all too eager to get out of the car and hug me.

She smells of freesia and her hug feels like home.

“Elaine,” I hug her tighter, “it’s so nice to meet you.”

She pulls away slightly, taking me in. “It’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart. My Thayer is different, he’s happy again. You made him smile again—his real smile. I can never thank you enough for that.”