Hunter has the living room cleared out when I get back downstairs freshly showered with damp hair dripping down my blouse. I toweled it as dry as I could get it, but I swear my hair is a damn sponge. 

I glance around one more time, making sure I didn't forget anything, I then toss the keys on the island and hurry outside. I find Hunter standing in the driveway, facing the large rose garden that decorates the front of our house. I step up alongside him, my eyes drifting off as I gaze at the reds, pinks, and purples.

"They're beautiful, Darlin." Hunter comments.

"Thanks, but I hate them."

"Get out of here." He glances at me with a bewildered expression. "The girl that goes running through the orchard barefoot, hugging every tree, does not hate her pretty rose garden."

"I don't hug trees," I mutter, to which he arches an eyebrow.

"Anymore," I add.

This was something silly my mama and I started when I was a little girl; at the start of the season, we were walking the orchard, and my dad told us how plants could feel the energy we put out. He then said, so always give the trees your love, Kinsey; that's how we get a good harvest. I took it literally and started hugging them, one by one. Soon enough, Mama joined in while Dad had a good hearty laugh.  It became a thing after that, and I kept doing it even as a teen.

They deserve the love, though; those apples are the best thing on the planet, and I'm not just saying that cause their ours. 

"Maybe hate is a strong word, but-" I look at them with disdain.

"But what?"

"I didn't want the roses. To be honest, I didn't want any of this." I motion to the large house I'd just left.

"Never seemed like Kinsey Abbot to be living in some hoity-toity gated community," Hunter agrees.

Kinsey Abbot... so weird to go from your new name back to your old. I was Kinsey Rossi just a week ago. Twenty minutes at the courthouse, one form and twenty-three dollars was all it took to erase my husband's last name. It was... is just, weird.

"It was a compromise; the other top execs at Julian's work live here, and his boss lives here. His whole thing was, you got to look like you have money to make the money."

Hunter scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"I know, but his dream was to rise to the top of the sales team and make a ton of money. My dream was to get a small nest egg saved up and take over my parent's farm someday, preferably someday sooner than later, so when the time came to raise a family, we could do it in Sweet Haven."

"Those dreams don't align that well," Hunter says softly, an empathic look in his eyes.

"Damn right, they don't," I agree. "But we were young and newly married and had all the hope in the world. Julian had us on a ten-year plan. Said we'd have enough saved and double the value in the house by then, and we'd move to Sweet Haven and start a family. He could work remote and all would be great, seemed more than fair. We do what he wants for ten years, then what I want forever."

If only we weren't so naive, or if only I wasn't...

"I tried to be excited about everything when we came to look," I continue. "But I was so stressed; every little feature was extra money. Oh, you like those built-ins' great, just a few grand more. The island that'll be an extra twenty... she didn't stop. She was more of a succubus than a relator."

"God, I hate that shit; just build the house your client wants and charge them fairly for it," Hunter mutters irritably.

"When we got to the garden, I put my foot down on the rose upgrade. I wanted easy-to-maintain and cheap landscaping. I told Julian I wasn't going to be working full-time and dealing with fussy roses every night. He agreed or, he said he did."

"Then we moved in, and there they were." I look at the roses with narrowed eyes, it almost feels like they're smugly staring back at me.

"Did you lose your shit?"

"No," I admit, "I didn't, and I should have. He was so excited we were moving into our first house; I didn't want to ruin it with a fight. I asked him about them a few days later. He claimed he thought he said no, and it must've been a mistake."

"Liar!"

"Yeah, I know, and I didn't... I just flipping let it go, Hunter," I confess miserably. "I didn't want to start our life here with some fight over flowers, you know?"

I shake my head slowly as I let out a humorless laugh. "The thing is, I never stopped being mad about it. Every single time I was out here dealing with sawflies, and mites or even just watering and cleaning up dead leaves. I'd get mad all over again."

"But you never said anything?" Hunter questions. 

"No because more and more time kept passing and it felt too late, but...he knew. He knew because he'd come out and start kissin' up. He'd go on and on about what a great gardener I am. Whenever someone complimented the roses, he'd give me this look, like, see, told you so?  Over time he got annoyed that I was annoyed, but yet neither of us ever said a thing. It was this big... silent fight that never ended."

"Well damn it, Darlin. I hate the roses too, then," Hunter offers, an earnest look on his face; something about it makes me nearly smile despite the lump forming in my throat. "Should we burn 'em down?"

"Hunter!" I try to laugh, but instead, it comes out as a sob, and the next thing I know, I'm being pulled into his sturdy chest again. He holds me wordlessly, as he softly runs a big palm up and down my back. This will look pretty intimate to any passerby, but I just don't care.

"Facing all those things, the things you fought about and the things you swept under the rug, all of it, is going to hurt, hon, but you'll get past it. You're a tough girl, and you know it."

He pulls back a bit to peer into my eyes, and I could almost lose myself in the pools of blue empathy. "I'll be here for you; anything you need, okay?"

Ironic that the first one to break my heart is now the one that always helps me put it back together.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," I whisper.

"You'll never have to know that." He leans down to kiss my forehead.

As we part, I let out a long breath, feeling a little better, "Did you and Amber have silent fights like that?"

He is quiet for a moment as he seems to contemplate this. "Only about one thing...."

"What?"

"It – wasn't really a fight just," he stutters, his eyes darting away. "Never mind."

What was that about? I make a mental note to bring it up again some night, maybe after he's had a few whiskeys.

"Anyways, when we fought, it was anything but silent."

I frown at that; Hunter would never raise his voice to a woman, which means she was the loud one. Messed up if you ask me; he did everything for her, even built her the house she got to keep. I never got to know Amber well, but I could tell she didn't like me. No girl Hunter ever saw did, honestly.

But I don't get along with many women. Only had a few girlfriends through years. Maybe because I grew up on a farm and preferred playing in the dirt to playing with dolls, or maybe because I had two boys as my best friends, whatever it was, I never felt comfortable in a room full of women.

Speaking of — I glance across the street to see the bitchy bees gathering in Ellen's driveway.  They probably saw the hug, and now are buzzing over to get a better look.

"Great," I roll my eyes as they start walking down the driveway, all their beady little eyes looking curiously at us. "Let's get out of her before—"

Too late; it's like their yoga pants give them extra speed or something as they all came marching up the driveway.

"Kinsey! You're leaving already?"

"So soon!"

"I don't think she has a choice with foreclosure; I wouldn't know as it's never happened to me, obviously. Do they give you a court order to leave?"

"Ellen!" Mary scolds, but there is a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

"I was just curious."

"No offense, ma'am, but I think you should mind your own," Hunter says politely but in a no-nonsense way.

Ellen eyes him sharply as the rest are looking curiously at him.  "We are neighbors and friends. We chat often. Tell him, Kinsey." She glances at me and then back at him before I can say anything.  "I don't recall seeing you around before?"

"Kind of soon to be seeing someone," Diane says in a low mumble.

I can't take it anymore...  I just can't.  Fuck it all. I'm not going to see them again anyway.

"Well, of course, you haven't," I say casually. "Think I'd be dumb enough to flaunt my lover around the neighborhood?"

Diane gasps, her face paling as the other woman stared at me with a mix of confused and horrified looks. "Wha—"

"She's obviously not serious," Mary breathes out in a gasp.

"I don't know how anyone can make light of their marriage ending," Ellen says accusingly.

"It is what it is, not just me either. We both had lovers," I add, causing all their beady little eyes to look my way.

"Really?" Someone whispers while the others just look on speechlessly.

"Oh yeah. Lots of them. You know how these young couples are...so flighty."

Ellen's eyes narrow as I mock her tone and posture. 

"Kinsey, if we don't go now, we'll be late for the orgy," Hunter chimes in.

Fuck he's the best, Ellen's face is flushing redder than a tomato now.

"Right," I say slowly. "You never want to show up late to an orgy, trust me."

Hunter takes my hand and leads me to the truck as they speed-walk away, whispering loudly. I smile smugly as I climb up into the cab, and Hunter chuckles as he closes his door. He starts the truck and speeds out with a roar, making them all jump.

"So.... I have a question," Hunter says as his lips twist into a smirk.

"Which is?"

"What does happen if you're late to an orgy?"

I burst out laughing. "You tell me, you're the one that brought it up."

"And you were all, trust me," he teases, and now I'm laughing harder.

"Did you see how red she got?"

"She had it coming. All that needling, how can you stand her?"

"I can't! I don't know why she thinks we're friends. I do everything I can to avoid her." 

"You should've brought up your love of sex parties earlier."

He pulls out of the Eastland Heights gate, and I feel like I can finally breathe again.

We drive silently for a bit, and then I fill the quiet with my musings. "I bet it would be weird and awkward."

"What an orgy? Are you thinking about it? Jesus, Kinz—"

"No! I mean, I am, but not like that," I explain hastily. "Now I'm curious about what happens when someone is late. It's probably so awkward, showing up fully clothed, and everyone else is all naked and in place."

"In place?" Hunter tips his head back and laughs.

"Don't pick me on; I'm trying to keep it classy."

"Of course, given the topic, that's important." I look over and see he is grinning, and I realize I am too.

"So, do you think they knock or just walk in?" He contemplates.

"I mean, they'd have to just walk in," I say as if it's obvious. "Who's going to stop and go get the door?"

"Maybe they yell, come on in," he snickers.

"Hunter!" I cringe.

"Oh, come on, it was funny," he pokes my side, and I giggle despite it all.

"I can see it now," I muse. "They walk in and just start wandering around everyone like, maybe I could slide in here or.... No, maybe I'll wait in the corner...then finally, you know what, I'll just find the bar."

At this point, we both start laughing so hard that my eyes tear up, and I wipe them away. I feel... okay. I realize okay isn't what most would be happy with, but... I'm thirty-three, divorced after seven years, lost my house and my car, drowning in debt, and moving back in with my parents. Yet, right now, with my best friend beside me, laughing about the most ridiculous thing ever. I'm okay, and that is everything.

He takes a right towards an exit, and I glance at him curiously. "Where you going?"

"There are a few restaurants off this exit; you need to eat."

"I can eat when I get home."

"When's the last time you did?"

"I don't know," I groan.

"Then we're stopping to eat."

"Will you stop being all, Hunter about this?"

"Nope," He gets off on the exit and slows as we reach the town. "Burgers, seafood, or tacos?"

"Pasta."

"That's not one of the—" he stops when I pout at him and sighs as he maneuvers the truck back around to the main road. "Alright, let's find you a pasta place, then, Darlin."

Did I mention he's the best?

***

"Kinz, we're almost home," I wake up to a gentle nudge on my shoulder.

"Huh?" As I sit up, I rub my eyes as I glance at Hunter and remember where I am. "I fell asleep?"

"Soon as we hit the road."

What I get for eating that huge plate of mac and cheese, so worth it, though. It had bacon and breadcrumbs and wow...I could just drool at the memory, speaking of, I realize my chin is full of drool. I embarrassedly wipe at it while Hunter lets out a low chuckle.

"Why am I always a mess in front of you," I groan, brushing my hair from my face. It's sticky for some reason. Did I get cheese sauce in my hair?

"A beautiful mess," he murmurs without a hint of teasing in his tone. I glance over, but his eyes are focused on the road.

Damn it, if my heart doesn't jump just a tiny bit, sometimes it forgets I'm not fifteen anymore. Why did he always have to go and say stuff like that anyway? It's no wonder I was always full of stupid hope.   

We drive down the familiar long dirt road, and soon the apple trees come into view, and my heart warms with the feeling of home. They are already starting to flower, and I can't wait to walk the orchard and get a closer look.

The orchard goes on for several miles, and then we reach my dad's unused land, it's just a big field now, with yellowed grass and some random weeds that pop up. The Abbot family in the past had a huge vegetable garden in this field, but that stopped with my grandparents, when the local supermarket stopped purchasing from the farm.  When the apples are in season, we direct everyone to park in the field to come harvest.  

 I see Hunter's trailer parked in a corner of the field, a brown and white fifth-wheel style trailer. There's a picnic table and grill right outside, along with a fire pit. A handful of toys are scattered around, so his son must visit him here.

There's a big chicken coop towards the edge of the field near a huge red pull barn. Hunter and my dad built it about ten years ago to replace the old rundown barn that wasn't usable anymore.

That old white barn with the ugly brown shutters still sits there though, several feet behind the pull barn and a short jog from the house. I can see it in the distance, taunting me with bittersweet memories. I force my eyes away from it.

 Hunter pulls up the long dirt driveway, and our old farmhouse, with its peeling red paint and white shutters are a sight for sore eyes. Mama keeps a small vegetable garden in a raised planter box on the front porch, and everything is starting to green up nice.

The door to the house flies open, and Mama comes running out; her once golden blonde hair has turned mostly white. She has it tied back in a long braid wispy hairs frame her face, weathered from the years, with little lines around her eyes and mouth. She always says to embrace your wrinkles; they tell your life story.

I hop out of the truck and run up the steps to meet her as she wraps me up in her motherly embrace; she's petite like me but much curvier; her hugs were always soft and warm, and now it is no different.

"Oh, my sweet girl, I am so happy you are home," Mama says as she holds me tight, I take in her scent, a mix of vanilla, and honey, and cinnamon like the apple crisp she is so well known for.

I hear Dad's footsteps joining us and look up from her shoulder to see his warm grey eyes regarding me. His dark gray hair is as bushy and messy as ever, and he's got dirt and oil smudged all over his face and overalls.

"Kinsey Girl!" As he greets me, Mama reluctantly lets me go so I can run to him and pulls me in nice and tight. His familiar smell of dirt and cigar smoke is as perfect as my mama's sweet scent. I feel like a little girl with Daddy hugging the bad dream away.

"You're going to be just fine, girl. I promise you. And you know what, I sure am glad you're home. I need your help with the apple trees this year."

He doesn't, but he knows I don't want to feel like a burden, God, I love him, them. It's good to be home.

"Thanks for bringing her home, Hunter," Mama quickly hugs him.

"Of course, Betsy."

"How was the drive?" Dad asks Hunter as he releases me.

"Good, Franky. Took the road you suggested, and you were right avoided any rush hour."

My dad looks pleased with that, the two of them are close, best friends in their own sort of way. Hunter's been helping my dad out with stuff since the day he biked me home some twenty years ago.

"I'll make lunch," Mama offers. "I already have some sweet tea chilling. Let's head inside."

"We stopped and ate, Mama, sweet tea sounds great though."

"You look exhausted." She peers at me closely, and I glance sharply at Hunter, silently telling him not to say anything about the furniture. He nods in confirmation.

"Let's get in and have some tea. Then I'll draw you a bath, and you can take a nice long nap." Mama takes my arm and guides me towards the door, leaving me little room to argue. "I washed all the bedding up fresh, took it off the line just this morning."

"Go on in with your mama, Kinz. Hunter and me will bring your stuff inside."

"Thank you," I turn and offer a smile.

My dad's gaze is comforting and loving, and then, my eyes lock on Hunter's intense pools of blue and like the ocean they're swimming with emotions, for a moment, the world stills.

Sometimes when he looks at me it's like...

I shut those thoughts down as Mama pulls me into the house.

I was trying to do shorter chaps for this story, but Kinsey is kind of a chatty one, LOL. Hope you liked!! ^^