Chapter 4

When Dean stood up, I didn’t try to stop him.

Willa was still crying on the phone. She said she didn’t want to go back to her apartment. She didn’t want to be alone.

Dean looked at me, his keys still in his hand.

“I’m going to stay with her until she gets through tonight,” he said. “Once she calms down, I’ll come home.”

“You don’t need to come home tonight.”

His face hardened.

“June, don’t force me to make this kind of choice right now.”

I leaned against the dining table without raising my voice.

“You’ve been making it for a long time.”

He stood there, waiting for me to take it back.

I didn’t.

A few seconds later, he picked up his coat and walked out.

I heard his car pull away. I didn’t go to the window. I didn’t text him.

That night, I slept in the guest room.

The next morning, I went to the greenhouse first.

The heat lamps Rosa had set up were still on.

The seedlings she had helped me save had been moved neatly into the center beds. The basil along the outer wall had collapsed completely.

I carried those pots outside and set them beside the compost bin.

Dean’s old work gloves were still hanging from the tool rack.

I took them down and tucked them into my coat pocket.

The community garden office opened at nine.

Marlene saw me come in and asked how the greenhouse was holding up.

I told her I was still dealing with it, then slid the registration form across her desk.

“I need to remove household access.”

She looked up.

“Dean too?”

“Dean, and every guest connected to his account.”

Marlene didn’t ask whether we’d had a fight. She opened the system and checked the lease, insurance, and equipment registration.

“They’re all in your name,” she said. “If you confirm this, the old access cards will deactivate this afternoon. A new gate code takes three days to generate. There’s also a forty-eight-dollar reset fee.”

“That’s fine.”

I paid and signed my name on the electronic form.

It wasn’t much money.

Still, I looked at the payment confirmation for a moment.

I had never expected to have to pay extra to keep a place that was already mine.

Marlene was about to submit the request when a notice appeared on her screen.

Before primary access is removed, please confirm linked guest records.

“It’s just a system requirement,” she said. “Dean issued temporary access to someone. Once we delete his account, the history will be archived with it.”

She turned the screen toward me.

I only wanted to make sure there were no cards I had missed.

Then I saw Willa’s name.

Willa Carter — Guest Access

The authorization date was April seventeenth of last year.

I remembered that day.

My mother had been sitting outside the greenhouse on the bench, an old blanket over her legs and packets of mint seeds in her lap.

Dean had promised to come that afternoon and help us install the new shade cloth.

He called at 3:27.

He said a client had changed the meeting time and he couldn’t get away.

My mother didn’t complain.

She handed me the seeds and told me to secure the loose support first.

I had made excuses for him then. I had said work happened.

On the screen, I saw the entry record from that same night.

Willa Carter entered Greenhouse 12 — 9:46 p.m.

I scrolled down.

Two visits in May.

Three in June.

Four in October.

The most recent one had been two days before the heater failed.

Twenty-seven visits in all.

Rosa had seen her twice.

When had Willa come the other twenty-five times?

And how many times had Dean stood beside the things I had planted with my own hands and told her I didn’t need him there?

Marlene spoke gently.

“Do you want me to stop the removal?”

I turned off my phone and set it facedown on the desk.

“Continue.”

She clicked the confirmation button.

“The old access cards will deactivate at four this afternoon.”

I placed Dean’s gloves on the counter.

He still didn’t know the card about to stop working had been issued in Willa’s name.