I Can Fix That

“Don’t worry. If I had bad intentions with you, you’d know it.” His dark voice gave me shivers and I wanted to hear what his bad intentions included, but I was distracted by a passing sign. Flower Picking Garden.

We pulled into the dirt road that lay beside the wooden structure. My chest rose and fell quickly, thinking of being here.

“Wait—really?” He remembered. That night in the bar, he remembered something so casual and simple, and yet he took in every word and knew this was exactly where I would want to go.

“Tell me about your grandmother, what was she like?” I sighed in remembrance.

“She was everything. Kind, strong, wise, beautiful, loving, passionate, and a little sassy. Just everything. She was the type of lady who went to church every Sunday and loved harder than anyone. But she also wasn’t afraid to pop you on the behind with a wooden spoon for having an attitude.”

Grant chuckled. “She sounds like you. Is that why she left you the house? Because you were so much like her?” I hadn’t really thought of it that way.

“I’m not sure, we certainly spent the most time together. She used to take me to this small flower field in the spring where you could pick your own flowers. She would hold my vase of water and watch me twirl around in the field of tulips. I would spend hours in there, running and finding every perfect flower till I was exhausted and could barely stand. I would always sleep on the way home and then we would spend the afternoon arranging them and placing them on her windowsill. It was one of my favorite days of the year, and I like to think it was hers too. She never did it with anyone else, just me. It always made me feel like we weren’t just family, but close friends. She would play my music on the drive, even though she hated it, and when we got there we would walk through the tulips and daisies till I was covered in flowers.”

He listened intently, “I’m sure you miss that.”

I nodded. “More than anything.”

I blinked away the tears that threatened to fall.

“I knew you would want to go back. I know it’s not the one she took you to, but maybe it will be just as good.” I tried to ignore the tears that trickled down my cheek, looking out the window—scared that if I looked him in the eye I would confess my love for him unexpectedly.

He pulled into a parking spot and the sweet symphony of children running through the field filled my ears. Grant grabbed my chin and pulled my face to his, so I could no longer ignore his longing stare.

“Is this okay, June? I just—I thought you’d like it. You know since you said you missed those days with her. Is it too much? I’ll take you home right now, honey, just tell me. Do you think it’s going to be too har—”

I cut off his rambling by sealing my lips on his, my hands wrapped in his shirt and pulling him close. He stilled in shock, but soon settled in my embrace and kissed me back. I pull back and look at his charming eyes.

“It’s perfect, Grant. Thank you.” He had a gradual smile on his lips and turned the truck off.