Where Wildflowers Grow

Evie

The moving truck rolled into Briar Ridge just past noon. Gravel popped beneath the tires as it pulled into the driveway, Evie's car was right behind it. She put the car in park and just sat there for a moment, taking it all in.

She hadn't done a walkthrough. Four photos on a listing site, a phone call with the realtor and a leap of faith she couldn't quite explain to anyone, least of all herself. So this was it. This was the first time she looked at the house in person.

The house was small, a single-story cottage with faded cream siding and sage-green shutters worn down by the years. A narrow porch stretched across the front, just wide enough for two rocking chairs. In one of its corners sat a chipped clay flowerpot overflowing with lavender that somehow continued to thrive despite no one tending to it.

The white railing was peeling in some places. One of the porch steps dipped a little in the middle. Evie noticed these small imperfections, already putting together a small to-do list in her head.

Her eyes moved to the yard. It wasn't manicured, wasn't trying to be. Clovers threaded through the grass and daisies clustered near the mailbox alongside loose constellations of buttercups, and along the fence, wildflowers bloomed wherever they pleased. Unhurried, unbothered, answering to no one.

Something in her chest loosened at the sight of them. She hadn't expected that. She hadn't expected any of this, really. The more she looked, the more she could picture them being happy here.

In the far corner of the yard, a maple tree spread wide over the roofline, its branches swaying gently in the breeze as if it was saying hello. Beneath it hung a wooden swing, the rope faded but the seat was still solid, still level, still there.

In the backseat, Lily pressed her face to the window.

“So pretty.” Lily said as she wiggled excitedly in her car seat. If she hadn't still been strapped into it, Evie was sure she would’ve been already at the fence line studying the flowers.

By the time Evie had Lily unbuckled, and out from the car seat, Marcus was already standing by the porch, his face unreadable as he looked at the house. Just as she thought Lily went straight to the wildflowers by the fence, her one floppy-eared bunny under her arm, and Trucky, her blue monster truck toy clutched in her other hand. Evie went to stand next to Marcus, still keeping Lily in her sight.

“What do you think?” She asked him.

“Not as bad as I thought.” He looked at her, then his gaze too went to Lily, who was now carefully pushing her two favorite toys on the swing.

Marcus had arrived at the Harrisons’ place two months after she had, all elbows and guarded silence. At first, he’d been just another foster kid sleeping down the hall. Somewhere between whispered jokes after lights-out, birthdays around the same kitchen table, and years that slipped by faster than either of them realized, he’d become her brother in every way that mattered.

So when Evie first told Marcus about her impulsive decision to move to this far-off small town of Briar Ridge, he thought her crazy. Especially so, after learning that she bought the house almost sight unseen, and planned to sell her furniture because all the moving companies she called were way over her budget.

He'd given her the look—the one she'd known since they were teenagers, the calm, unwavering one that meant he'd already decided he was going to help whether she wanted it or not, and that was it. No discussion, no negotiation, just Marcus showing up two weeks later with the keys in his hand.

She hadn’t argued. She’d learned not to, with Marcus, when it came to this particular kind of help. The kind he gave with both hands and no words attached. She hadn’t asked where he got the truck from, he wouldn't have told her anyway.

Through the long afternoon he’d moved without stopping. Box after box, furniture carried in the particular silence of someone who had decided the work would stand in for the words. His shirt had gone dark between the shoulders hours ago. By the time the truck stood empty at the curb, he was moving with the careful, slightly too-deliberate pace of a body that had used itself up and was running on stubbornness alone.

Evie wasn’t much better. Her lower back had settled into a dull, grinding ache somewhere around the third hour, and she stopped noticing the sweat clinging to her skin.

Marcus had dragged the flat box into the bedroom and was sitting cross-legged on the bare floor, the instruction sheet spread across his knee. He’d already sorted the hardware into four neat little piles before he’d started. That was Marcus – bolts with bolts, washers with washers, nothing left to chance.

Evie listened to the small, rhythmic sounds drifting down the hallway. The soft clink of metal. The creak of the Allen key turning.

She pulled the cooler bag onto the now clean counter and took stock. Half a loaf of bread, a wedge of cheddar she’d wrapped back in its paper, three slices of ham that had survived the trip better than either of them.

Lily was on the floor beside the counter, her blue monster truck parked carefully against the baseboard. Her plate of goldfish crackers had been arranged with great intentions and then immediately abandoned to chaos, a trail of orange crumbs leading from the kitchen to the rug where she migrated, both cheeks stuffed, crunching contentedly as she leafed through her picture book. She looked like a small, cheerful chipmunk who had given up on winter entirely.

“You want mustard?” She called.

A pause.

“Do we have mustard?”

She checked the cooler.

“No.”

“Then no.”

She smiled despite herself.

Lily looked up at the exchange, then with a little giggle went back to her picture book.

She cut the sandwiches in half, set Marcus's share on a paper plate, and carried it down the hall. He didn't look up when she placed it beside him, but he reached for it automatically.

“Should hold together,” he said, tightening another bolt.

“Good.” She leaned against the door frame and took a bite of her own sandwich. “I'd rather my first night in this house didn't end on the floor.”

One corner of Marcus's mouth twitched, as though he was remembering the time he'd loosened the bolts on her bed after one of their spectacular arguments. She'd woken up in a tangled heap on the floor, and he'd laughed so hard he could barely apologize.

Marcus worked and ate at the same time, as he'd always done, drifting between the two without ceremony. She watched him slot the side rail into the headboard with a low, satisfying click.

“Lily's going to want to jump on that the second she sees it.”

“Yeah,” he said. “She is.”

Neither of them felt the need to fill the silence.

A knock echoed through the house.

Marcus glanced toward the hallway.

“Are you expecting somebody?”

Evie frowned. “No.”

She wiped her hands on her jeans, making sure Lily was still happily occupied on the living room rug, then crossed the room.

She opened the door.

No one.

Only the warm evening air and a covered plate resting on the porch railing.

She glanced toward the street, but whoever had been there was already gone.

Evie picked up the plate and carried it inside, setting it on the counter beside the cooler. Curious, she lifted the tea towel covering it.

Cornbread.

Still slightly warm.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Whoever had left it had probably seen the moving truck and guessed they wouldn't feel much like cooking. It would make a good breakfast in the morning.

She covered the plate again and tucked it into the refrigerator before heading back to Marcus.

By the time the last bolt was tightened, Marcus set the Allen key aside and pressed both palms firmly against the mattress platform, testing it with his weight. It didn't budge.

He gave a single nod.

"Now for the real test."

Lily had been hovering in the doorway for the last few minutes, barely containing herself while they wrestled the mattress into place. The moment Marcus stepped back, she scrambled onto the bed with a delighted squeal and gave an experimental bounce.

Then another.

And another.

The mattress held.

Marcus folded his arms, watching her with quiet satisfaction. "I'd say it passed."

Lily giggled and launched herself into one more exuberant jump before collapsing onto the mattress in a heap, her bunny tucked beneath one arm and Trucky clutched triumphantly in the other.

Evie laughed, warmth spreading through the ache in her back.

"Looks like we have our official seal of approval."

***

With the last box finally inside, they stood together on the porch without saying much. Neither of them seemed to know how to say goodbye.

For thirteen years, there had never really been a goodbye between them. Marcus had been one of the few constants in her life. Houses changed. Jobs changed. People came and went. Somehow, they'd always remained within reach of each other. There had always been a short drive between them, a spare key tucked away for emergencies, and the quiet comfort of knowing the other was never far.

Now there would be six hours of highway between them instead.

The evening smelled of warm asphalt, pine, and the dust of a long day's work.

Marcus pulled off his cap and turned it once through his hands, a habit he'd never managed to shake whenever he didn't know what else to do with them.

"Well..."

He looked toward the truck instead of at her.

"Guess I'd better get going."

"Are you sure you don't want to wait until morning?" Evie asked. "You could get a proper night's sleep before driving back."

He shook his head.

"I'm sure. I told the guy I'd have the truck back tomorrow evening. Besides..." He glanced toward the darkening road. "If I leave now, I'll be home before it gets too late."

She knew there wasn't much point arguing. Once Marcus had made up his mind, it was made.

Still, she wished he wasn't leaving.

Evie nodded.

Neither of them moved.

Finally, he cleared his throat.

“Call me when you get settled.”

Evie stepped forward and wrapped both arms around him, holding him tighter than she ever had before. There was no space between them, her chin resting against his shoulder for the briefest heartbeat.

He went still.

A moment later, his arms came around her, holding her just as tightly.

When they finally pulled apart, Marcus cleared his throat and crouched in front of Lily.

She looked at him with wide, curious eyes, her small hand finding his for just a moment.

He reached out and gently flicked the tip of her nose.

"Be good for your mama, Ladybug."

"I will."

"I know you will."

He smoothed one of her dark curls back from her forehead before standing.

He met Evie's eyes.

"I'm only a phone call away."

"I know."

She watched the truck rumble down Elm Street, its red taillights shrinking until the road curved and the trees swallowed them whole.

She stood on the porch a moment longer than she needed to.

Then there was only the house behind her, its front door still standing open, Lily warm and sleepy against her hip, and the first crickets beginning their evening chorus.