The Truth about Us

by Janet Gurtler

“A clean plant is a happy plant,” I tell it.

  I do my rounds, and I’m about to put my tools away when I spot an ivy I’ve never noticed before, tucked away in a corner. It’s looks like a newer plant, but it’s wilted and close to dying. I clip and wash the leaves, chattering to it the whole time. “Come on, little guy. Give it your all. You can do it,” I tell it.

  “You talk to plants?”

  I jump and look behind me. Flynn is only a few feet away. His dark eyes watch me, sparkling with amusement. My heart pitter-patters, noticing how he wears the shit out of his jeans and a plain black T-shirt.

  “I didn’t hear you come in.” Now that his presence is known, it overtakes the room.

  He walks closer, and I inhale deeply to try and get my thumping heart under control.

  “You were giving that plant shit.” He walks up beside me and reaches out to touch the plant.

  “No, I was giving the plant encouragement,” I tell him. “Big difference.” My skin tingles, and everything in the greenhouse seems more alive and brighter. I clip another leaf, smile at it, and start gathering the tools to put them back in the cupboard.

  “How’d you get in here?” I ask, knowing Wilf locked the door.

  Flynn dangles a key off his finger and lifts it to show me. “Stella keeps an extra key in her office. Wilf lets me come here alone sometimes. I like the air.” He glances at me. “Weird?”

  “Not weird. Green thumb.” I hold my thumb up in the air and examine it. “At least it used to be.”

  “Wilf told me.” He looks at the miniature hoe I’m holding. “You’re pretty handy with a hoe?” Flynn asks.

  “Kyle said you were too.” I place my hand over my mouth and giggle at my own joke.

  “Very funny.” He pushes back his bangs. “I really hope Kyle has no idea what a ho is.” Flynn helps me carry a few things back to the cupboard.

  I smile. “Doubtful. Not yet.” I stand on my tiptoes to place tools back in the cupboard. “I didn’t see you at lunch today.”

  “You noticed?”

  My cheeks warm. He obviously doesn’t know my entire shift revolves around whether he shows up or not.

  “My mom was off work today, so we ate at home.”

  “Cool,” I say.

  “I came by to do something for Stella, but she didn’t need me. She told me you were back here. I wanted to say hi before I left.”

  I nod, thrilled he thought about me and wanted to check in.

  He nods. “So. Hi.”

  “Hi.” I smile and tuck the last tool in the cupboard, press my lips tight, and shut the doors. I have no idea what to say next. The silence gets louder, and I search for something that doesn’t sound stupid. “I’m glad you came.”

  He tilts his head. The hair on my arms stands at attention. “Do I make you nervous?” he asks. And then he grins. Slowly.

  “No,” I lie, barely able to breathe.

  “I don’t know about that,” he says. It sounds like a challenge.

  “About what?” I can’t focus. I don’t know where to look or what to do with my hands.

  “I make you nervous,” he says. His voice is low, almost a whisper.

  My cheeks burn and I stare at him, mesmerized. He licks his bottom lip. The air between us sparks.

  My face gets hotter. I remember what Mom used to say about Dad before she retreated into her shell. “We don’t always choose the ones we fall for. Sometimes the chemistry chooses us.”

  Is that what this is? Chemistry? Because it feels wonderful. And also scares the shit out of me. It’s more real than anything I’ve felt lately. And dangerous. I like it.

  He steps closer. “My mom and Kyle are waiting. I have to go.” He says it softly, and we stare at each other. “Remember my friend, Braxton?” he asks out of the blue.

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  “You into him?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  He smiles. “Good, ’cause he’s trying to find you. I haven’t told him I’ve got you hidden away. See you.” With a wave, he walks out of the greenhouse.

  A few minutes later, Wilf returns. I’m still standing in one spot, not moving, reliving the entire conversation over and over in my head.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Wilf asks as he walks over to inspect the azaleas. “You look like the bird that got the worm.” He touches the plant and then looks at me and coughs into his long-sleeved shirt. “These look much better. Thanks.”

  “You feeling okay, Wilf?” I ask and snap out of my spell.

  “I’m not about to keel over, if that’s what you’re asking.” His tone is gruff. “What about you?”

  “Me? I’m fine. And you’re too cranky to keel over.” I grab a water spray bottle and mist him.

  He wipes the water away and stares at me with a sour expression, but it quickly disappears into a grin. “Cheeky,” he says. “You’re cheeky. My Rhea was cheeky too.” He pauses. “Your googly eyes have anything to do with Flynn?”

  I don’t answer him but instead overspray a nearby pot of flowers.

  “Jess?”

  Something in his voice makes me stop and look at him.

  “Will you look after Rhea’s azaleas? When I’m gone?” He coughs, and outside the greenhouse, a gust of wind rattles the cover.

  I stop spraying. “You planning on going somewhere, Wilf?” I ask quietly. The cough concerns me.

  “We’re all going somewhere, Chickadee,” he says.

  It’s quiet between us, and I walk over to the plant he’s pretending to inspect. “I will look after Rhea’s azaleas,” I promise him.

  He nods, and then his eyes twinkle as he looks at something behind me. “I see I’m not the only one with a crush on the new girl,” he says.

  I turn to look. Flynn is back. He’s standing right behind me.

  “I, uh…” Flynn glances at Wilf and then back at me. “My mom decided to take Kyle to the park and doesn’t need me. I’m not doing anything, so I thought I’d come back and see when you’re done here, if you could…hang out?”

  “Is that really the proper way to ask young ladies for dates these days?” Wilf grumbles.

  I shoot him a look meant to silence him.

  Flynn smiles though, and then he winks at me and bows at the waist. “Pardon me, madam. Would you care to join me at a waltz convention? Or shall I ask your father’s permission first?” He uses a fake accent that is nothing like English.

  I snort. Wilf rolls his eyes. “Very funny. That’s not even close.”

  “You have any suggestions?”

  Wilf reaches into his pants pocket and takes out a money clip. He pulls off a twenty-dollar bill and walks forward to hand it to Flynn. But Flynn puts both hands up in the air and steps away from it.

  “For God’s sake, take the money and the girl for an ice cream,” Wilf says. “There’s a parlor a couple of streets over. You can walk from here.”

  “I’m not taking your money, Wilf,” Flynn says.

  “It’s not a crime, kid,” he says. “I couldn’t afford to take my Rhea anywhere when I started courting her. You’ve been working your butt off in this place. Take the money and take the girl. You’re doing me a favor. She’s always in my hair.”

  I giggle. They both look at me. “You said courting,” I point out. “You have to admit, that’s kind of funny.”

  “Go on,” Wilf says. “See what I mean? She’s cheeky. You really are doing me a favor. I need some peace and quiet already.” He takes Flynn’s hand and puts the money in it. “Ice cream,” he says. “Go.”

  “So then you’re paying him to get me out of your hair?” I ask Wilf.

  He shrugs and turns his back on us. “Pretty much. Go on, you two. Git.”

  I shake my head at Flynn but smile. “Thanks, Wilf. I like ice cream.”


  “Everyone likes ice cream,” he mumbles.

  “Thanks.” Flynn’s cheeks are red, but he seems to know better than to try and give the money back. He holds out his hand. “After you.”

  “Wow,” I say to Flynn when we’re outside the greenhouse. “He just bribed you to make me go away.”

  Flynn smiles. “You know he’s half in love with you. How come all the guys I know are half in love with you?”

  I laugh. “I’m the granddaughter Wilf never wanted.”

  “What about my brother? Or Braxton.”

  I giggle like a lunatic, enjoying the attention, and wish we could slip out the side exit instead of going back to the New Beginnings building. I haven’t signed out from my shift though, and it’s not worth a tongue-lashing from Stella. Besides that, I have to grab my purse.

  I check out while Flynn waits and swing my purse over my shoulder as we walk out the front of the building.

  “Hey, Jess,” a man calls. I glance over. It’s John. He likes dessert, and I always make sure he gets the biggest slices.

  “Hey, Chickadee,” another man calls. Ian. He likes to talk and can barely sit still long enough to eat a meal. He gives me a thumbs-up.

  “The ice cream place is this way,” Flynn says. He’s taller than me, and it makes me feel small and safe, walking beside him. We pass old brick buildings that look like offices.

  “Wilf only pretends to be cranky,” I say. “Inside, he’s a marshmallow.”

  “I know. He’s been at this place the whole time we’ve been coming,” Flynn says. “I like him a lot.”

  We’re both quiet. The shelter hangs between us.

  “My granddad was like him,” Flynn says. “Cranky on the outside. But he was pretty awesome to me. So is Wilf.”

  “You have any other grandparents?” I ask.

  “No. My mom’s parents were in China. I never met them. Only my dad’s dad. He used to come and visit me. After my dad died. And then not so long after, he died too.” He shrugs. “What about you?”

  “No. I never met them. My mom’s parents died when she was young. I never heard great things about my dad’s parents.”

  I remember when I was younger and my dad called someone a racial slur. I got mad and he apologized, but later he sat me down and told me he was still fighting how he grew up, what his grandpa used to call people. Nasty stuff. It scared me that as much as he tried not to let it, some of the prejudices were passed down to him. I worried some slipped into me. Even now, some thoughts about people at the shelter slip inside my privileged head and shame me.

  Flynn and I turn a corner, and the buildings get noticeably nicer. This part of town is trendier now with eclectic shops and restaurants. A lot of artists and creative people have moved into the area.

  “How old were you?” I ask softly. “When your dad died?

  “Five.”

  “Sorry,” I say, but it sounds insignificant. There should be something better to say. “That’s really sad. Do you remember him?”

  “I have some good memories.” He holds up his wrist and the bracelet dangles from it. “I wear this to remember him.”

  I look at it again. It’s stainless steel. With the red medic alert symbol.

  “He had diabetes. Went into shock. After he died, my mom was so sad. Lonely. He left her money, but my stepdad moved in fast.” He frowns.

  I gnaw my bottom lip. “He was really bad?”

  “He never beat me up or anything. But he was just a jerk. He didn’t work and totally screwed my mom over. I feel bad for Kyle, cause he’s his dad, and there’s nothing he can do to change that.” He shrugs. “At least for me, he isn’t blood. The best thing for all of us is to never hear from him again. I’m sure he’s hooked up with someone new to sponge off of. I hope for Kyle’s sake he stays away.”

  “That’s tough.”

  “Yeah. But we’ll be okay. You know? It might take a while, but my mom works hard.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say again.

  “Don’t be. That’s life. Does it bother you? That my family has no money?”

  I frown and shake my head back and forth. “No.”

  He watches me but says nothing, and then we reach a corner and he stops. He looks down the street. “Ice cream shop, this way.” He looks back at me and brushes his finger against my cheek. “Dirt,” he says. “From the greenhouse.”

  He holds out his hand for me, and a shiver scurries down my back. “This okay?” he asks.

  Um, yes. I place my hand in his, and my whole body freaks out while I try to keep my face neutral.

  “You really like it in there, hey?” He starts to walk again.

  “Uh, where?” I ask. I have no idea what we’re talking about anymore.

  “The greenhouse.”

  I nod. “Yeah, I do. I used to have a garden at home. With my mom.”

  “Really? I used to work in the garden with my mom sometimes when I was a kid. I loved the worms and the slugs, but sometimes I liked flowers too. Not very manly, right?”

  I’m not sure he isn’t messing with me.

  “Seriously?”

  “Well, the flowers were mostly dandelions, but I was the master of blowing the fuzz off to spread their growth. Our neighbors probably hated me.” He pauses. “I used to pick dandelions and give them to my mom, and she’d put them in her hair. As if they were beautiful flowers from Hawaii or something.” He grins. “That asshole she married hated it and made me stop. Kyle never got to pick flowers.”

  He drops my hand and darts off to a patch of green grass in front of a store and picks up a dandelion. Then he walks back and presents it to me.

  I laugh but take it and tuck it behind my ear.

  “You look nice with weeds behind your ears.” We tease each other until we reach the ice cream shop and walk inside.

  There are rows of large white buckets with all kinds of ice cream on display, but I don’t even have to look to make my decision. I have the same flavor every time.

  “Mint chocolate chip,” I tell Flynn.

  “Mmm.”

  He picks strawberry. Not fancy. We smile at each other as he hands me my cone.

  “You do know, if you agree to another date with me, I won’t be able to give you things the guys from your neighborhood can,” he tells me in mock seriousness as he pays.

  “You mean lies, attitude, and trash talk?”

  He laughs. “I meant expensive dates in expensive cars.” He looks down at his feet and then up at me again, almost shy.

  “I don’t care about that stuff,” I tell him. At least not anymore. I like him. Not what he has.

  “Yeah?” He bites off a chunk of ice cream from his cone, watching me. “You sure?”

  We walk outside the ice cream store and sit on the brick window ledge. I lick at my ice cream, and the minty flavor dances on my taste buds. “I like talking to you. I’ve never been able to…talk to a guy like this. Like with you.”

  He nods but he doesn’t change his expression, just watches me thoughtfully while he devours his ice cream. “Me neither.”

  “You’re never been able to talk to a guy like this?” I joke.

  He smiles. “You’re sure you’re not embarrassed to be seen with me? A guy from the shelter?” He says it lightly, but it’s obvious he means it.

  “Not even a little.”

  He finishes off the last of his ice cream cone while I’m still licking mine fast to keep it from melting in the midday sun.

  “I haven’t been exactly perfect the last couple of years,” I tell him. “You might hear some stuff about me. I mean, if we go out again.” I duck my head.

  “I don’t listen to trash talk,” he says and laughs. “Besides, I make my own opinions about people. And I’d like to. Go out again.”

  “Me too.” The rest of my ice cream co
uld melt on my cheeks they’re so warm.

  He smiles down at the ground. “I don’t have a squeaky clean past either, Jess. And you know lots of people look down their noses at me. At my family.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “My family has problems of their own.”

  I frown though, thinking of Nance and her talk about summer flings. And the boys we’re supposed to be dating next year.

  No. It doesn’t matter. Not if I don’t let it.

  chapter eleven

  Later than night I run into my dad in the hallway. He follows me to my bedroom and doesn’t come in, but his head almost touches the top of the doorframe. “How are things?” he asks, his voice gruff. “You’re doing okay working at the shelter?”

  “Fine,” I tell him as I sit on my bed, not wanting to sound too enthusiastic in case he figures out something about Flynn. I used to believe he could read my thoughts. Of course, I grew up and learned he’s human, just like everyone else.

  “It’s for your own good,” he says. He’s not good at this. This kind of thing was always Mom’s job.

  I pick up a pillow and hug it close. “Yeah,” I say. I’m not going to make it any easier. Or admit that maybe he’s right.

  He waits for me to say more, but I’ve been able to match his silent treatment without cracking for a few years now.

  “Okay,” he finally says. “Well, I’m traveling a lot this month, so, you know, make sure you keep an eye on your mom too.”

  He walks away, and a flood of sadness brings unexpected tears to my eyes. The sadness curdles into anger though. It’s just another dose of rejection, the way he always walks away from me. I blink, hating that I still hope for more.

  I think about telling him about taking Mom for a walk. It would please him. It’s news. But he doesn’t turn around, so I let him go and don’t say anything at all.

  • • •

  Flynn doesn’t show up at New Beginnings the next day, and it makes me curse my dad again for cutting me off from the world by taking away my phone. There’s no way to reach Flynn. No way to find out where he is. Talk to him.

  Wilf isn’t in either, and I miss him too. Thing only get worse when Sunny does her best to cloud my day, and then to top it off, when I ask Stella for help for the lunch service, she seems pissed with me, and I don’t even know why. My chest is hollow as I serve my first tables lunch until I spot Martha. She stands and twirls around to show off a new overcoat. “I got it here,” she tells me. “Do you like it?”