More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Abby Jimenez
Read between
September 2 - September 3, 2025
She handed me the phone back. “I swear to God this guy is the epitome of If He Wanted To He Would.”
We watched him get out and go around the back of the car. He got a large potted plant from the trunk and started lugging it to the porch. “Is that a rosebush?” Maddy asked, squinting. He came up the walk and greeted Maddy, then he looked at me. “I brought you flowers,” he said, around the leaves. I laughed. “You brought me an entire rosebush?” He set it down. “You said the ones Amber got you were dead. I wanted to get you some that wouldn’t die.”
I was contemplating if kissing her in an antique store in front of a maimed ugly baby doll was tacky when my phone rang.
“You two smell like you showered in Patrón,” I said. I dug in my center console for a water bottle. “Drink some water.” “Water?” Leigh said. “That stuff that killed everyone on the Titanic?”
“This is George Cooney.”
Maybe that’s why I was a good nurse. I had the gift of extreme empathy paired with detachment. I could deeply understand someone and anticipate their needs, but also never get close enough to them to feel it when they passed away or suffered or I moved on. I didn’t fall in love. Not with people or places. Not with anything, really.
“Brad and I talked about it,” Benny said. “The kids need to be with you right now. It doesn’t make any sense to separate you. We got you a family suite at the water park. Jane and I will take the dog.” Brad put a hand on my shoulder. “They’ll have fun. They’ll be distracted. It’s what everyone needs right now. We’ll get your new room set up, make this place feel like home. Benny knows how to put together your computer shit. I know how your room should look. We got it.”
He looked at me amused. “Wow. You are obsessed with me.”
I put my free hand on my cheek. It was warm. Knowing I was blushing made me blush harder. I did not blush. That was not a thing I did. I guess until now.
I didn’t want to be at the mall—it had lost its novelty for me about fifteen years ago. I was only here for the kids. But with Emma here, I couldn’t think of any place I’d rather be.
It’s funny how when you find someone you like as much as I liked her, the destination is suddenly wherever they are.
“Let me know if you need help planting it.” “I’ve got Maddy.” “So you’re saying she’s good at digging holes…” “I’m telling her you said that.” “Please don’t, I’m scared of her.”
“The lengths you will go to stay living in the chaos you’re accustomed to—”
“The chaos you grew up in! This whole life you’ve made—the travel nursing and the constant moving—you’re reliving your childhood,” she said. “Doing it in a safe way you can control. You slap the word ‘adventure’ on it like lipstick on a pig, but it is what it is, just another way to keep you from ever belonging to anywhere or anyone.”
I’ve known Justin for like five minutes. So I what? Give up my career and jazz hands my way into his fragile, grieving family hoping it works out between us? Me and this guy I just met? And if it doesn’t work out? How will that affect these kids, who just lost their mom on the tail end of losing their dad?”
She put a hand to her chest. “Let’s be very clear here. I am not the obstacle in the way of your happiness. That person is you.”
“Emma, go meet him at the door, or I will lose my shit. I didn’t push a clunky car stroller around the universe’s largest mall for five hours so you could shake hands with this guy on the way out. As soon as he shows up, I’m going to park around the front at the lobby to give you some privacy. Go get your damn forehead kiss.”
“Hey,” he said, coming out. “Just admit you’re obsessed with me, you don’t have to plant things in my stuff for excuses to come see me.”
I was in an uncomfortable hotel bed at a water park. My mom went to prison today and I officially took custody of my three siblings. And I still smiled myself to sleep.
I’d liked that he’d smelled like toothpaste and Downy, like he’d just washed the hoodie he’d been wearing.
“And she couldn’t afford the time off work for my graduations. She asked for pictures—” “To show people. Because it doesn’t fit the narrative that she’s a loving and doting mother if she doesn’t even have pictures of you to show people while she’s taking credit for your accomplishments.”
The bar is on the floor and she’ll bring a shovel, every time.
Maddy was right. I was an afterthought to my mother.
Her pigtails were crooked. Justin saw me looking at them. “I’m still learning how to do it,” he said. “It’s cute.”
I was in a Justin deficit, and I hadn’t even realized it until just now.
I sent you a survey for our date tomorrow.”
I didn’t want out of it. It was the weirdest feeling, like I wanted to leave with him, just walk right out of my job and go. Those cartoons where the character smells something delicious and it puts them in a trance and they float after the scent in a daze.
“Come over,” he said without skipping a beat. “It’s ten o’clock at night,” I said. “I don’t care. I want to see you.”
“Do you have any pictures?” “Nah, I want you to come see it in person.” He paused. “I miss you. I want to see you,” he said again.
And the weird thing was, I didn’t want to go over there for the same reason I usually met a man late at night. I mean yes, I wanted that too. But I wanted to see him. Talk to him. Just be around him, even if all we did was sleep. I had never felt like that before.