Marigolds In Summer -

She’d been wearing a dress, the first time he laid eyes on her.

Some sort of white floaty dress that had been covered in these yellow flowers.

Marigolds.

His mind prompted, the flower on her dress had been marigolds because she loved them.

It was her favorite flower.

He’d bought her a bouquet of them every day they were together, right up until the day they weren’t.

Thomas smoothed shaky hands down the front of the smart, black button-up shirt he’d bought just for the occasion. Glancing down at the Marigolds he huffed a short expletive at the crumpled wrapping paper and loosed his grip.

What was he doing here?

Flowers dropping to his side Thomas felt his body deflate, they didn’t want him here, not really.

Honestly, why would they?

He was a mess. Had been for too many years to count. He was going to ruin everything by being here.

Turning away the sound of the door being pulled open drew his gaze up, his heart stopped for a second and then jumped into his throat.

She hadn’t aged. Not really. Sure there might be a few more lines around her eyes and mouth, a couple of extra pounds here or there, but she was still the most breathtaking woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

And she was fighting a frown.

“Thomas, I’m glad you’re here.”

Are you? He wanted to ask, trying to read a face that had once been so open and was now closed, are you?

Esmerelda did frown now and stepped out onto the front porch, taking in his posture critically she hiked one eyebrow up, “Leaving?”

Shame and guilt made Thomas glance away, to the car he’d parked across the street, already facing the direction of the hotel he’d booked into.

The hotel where he’d paid cash and hadn’t bothered to make himself home in.

He was poised to flee. Had been since touching down four hours earlier.

“It was a mistake, me coming here-“ he sighed eventually, the weight of Esmerelda’s stare burning, “I’ll just ruin-“

“You’ll ruin things by just leaving,” Esmerelda interjected, tone implacable, “your daughter is expecting you. Your sons, though they won’t admit it, are expecting you. Leaving now, without coming in to say hello is both cruel and childish.”

A blast of memory from the past.

Thomas! This isn’t about you anymore, it’s about them, it’s about doing what’s best for them!’

She had called him selfish that day.

He had come to terms with his flaws over time, but sometimes the memories of when he’d been something more caught him unawares.

A sigh, Esmerelda’s entire demeanor deflating, “Just -come in for half an hour and then you can go. But don’t leave without at least acknowledging that you had followed through on what you promised.”

He must have been quiet for too long, his expression dazed because her own features hardened once more.

“Are you high?”

Startled by the fury in her tone Thomas shook his head, “No -haven’t been since Ellie came that day.”

An inelegant snort of disbelief and all he could do was shrug in response, unable to explain the compulsion that had carried him through from that day till this one.

He hadn’t needed the stuff.

Hadn’t found the same enjoyment in the numbness that he once had.

He wanted to feel.

That realization pulled his spine straight and he lifted his gaze to meet Esmerelda’s head-on, “I’m not doing that stuff anymore, I’ve quit.”

“Because twenty years of substance abuse just goes away over the course of a few months,” Esmerelda muttered sarcastically, arms crossed protectively.

Disheartened Thomas nodded, “No, it doesn’t,” he saw the glint in Esmerelda’s eyes, knew she had something to say, but he beat her to it when he revealed, “I got help.”

Speechless.

Probably one of the only times he’d ever seen her rendered so. He would have smiled if the atmosphere wasn’t so tight.

“I go to a group now,” Thomas shrugged like it was nothing, “I have a mentor.”

He could read all too easily the emotions playing across her face. Hope. Fear. Desperation.

Finally, she opened her mouth, “I’m really glad to hear that. Honest to God I am. But don’t mention it to the kids.”

A stab to the heart, unsaid the doubt that he’ll stick to the program, knowledge from a lifetime ago of broken promises and too many lies.

He didn’t want to understand her point of view. Didn’t want to agree. But in the end, he pushed the anger and the hurt down to nod solemnly.

“That makes sense,” he even managed, rewarded by a subtle softening, Esmerelda’s expression one of slow dawning approval.

Then, she smiled, “Hmm…” turning away she stepped across the threshold of the house, into an interior Thomas hadn’t been welcome in since he stepped out eighteen years ago.

She sent that half-smile over her shoulder, a slight tilt of the head in question, “Coming?”

A thrill. Something he hadn’t experienced in -too long. Anticipation thrumming through his body, his blood singing as he caught the sound of voices raised in laughter from within.

A deep breath, a reminder to loosen his grip on the flowers, he toed his shoes off and stepped inside.

Esmerelda’s raised brow at the flowers in his hand and Thomas chuckled, sheepish, “They’re for Ellie. She mentioned that you two shared a love of the same flowers, so I thought…”

The smile she sent him this time was wide and open, the same smile she used to grace him with, and the singing grew to a crescendo.

Esmerelda hovered near him by the door, her gaze steadying and almost instructing him to take a deep breath.

“Ellie!” Doe brown filled with a cautious warmth remained locked with his, “Boys! Your fathers here.”…