The bell over the door to the flower shop jingled as Abby followed Gemma inside. Walking up next to her, she looked around the shop at all the plants and various flowers. "Explain to me why we're here again?" she asked.

Holding up a paper bag, Gemma murmured, "I have these dead bulbs that I need to replace." Gemma stopped at the counter and rang the bell. Turning to Abby, she continued, "Plus, I thought it might be good for you to look at getting some things to pretty up that big yard of yours."

With a snort, Abby leaned in. "I can't grow shit, that's why I had landscapers in Chicago."

Stepping away from the counter, Abby began to meander around the store, marveling at all the colors and smells from the various flora. She hadn't thought about what she was going to do with her yard, but Gemma was right, she needed to do something. Maybe this could be a new hobby for her.

As she stood in front of the rack of seeds, staring at the green beans, she thought about how much her mom liked gardening. Her mom wasn't much for flowers, but she had the most amazing garden full of produce and herbs. Since Abby was only six when her parents died, she didn't have a ton of memories of them, but she remembered helping her mom pick zucchini, tomatoes, snap peas and all the other goodies she grew every year. The thing she loved doing the most was shucking corn with her dad on Sunday afternoons. He would throw it on the grill with hamburgers and her mom would make potato salad for their Sunday meal. She couldn't help but wonder if her parents hadn't died, would she have inherited her mom's gardening skills?

Running her hand down the rows of seeds, she almost missed when Gemma hollered her name. Walking toward the counter, she heard Gemma talking about her new house and the yard that needed sprucing up.

"This is Abby," Gemma announced putting her arm around Abby's waist. "She's sort of a black widow of horticulture so she needs lots of help."

"Gee thanks," Abby scoffed, looking at the lady behind the counter. Sticking her hand out, Abby introduced herself. "Abigail Munson."

"Rita Roosevelt, nice to meet you."

"Roosevelt, are you…?"

With a nod, Rita responded, "Yes, Sheriff Roosevelt's wife." Not taking her eyes off Abby, she pulled out a binder. "Here are some layout options for you to consider if you're serious about sprucing up the outside of your new place."

Abby felt Gemma nudge her to look at the binder. She knew Gemma wasn't going to give up until she purchased something for her yard. With a sigh, she stepped closer to the counter and took the binder. "This wasn't exactly what I had on my agenda today, but I don't think I'm getting out of here until I decide on something." Glancing over at Gemma then back at Rita Roosevelt she continued, "She's very persistent."

"I can see that," Rita agreed with a laugh, as she flipped to the next page of the binder and began talking to Abby about the picture of bright flowers staring back at them.

Abby stepped onto the sidewalk, her head swimming with visions of flowers, shrubs, and trees. She pulled her phone out and saw the time. Juice had called her the night before to say goodbye to Lucas before they pulled out the next morning for their run. He asked Abby to call him around noon to let him know what her schedule looked like so he could call Lucas at some point. It was close to one o'clock, so she needed to touch base with him. She was trying to work with him to cultivate his relationship with Lucas. She genuinely wanted them to have a relationship, but opening up Lucas to him, allowing him in, scared her.

Stepping up next to Gemma, she shoved her phone back in her purse and pushed her thoughts of Juice out of her head. "I think I just bought a ton of…" Abby trailed off as she looked up to see Gemma puffing away on a cigarette with a unknown man with longish, brown hair in a brown leather jacket smoking along with her. Pointing to the guy, she continued, "Who's your friend?"

Gemma began to open her mouth, but the man stuck his hand out and greeted her. "Nick Stackhouse, I was looking for a light and got lucky when I saw…" he paused, "Gemma getting ready to light her cigarette. Right place, right time, I guess."

"Abigail Munson," she quickly answered, then turned to Gemma, "We need to get going. I have the flooring people coming to the house to start working upstairs and I need to call Juice before it gets too late." Glancing up at Nick, she noticed he was watching her intently. Something rubbed her the wrong way about this guy. She watched Gemma put out her cigarette, say goodbye and start walking toward the car. With a smile, Abby nodded, "Nick, nice to meet you."

Sliding into the passenger seat of Gemma's car, she couldn't help but notice Nick Stackhouse watching them with an inquisitive look on his face as they drove away.

Abby stepped out of what was to be her bedroom to let the guys begin putting in the new flooring. She looked back over her shoulder, feeling a twinge of excitement inside her. After the flooring was finished in each bedroom, she would have the window guys come in to put in replacements, then she could begin painting room by room. She was starting to feel accomplished and like things were coming together.

She came down the stairs to Gemma peeking into the kitchen. Turning around as Abby approached, Gemma pointed upstairs. "Get that taken care of?"

"Yep, they're starting the floors in my room. My floors will be done in three days, then the new windows, and then the real fun begins: painting."

"Well, don't go thinking I'm going to pick up a paintbrush," Gemma grumbled.

With a laugh Abby answered, "That's what Opie's for." She watched as Gemma opened the backdoor and motioned for her to step outside. Grabbing her phone, she followed along behind Gemma.

As she pulled the door shut behind her, she observed Gemma standing, hand on hip, staring at the backyard. She knew Gemma was waiting for a chair and wasn't going to look for one on her own. Scanning the back porch, Abby saw a couple lawn chairs that Chuckie must have stacked in the corner of the porch. Grabbing them, she opened one for Gemma then set herself up across from the woman that was pretty much her second mom.

Abby watched Gemma light up a cigarette and survey the yard. Abby remembered the first time she met Gemma. Bobby had driven her from Arizona to Charming and straight to the Teller household. Gemma opened the door with a sleeping Thomas in her arms, passed him right over to JT, and scooped Abby up. She would never forget Gemma pushing a curl out of her face, looking her in the eyes and saying, "Welcome home, baby." From that day on, Abby was treated like the daughter Gemma never had and even more so when Thomas passed away. Gemma was a lot of things to a lot of people, but Abby never saw her in the negative way that others did. To Abby, Gemma was the woman she cried to when she got her heart broken in tenth grade or that held her hair back every time she would get a stomach bug. Gemma taught her how to make the best coffee and how to drive stick shift. When Abby went to Chicago, they talked several times a week, and anytime she was up in the middle of the night with an inconsolable Lucas, Gemma was the person that she called.

"So, this house," Gemma waved her hand in the air, "you gonna tell me how you purchased it as quickly as you did?"

Stretching her legs out in front of her, Abby chuckled, "You're not going to ask why this house?"

"I'm getting to that." Gemma exhaled some smoke into the air and settled back into the lawn chair.

"Do you remember David Young?"

"He was the kid that you tutored in high school?"

Abby nodded. "Well, he's a real estate agent now. I bumped into him when I was leaving preschool a couple months ago. We got to talking and I asked him if he had any fixer-uppers for sale." Putting her hands in the air, she looked over at Gemma. "This is what he had."

"Uh huh, so why this house?"

"As much as I love Bobby, his place isn't kid friendly, never has been," Abby paused. "This place hadn't been lived in for quite some time because the owners went into a nursing home. Once they passed away, their grandson inherited it. He lives in Connecticut and didn't want to deal with the hassle of it being on the market forever because in this state, it would have been. He was willing to take twenty thousand in cash."

With a surprised look, Gemma pushed her sunglasses on top of her head. "You have that kind of cash lying around?"

"I took it from the bank account with the inheritance money I got when I graduated law school." Abby looked around her yard then back at Gemma. "I know it's not up to your standards, but it will be. I'm excited about creating a home for me and Lucas." Leaning over to nudge Gemma in the knee, she smiled. "Plus, you can help me shop for all the furniture I'm going to need."

With a smile, Gemma put out her cigarette then looked Abby in the eyes. "Where does Juice fit into all of this?"

The question caught Abby off guard as she felt her heart begin beating harder inside her chest. Abby had been waiting and waiting for Gemma to try to talk to her about Juice, but with every passing day, Gemma never brought him up. Abby had been trying to rehearse all possible responses to any question Gemma might throw at her about Juice. She started doing it a few weeks before the guys got out, but now that she sat here with Gemma, all her well-thought-out answers that were void of emotion disappeared from her mind.

"You still with me?"

Abby snapped her attention back to Gemma who was scanning her up and down. There was no way she could hide a thing from Gemma. She had been doing her best not to face any of the emotions she buried deep inside of her about Juice. The feelings she was trying to keep under lock and key scared her. They scared her to think about and the thought of saying them out loud was even more terrifying. She had to find a way to get off this subject and fast. She couldn't help but think this was the moment a Sons emergency would come in handy.

Clearing her throat, she turned her eyes away from Gemma's curious look. "I haven't decided yet."

"What the hell does that mean?" Gemma scoffed. "Clay said he showed up at Lucas's soccer game yesterday. You must have some idea how this is going to work."

Having an idea of how this would work would mean that Abby had to have an idea of how she truly felt about Juice. It would mean that she would have to go back in time and stir up her feelings, both good and bad. She swallowed back the acid creeping up her throat. Gemma had a way of breaking Abby down because of the maternal bond Gemma shared with Abby. If anyone was going to crack Abby, it would be Gemma. They both knew it, but Abby wasn't ready to share anything with anyone. She wanted to work on the house, get used to having Juice in Lucas's life, and then try to sort everything else out. The last time she let down her guard and relinquished control, she got her heart broken by Juan Carlos Ortiz.

"This is a new dynamic for me and Lucas. We've been used to it just being the two of us. I brought us back here to help out and now it's not just the two of us anymore. Lucas loves being surrounded by so many people who care about him, but it's all still new. Not to mention, this is an even bigger change for Juice. I want them to keep getting acquainted before we try to figure out the routine of this parenting thing. Lucas had a lot more time adjusting to you, Tara, the boys, Opie, and everyone else that was here when we arrived. He needs time to get used to Juice."

Gemma kept her eyes fixed on Abby, listening intently at what she had just said. With a nod, Gemma didn't miss a beat, "A son needs a father. I got lucky with Clay. He stepped right in and took Jax under his wing. Sure, Lucas has other male figures in his life, but it's not the same. You have to work with him on the parenting stuff." She stopped and leaned forward, placing her hand on Abby's knee. "I'll save you the lecture on working on your romantic relationship with him."

With a nervous laugh, Abby questioned, "What does that mean?"

"All I know is this: the boy never stopped loving you and something tells me that you haven't stopped either."

The last part of Gemma's statement hit Abby like a ton of bricks. She felt like she couldn't breathe as the words echoed in her ears. For the most part, Abby was thankful for Gemma's advice, and then there were times, like now, where Abby wished Gemma knew how to keep her mouth shut.

"Your silence leads me to believe that I'm right," Gemma added, raising an eyebrow.

Before Abby could open her mouth, her phone rang. She was relieved to see Tara's name lit up on her screen. "Hello," she answered quickly.

"Abby, Piney was just admitted to the hospital. He passed out in my office a little bit ago. Can you get a hold of Opie and let him know?"

"Sure, I can do that. Thanks for letting me know." Abby hung up and turned her attention to Gemma. She was happy for the interruption. She wasn't happy that Piney was in the hospital, but thankful that this phone call stopped the conversation Gemma was having with her. If she sat here with Gemma any longer, she was going to become a blubbering mess.

"Everything okay?" Gemma asked, pointing to the phone.

Abby jumped up. "I have to find Opie. Piney's in the hospital."

"Ah shit." Gemma stood up and walked toward the backdoor. Turning to Abby as she followed behind. "Don't think I'm finished with that conversation."

With a sigh, Abby rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't expect anything less." Laughing as Gemma smacked her on the butt, she opened her phone and began trying to find Opie.

Juice stepped outside under the night sky and took a deep breath. He needed to find a quiet place where he could get some air. He felt like he couldn't breathe. The guys were running into some complications in Tucson. Between finding out the Sons charter was dealing crank, sorting out why one of the members quit the club, and complications with the meet with the Cartel, this trip was becoming more stressful than Juice ever imagined. Not to mention, he had received a voicemail from Roosevelt that made him want to throw up. The only highlight of this whole day was talking to Lucas. He got to hear about his day at preschool, the meal he had at Gemma's with Abby, Tara, and the boys and all the fun he had playing with Abel. He couldn't get over how much talking to him could change his whole demeanor. He hoped that they could get all this drama sorted out so he could make it in time for Lucas's soccer game the next evening.

Sliding onto the asphalt, Juice lit a cigarette and leaned back against the building. This Roosevelt shit was starting to suffocate him. The information they had on his father could get him kicked out of the club. These guys were his brothers and even though he had Lucas in his life, he wasn't sure if that was a permanent thing or not. He couldn't lose this family. The only way for him to get Roosevelt to keep his secret would mean he would have to do the unthinkable.

Closing his eyes, he tried to focus his thoughts onto his son, and that smile of his that automatically made Juice smile too.

"You hiding out here?"

Opening one eye, Juice saw Bobby coming toward him, beer in one hand and a cigar in the other. "Yeah," he muttered. "I needed to get a little quiet."

Bobby leaned up against the building and sighed. "Did you talk to my nephew tonight?"

Smiling, Juice answered, "Yes, he had a good day and I got to hear all about it."

"That's good," Bobby paused. "You talk to my niece?"

Juice felt the smile disappear from his face as he felt his body tense up. Talking to Bobby about Abby wasn't something he really wanted to do. He couldn't tell what Bobby was thinking or feeling about where things stood with her. Five years ago, he wanted them as far away from each other as possible. A few nights ago, he was jumping to his aid when Abby had her little drunken outburst. Juice didn't know what to think about what was going on with Bobby in relation to him and Abby.

Swallowing, he mumbled, "Just for a second." Silence settled between them; the only noise was muffled sounds of the guys inside the clubhouse. Juice could hear his heart in his chest picking up the pace the longer the silence went on. He wasn't sure if Bobby was expecting him to say something, but if he was, Juice didn't know what to say. Part of him wanted to talk to Bobby about the feelings he had inside of him for Abby, ask him how to make things right with her. The other part of him wanted to yell at Bobby for contributing to the demise of his relationship with the only girl he had ever been in love with.

Breaking the silence, Bobby turned to Juice and asked, "How was she?"

"Eager to hand the phone off," Juice whispered. He started to push himself up to stand but froze as Bobby continued their conversation.

"We're going to have to tell her something, about what we did."

Sliding back down, Juice could feel his stomach start to churn. Swallowing to keep from bringing the beer he consumed back up, he turned his eyes to Bobby. "And how exactly do we go about that?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Bobby started to walk away. "I don't know Juice, I don't know."

Juice continued to watch Bobby as he walked away. As he reached the corner of the clubhouse, Juice blurted out. "Bobby, why the change, you know, about what happened with Abby and me?"

Slowly, Bobby pivoted on his heel, locking eyes with Juice. With a laugh, he called back, "Guess I found my conscious in prison."

Juice stared into the darkness from where Bobby had just been. He wasn't sure what to make of that statement. There was no question that they needed to come clean with Abby, but Juice wasn't sure how or when to drop that information on her. When they got back to Charming, he should probably press Bobby for a concrete plan on how to proceed with that. As much as he wanted to let it up to Bobby to avoid the confrontation, he didn't want to make things worse. If he had any hopes of getting back into her good graces, he needed to be a part of making things right.

Abby threw the comforter off of herself and rolled onto her back. Staring up at the ceiling, she couldn't seem to settle herself. It was too quiet in the house. Bobby was a night owl who would spend time in the kitchen baking in the wee hours of the night. With no sounds coming from downstairs, she was left with nothing but the thoughts in her head.

Pushing herself up to sit, she ran her hand over the other side of the bed. For a second, she thought she could smell the scent of Juice's deodorant that used to linger in the bed. "Damnit," she mumbled, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, and jumping to stand.

She walked to Lucas's door and peered inside. He was sleeping peacefully, holding onto his favorite blanket that he slept with every single night. Watching him sleep calmed her somewhat, but tonight it didn't seem to do the trick.

Making her way down the stairs, she contemplated sleeping on the couch, but the living room didn't seem safe from past memories either. As she shuffled through the living room, trying to push out the visions of her and Juice curled up watching movies, she pulled a blanket off the recliner.

The night air was refreshing on her skin as she stepped onto the back porch. It smelled like rain, but Abby didn't care. Maybe the rain would wash away some of these past ghosts that were haunting her tonight. She pulled herself onto the hammock and wrapped the blanket around her, pulling her knees up to her chest.

She thought back to her conversation with Gemma at her new house. The answer she had given Gemma as to why she jumped on that house so quick hadn't been a complete lie. Bobby's house wasn't the best place for a very rambunctious four-year-old boy to be because of all the unique knick knacks he had all over the house. Bobby liked collecting things and his house proved that.

The part Abby left out was the reason she was sitting on the hammock, wrapped in blanket with the threat of rain looming. The house had ghosts, ghosts of memories with the man she fell in love with. She knew coming back to the house would bring up some of the memories she tried to forget, but she had hoped that once she became reacquainted with being home, they would dissipate. No such luck; the memories continued to scream at her and they were getting louder with each passing day. She needed to get out of that house, and if that meant taking money out of her inheritance to purchase a major fixer-upper, so be it.

She was surprised that Gemma let the Juice conversation drop. Abby never knew Gemma to let anything like that drop; that wasn't her strong suit. She was thankful Gemma exercised some restraint with that topic. She wasn't sure she would have been able to keep her wall up in front of Gemma. Trying to hide behind the fortress she built was becoming exhausting.

Abby couldn't make sense of her emotions anymore. She had spent the last five years building up the biggest wall to keep from dealing with the fallout with Juice. Behind that wall was anger, hurt, disappointment, confusion, and love, which was the emotion screaming the loudest.