believe it at first, but that’s what he’s been doing all week.”
Mom sighs and relaxes into her pillows. “I still remember the first time you told us about him, and I thought he’d be a pretentious young man. He kind of proved me right toward the end, but I think there’s still hope for him.”
“Don’t hold out too much. He’s on his phone whenever the girls are occupied and I heard him taking some conference calls in the middle of the night.”
“I wish he’d get his head straight.” Dad sets a glass of water on the bedside table.
I use it as an excuse to extract myself from this conversation. “Well, I’d better get out and weed. I have to stop at Target before I head home.”
I tie my hair in a messy bun on the way to the backyard shed, unable to escape the sensation that this is too good to be true. Simon won’t be around that long. The siren call of work and living up to his brother’s legacy will lure him away.
But it hasn’t yet and I’m free to help Mom. I find her gardening gloves and the rest of her supplies. Selecting a trowel and the claw tool, I head out to her coveted gardens. Evaluating the job and the way the weeds seemed to mutate after a nice rain, I pick a side to start on.
Dad meets me at the garden with a hoe.
“I’ve got it, Dad. You have other things to do.”
“I need some fresh air after being stuck in the hospital for so many days. And if I don’t try to save these jalapeño plants, she won’t be able to hand them out like candy at the church social this fall.”
Mom’s garden is more than a hobby. It’s an obsession. She pickles and cans, and everyone that passes her during preserving season gets a jar of something from the garden. I usually help her. I plan to help her this year, and I’ve started fortifying myself for the emotions it’s going to bring up.
Last year was when I decided over a boiling pot of salsa that I couldn’t do it anymore. The girls and I stayed overnight to help can applesauce and apple pie filling the next day, staying away the whole weekend—and Simon didn’t notice. He pulled late nights at the office and used up all the individual freezer meals I made him. When we returned home, I had a full night of prepping him another week’s worth of meals for the office, confirming my decision to look up a divorce lawyer the next day.
I rip out a weed. Then another and another, until sweat drips down my face. Dad’s white legs come into view. He hoed through the rhubarb and cleared around the larger and more obvious plants like the squash.
“Want to tell me what’s really going on with you and Simon?”
I sit back on my heels and squint up at him. A chemical woodsy smell rolls off him. Bug spray. I probably have mosquito bites all over.
The incessant itching will take my mind off other, much more dangerous feelings, tonight in bed when my body is well aware that my ex is under the same roof. Maybe if he wasn’t so good in bed, I would’ve left him sooner. Just another reason I can’t trust myself around him.
“There’s nothing to tell. He took off work and is carrying the weight around the house so I can help Mom. I’m even getting all caught up on my training so I can start my own business.” My parents, Aleah, and Rachel are the only ones I’ve told about Let Me Assist You.
Simon was the last to know.
“That’s awesome.” Dad’s look is the same one he got in high school when I ran the car out of way more gas than it took to get to the grocery store. “Then what?”
“Then he goes back to work and I start my own business.”
“There’s no chance that you two…”
“Nope. He’s still married to the company.” I wipe my forehead with the back of my wrist. The fingers of my gloves are black but I’d need to garden for another eight hours before I ripped enough weeds to straighten out half my thoughts.
“Then you don’t think he’s started dating?”
“He works too much to meet anyone. I don’t think he’s involved with his assistant.” I didn’t plan to say that. I’m not aware of when I accepted that there’s nothing with him and Helena, but he’s too