AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS
Excerpt
The cadence
of my banter falters. “Oh, no. It’s a New York thing. I moved here not too long
ago. I’m still adjusting.”
He shifts
on his feet awkwardly, adjusts the tool belt.
“What
brought you out west?”
I lost all faith in humanity and decided to run
away from my problems.
“Oh, just
needed a change of scene, ya know?”
He gives me
that long, penetrating look again, like he’s trying to hack my brain.
“You from
here?” I ask, wanting him to stop staring at me like a circus freak.
“No, I’m
from San Diego originally. My folks moved us up here when I was ten. I moved
away after college.”
“Oh, how
long have you been back?”
“About five
years.” He clears his throat, his voice faltering.
“Why did
you return?” I ask, just to continue talking. Though I probably should keep my
big mouth shut. It’s the way he says five,
like the word is cursed. I shouldn’t press him for this.
“I was in
an accident. Needed to come back and recuperate.” He strokes down the fade on
the side of his head, his gaze focused on the bench. “That’s all I’d like to
say about that, if you don’t mind?”
“Of course.
I’m sorry I pried. Blame it on East Coast blunt audacity.” The sound of my
laugh is hollow. I should quit while I’m ahead. One month in hibernation and
I’ve completely forgotten how to interact with people.
“Thanks for fixing the bench.” I wave
awkwardly then turn away, giving him an easy out.
“No
problem, but do you want to take that tour now?”
“Huh?”
“You’re Lillian’s
daughter, right? I’m Jack. I’m giving you a tour.”
Oh, just
fuck my life. Really? I cannot spend one more second in this man’s company.
“Oh, Jack.
Right. You know what? I’m okay. I think I’ll stay here for a little while
longer. I can walk around myself.”
“Listen, if
you’re gonna be working here you need to get familiar with the park. The kids
can be a little rambunctious, and they’ve been known to wander off.”
“I can look
at a map and find my way around. Thanks.”
He crosses
his arms, challenging me.
“Those maps
don’t show areas like this one, the little hiding spots. Best trees to climb.
It’s a big garden. And that’s not even part of the main park.”
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t
think you are.”
“That’s not
your decision to make.”
“Opal is my
boss. She told me to give you a tour. That’s what I’m gonna do.”
My defenses
shoot up.
“Whether I
like it or not?”
His tone
gentles.
“Would you
rather walk around a garden on a beautiful day with me, or stand here, talking
to a bench?”
Oh, it is
on.
“Fine.” I
stomp past him. “If you ever tell anyone about that I will put cacti in your
utility belt pockets.”
“Ouch.” He
cuts me off and faces me, walking backward, sidestepping around roots he can’t
even see. “I’ve never met a person so worked up over a tour before. Do you have
something against trees? Nature? Instructional experiences?”
“Just show
me what you need to show me,” I grumble as we reach the main path and all the
pedestrians.
“Sure.”
“Jack!” An
older woman with curly black hair and a gap-tooth smile encompasses Jack from
behind in a big hug. “How are you, darling?”
“Great,
Marianne.” He turns to face her, bending low to give her a kiss on the cheek.
“How are you? How are the grandkids?”
“Wonderful.
They keep asking when you’re going to babysit again. You’re their favorite.”
“That’s
only because I let them eat ice cream for dinner and chow mein for dessert.
Don’t tell their parents.”
“Ha, you
gotta spoil them sometimes.” She elbows him playfully, clearly smitten. “We’re
having a cookout next Sunday. Stop by for a bite.”
“I will,
thank you. Tell the kids to be good for their folks. Or at least as good as I
would be.”
Marianne
chuckles and waves him off, shaking her head but charmed.
I get it.
He’s good looking. His grin is infectious. He put his hand on her shoulder so
gently, yet full of good-natured warmth. Who wouldn’t be affected by that?
Only
someone with a dead heart.
“Sorry
about that, I know most of the regulars here.”
Jack takes
me to the sectioned parts of the garden, but he doesn’t tell me about the trees
or the different Latin names of the flora as another tour guide might. Instead
he points out hiding places, tricky places that visitors have tripped, plants
that might be harmful to kids with sensitive skin. His attention to detail and
familiarity with the garden is impressive, but he’s formal, never gives me the
bright smile Marianne or any of the other people known to him are afforded. And
there are a lot of people that stop to chat with the amiable Jack.
Like every
single person that crosses our path.
Toward the
end of our tour, I’m a bit frustrated by all the interruptions.
“Are you
the mayor of the Botanical Gardens, or something? How do you know all these
people?”
He laughs,
shaking his head.
“What?”
“Your Mom
calls me the town mayor sometimes. Says I know everything about everyone.” He
shrugs like a good old boy. “I like getting to know people, hearing stories
from their past, their hopes and dreams. Connecting to people on a level
beneath the surface is a special gift. One I’ll always treasure and respect.
The least I can do is provide human connection.” His mouth tightens as he says,
“If they want it.”
A hot
bitterness wells up inside me, the great tide threatening to pull me under. I
take a deep breath, think of coffee and loud subway trains. Times Square at
Christmas. Sangria with Sophie. Playing hooky with my best friend, Adele.
Moments in my life I love and miss…but where they used to bring comfort, now
all I feel is loss.
God, I made
such a mistake coming here. There’s nothing I can connect with. Nothing to keep
me from drowning.
“Want to
talk about it?” he asks as the silence between us grows tense.
“There’s
nothing to talk about.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Because
I’m a really good listener.” He dips his head, trying to get me to look at him.
“You’re
also annoyingly persistent.”
We walk a
bit longer, in silence this time. When I start to recognize where we are I
decide to make my escape. Being around someone so shockingly open is like razor
blades on my skin, and he is too nice to say he doesn’t want to be near someone
as rude and closed off as I am.
“Thanks for
the tour. I can find my way back from here.”
“Wait—”
