Erik
“Erik, you’ve been with us for years, and we obviously love your work,” Cookie Commons says, cupping one of her prized flowers and taking a huge whiff.
The Darcey Bussell in her hand is a stunning, deep crimson rose, created by renowned breeder, David Austin, and named after a former English ballerina. At least Cookie enjoys the flowers that cost her two hundred fifty dollars per bare root. They are the most gorgeous flowers I’ve ever worked with, but I have to admit, having to successfully plant and maintain roses that expensive almost gave me a heart attack.
“Thank you, Mrs. Commons.” A familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me she’s not going to talk to me about the rose in her hand or any other plant in this garden.
After more than ten years of working with her, I know Cookie’s about to bust my balls for telling the truth. My account of what happened contradicts the bullshit story Maddie gave. She may not want to tell her mother the truth, but I have no problem doing it. I can’t stay silent when I witness abuse.
“I don’t know what you think you saw—and quite honestly, I don’t understand why you were watching my daughter by the pool in the first place.” She gives me a smug, side-eye glance and drops her hand. “Trent Anderson is an upstanding young man. For you to barge into my home, and spew lies about someone who will be our son-in-law soon, is not only disrespectful, it’s something I won’t tolerate. There are plenty of landscapers in Charlotte qualified to take care of our property.”
Son-in-law? That must be an exaggeration, because if Maddie were engaged, she’d be sporting a huge-ass diamond ring proudly. Not because she’s vain or shallow, but because she’s vice president of something or other at their family business, Commons Department Stores, and takes her job in fashion very seriously. Clothes and accessories are literally her life.
Normally, it’s easy to ignore Cookie and brush off her anger or criticism. She loves to tell people how to do their jobs. I’ve heard her advice countless times since I started working here.
But I can’t ignore her today. Because this isn’t about my work as a landscape designer. This is about a human life. A human I care about like she’s my own family. I would want justice for anyone—but this is Maddie. And I’ve loved Maddie for years. Or, I mean, I have love for her. It’s not love-love. We’ve been friends since we were kids.
“I understand you may think I was out of line, Mrs. Commons, but what I saw was absolutely disgusting. It was a crime. And I won’t keep my mouth shut when I see a man—any man—push a woman into a pool, watch her hit her head and sink under, and then walk away. Did you hear that part, Mrs. Commons? Instead of helping her, he walked away.”
Cookie’s gaze shoots straight through me. I continue anyway, because her invisible eye lasers won’t hurt me, and even though her fists are balled up at her sides, it’s not like she’d ever hit me.
I can’t keep quiet about the truth. I’ve been screwed over by enough people who didn’t tell the truth, I’m not about to make lying part of my life.
“Look, you don’t have to believe that he pushed her. But why would he run, Mrs. Commons? Why wouldn’t he jump in to help her?”
“I wouldn’t dare assume I know anything about the motivations or actions of someone who isn’t here to answer himself.”
“Why isn’t he here?” I look around the yard. “Even if Maddie fell into the pool on accident? Why wouldn’t he help her out or stay to finish their discussion? Why would he leave abruptly?”
Cookie’s icy gaze turns harder. “I believe I’ve already addressed that question. I cannot comment on Trent’s motivations. He’s a busy man. I can only assume he had plans that didn’t include loafing around a pool with Madeline.”
I scoff and try to tuck my hands in my pockets, but my jeans are soaked and there’s no way I can shove a hand inside the wet denim.
Cookie continues, “This matter is not your business, and if you continue to act as if it were, you can pack up your equipment and never return to this house.”
“I’ve said all I need to say.” I lift my hand to tip my baseball hat, and realize it’s not there because I threw it to the ground when I ran to the pool. With no hat to tip, I end up giving her a weird salute and walk away. No reason to argue any further with the woman of the house and lose my job. Though it wouldn’t hurt me too bad financially if I lose this job, I lose the precious few moments I get to see Maddie. That’s worth more than money to me.
By the time I get back to work, my crew has finished the backyard. Instead of hopping on my mower to help them get started in the front, I walk to the far corner of the Commons’ backyard and settle down beneath the shade of their huge black walnut tree. Resting my back against the trunk, I stretch my legs, hoping that any minute Maddie will run out and spill her guts, like she did when we were teenagers.
I long for those days again. Two kids, sitting shoulder to shoulder, talking about our lives as if we were each other’s therapist—and best friend. A neutral third party there to listen, without judgment, to whatever was going on at the time.
She helped me ace my first public speaking assignment in freshman year of high school, giving me pointers for how to engage and charm my audience while making my point. She talked me out of beating the shit out of a punk kid who keyed my truck in junior year. And she consoled me after my grandfather died suddenly of a massive heart attack.
That was the subject of our very last conversation under the black walnut. Two days before his funeral—the day she was supposed to leave for college in Savannah—I sat with her under our tree and broke down in sorrow and hopelessness. Other than my grandparents, she’s the only person I’ve ever let see me cry.
Though I’d turned eighteen a month before and thought I should be strong and stoic in the face of tragedy, she didn’t make me feel like less of a man. She didn’t make me feel weak. She held me in her arms and let me sob. Then she told me her favorite stories about him.
Two days later, when I thought she’d be moving into her dorm, there she was, standing next to Cookie and Harris during my grandfather’s funeral. That selfless support is the reason I’ve never been able to get Madeline Commons out of my mind—even after years of barely seeing each other. Maybe our friendship was odd, but it was true.
Maddie would have drowned had no one else been around to see what happened. I don’t consider myself a hero, by any means, but I’m relieved I was working at that particular moment. Almost like I was meant to be there.
Though the tree shades me from direct sunlight, there’s still enough peeking through the branches to help dry me off. The water on my skin evaporates almost immediately. My T-shirt won’t take very long to dry once I get back on my mower, but my jeans are soaked, and wet denim is one the of most uncomfortable things in the world.
But not as uncomfortable as seeing how quickly Maddie and Cookie swept what Trent did under the rug. I’ve had a suspicion he was abusive to her, just by the way I’ve heard him talk to her in those moments when I’m working on the yard, and they’re laying by the pool. I try not to listen, but it happens sometimes.
I used to be able to keep a better watch on her. But that’s the thing about growing up and moving on. Maddie hasn’t lived with her parents since she came back from college. We barely see each other or talk anymore, though I like to believe she drops by on Tuesdays because she knows I’ll be here. Maybe that childhood friendship has run its course and I should stop expecting anything.
I have a feeling she’s not coming out today. She could barely look at me, which I take as a huge red flag that this really isn’t the first time he’s done something this bad. It’s just the first time anyone saw it.
The longer I sit, the angrier I get. I want to beat the living shit out of that Trent guy. If I ever see him again…
Nope. I can’t let my brain travel down that road of thinking. No matter how much I’d like to, I can’t. I’ve had to be very careful over the last few years to live my life as the most law-abiding citizen that ever existed, without so much as a speeding ticket. For me, getting in trouble comes with worse consequences than it does for others. Getting in trouble means I seal my fate of never seeing Maddie again.