Julie was majorly sweating as she pulled the last box out of the back of her sedan. She carried it up the driveway and into the kitchen of the small house where she would be living with her two best friends. "Whew. Finally done!" she exclaimed loudly.

Carrie sat at the table, holding a glass of lemonade. "You're really sweaty, Jules. You should have just hired movers like I did."

Julie rolled her eyes at her roommate. "Not everyone's parents made it big in the 90s and can afford superfluous expenses," she responded teasingly, giving her an affectionate grin. "Besides, I did hire movers for the important stuff. My piano will be here this afternoon."

"Your dad and brother don't really qualify as 'movers,' Julie," Carrie retorted, tossing a lock of golden hair over her shoulder.

"Well, I like that they wanted to help. It was sweet. Even if I don't play anymore." Julie's smile turned sad, and she sighed.

"Crap, I'm sorry Julie. I didn't mean to make you sad," Carrie said, setting her glass on the table and reaching out for her friend's hand. "I know that piano means everything to you."

Julie shook her head. "It's not just the piano. It's-everything. It's that Mom's not here to help me decorate my first house. That she's not going to be there when I go home for Christmas. That I'll never get to bring her a song I got an A on and have her tell me how proud she is of me. It's been over a year, but I'm still not over it."

"Babe, I don't think losing your mom is something you ever get over," Carrie said softly. "I haven't seen my mom since I was five, and I'm still not over it fifteen years later."

Julie brushed the tears from her eyes. "I know…"

"It's okay to be sad. And you can always talk to me. I loved her too, ya know? And I'll always love you."

Julie gave her friend a watery smile. "Thanks Carrie. I'll always love you too."

Just then, their third roommate walked in. "I'm back! I found a grocery store and picked up-woah. What happened?" she exclaimed, dropping her reusable shopping bags on the floor of the kitchen and tossing her braids out of her face.

"Nothing, Flynn, I'm fine. Just feeling a little emotional about Mom. Dad and Carlos are bringing the piano for me this afternoon."

Flynn immediately pulled her friend into a tight hug. "I'm sorry life sucks sometimes."

Julie laughed at the understatement, even in spite of her tears. "Yeah, me too." She pulled back from the hug. "I think while I'm still sweaty, I'm gonna go do a little work in the garden, if you guys don't mind?"

Carrie smiled. "Go for it, babe."

Flynn nodded her assent. "Go plant some dahlias for your mom. We could be reminded of her a little more."

Julie threw her best friend a look. "I know you know that you plant dahlias in the spring, so I'm not gonna respond to that at all. But I will be planting some spinach and potatoes, and I think we have enough summer left for me to get a few cucumbers. And I'm putting some crocuses, daffodils, and irises in the ground for spring."

Julie grabbed her box of stuff for the garden and headed out into the back yard.

Even though Julie, Flynn, and Carrie had decided to go to the same college, Julie half expected them to lose touch. After all, Nashville's a big city, and Belmont has a lot going on. But when her mom died right after she graduated high school, her friends had rallied around her in a way she never could have imagined before.

She and Flynn had always been close, but Carrie had sort of split from them years before. But when Rose Molina died, Carrie was right there again, by Julie's side no matter what, just like Flynn. And they helped her survive her freshman year of college. Flynn drove her to therapy every week, and Carrie went to the registrar's office with her to explain her desire to switch from being a music major to an English major with a music minor, and to help her change her schedule so she wouldn't have any music classes where she had to perform. She even managed to convince (read: bully) the poor woman that Julie needed to be in the same sections of gen eds as either Carrie or Flynn, so Julie wouldn't be alone in any of her classes.

And at the end of freshman year, when they were trying to decide where to live, Carrie's dad found this cute little four-bedroom house for sale in one of the suburbs of Nashville. When they agreed that it was perfect, he bought it outright and refused to let them pay rent or stress about finding a fourth roommate. Instead, he simply said, "Be sure to thank me publicly when you make it big." And then he hired someone to come take care of the property for them, and even designated a section of the back yard for Julie's garden.

And that garden is where Julie found herself while she tried to calm down a little and wait for her dad to bring the piano. Trevor had bought the house for them before their finals in the spring, so she had already mapped out her garden a bit. And because Trevor is a saint, he already planted the butterfly bush that Julie had casually mentioned as a plant easy to care for and hard to kill. She was excited that there would be butterflies in her backyard frequently now.

After surveying the work that Trevor had already taken care of, she started on the small plot where she wanted to attempt vegetables (for the first time).

Rose Molina's two loves (other than her family) were music and gardening. And she'd shared them with her children. While music was harder for Julie to find again after her mom had died, the thought of letting her plants die with her had been more than she could bear. So she spent a lot of time caring for her mom's potted plants inside and her garden in the front yard. Gardening had become a safe haven for her, and Julie was ready to put her brain on pause for a bit and just focus on putting new seeds in the ground.

She was just planting her daffodil bulbs when she heard an unfamiliar voice coming from behind her.

"Your backyard is beautiful!" Julie dropped her trowel and turned to see a slightly older woman standing next to the fence, looking into the yard. The woman had curly gray hair and warm brown eyes with just enough wrinkles to make her look gentle. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I'm Emily Patterson, I live just next door."

Julie stood up and wiped the dirt off her hands as best she could. This is why Mom always wore gloves, she reminded herself. She rubbed her hands one last time on her jean shorts before shaking the woman's proffered hand.

"Hi Mrs. Patterson. I'm Julie Molina. My friends and I just moved in. We go to Belmont."

"Oh, that's nice. What are you studying?" the woman asked.

"I'm majoring in English. It's a recent decision," Julie replied. "I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it yet."

Emily smiled, but Julie thought it looked a little sad. "If I've learned anything lately, it's that sometimes even when you think you know what's best, it doesn't always work out that way. But any college degree is a good idea. It shows that you have critical thinking skills, if nothing else."

Julie smiled. "Yeah, I guess that's true. I never thought of that."

After a silent moment, Emily spoke again. "I just thought I would come introduce myself and tell you that if you or your roommates ever need anything, my husband and I are just next door. But I should probably get back inside, now. I've got some bread in the oven."

Julie nodded. "That's really nice of you. Thanks, Mrs. Patterson."

"Call me, Emily, dear." The woman smiled and waved quickly before turning to go back inside to her own house.

Julie smiled. The woman seemed very sweet, if a bit sad. Melancholy, really. That's the word Julie usually used to describe herself lately, and it seemed equally as appropriate for her new neighbor. Sweet with a hint of melancholy. She decided that's how she would describe Emily to her roommates. As she reached down to plant another daffodil bulb, she heard the distinctive honk of her dad's truck. She left her trowel and all of her bulbs and raced to the gate at the side of the house.

When she made it to the front of the house, there were her dad and brother, along with a couple of her brother's friends, who she knew had been bribed with pizza to help her out. "Dad! Carlos!" She called as she ran over to them and pulled them into a big hug. "Thanks for bringing my piano over today. I know it's a huge hassle!"

"We don't mind, mija. We're glad to help you out."

"Danny, Mohammad, I appreciate your help, too!" Julie said, smiling at the teenage boys.

"Ohhhh, uhh, we-we don't mind…" Danny said, stumbling over his words and going a little pink in the face. Julie did her best to hide her chuckle. Danny and Carlos had become friends pretty recently, after his family moved to town and he joined Carlos's soccer team. It was clear he was a little nervous around Julie still, and she thought it was sweet.

"Well, let me show you where we're putting the piano," Julie said, grabbing her dad's hand and pulling him over to the house. "We had thought about putting it in the living room, but we don't really have space. So Carrie and Flynn are the greatest, and they're letting me put it in the garage. We're gonna do like Mom did and turn it into a studio of sorts. Trevor already had it sound-proofed so Dirty Candy can rehearse there." She pulled him over to the garage and entered the code for the automatic door to rise. "Carrie designed it, and she sort of followed Mom's plan for ours. It's different of course, because we only have the one piano and Carrie needs space to choreograph her routines, so there're lots of mirrors, too."

Her Dad let out a long whistle. "Wow mija, Trevor did a lot of work on this place for you girls."

Julie nodded. "I know. I feel kind of bad."

"Don't. He loves it." Julie jumped when she heard Carrie's voice. "Hey Ray, Carlos. How's it going?" She asked, doing the handshake Carlos had taught her.

"Carrie! Good to see you! You settled into the house yet?" Ray asked.

"I have. The movers came a couple days ago, and I've been pretty much settled ever since. Just making decisions about where to put things, you know. Do you guys need help with Julie's piano?"

"No, I think the boys and I can handle it. Thank you, though."

Julie smiled. "Can we bring it out now?"

"Absolutely."

Julie's mother had a grand piano in her garage-turned-studio. That was the piano that both of her children learned to play on. But when Julie turned sixteen, Rose bought Julie a studio piano used from the local conservatory. "This way, when you move out, you can take a real piano with you. And in the meantime, we can each have our space in the studio." So moving the piano into her first real house was important to Julie. Of course, she brought her keyboard as well, but that could go anywhere. It had even lived in her dorm room, basically untouched, for her whole freshman year.

After Ray, Carlos, Danny, and Mohammad had moved her walnut piano into the garage, the boys piled back into the truck. Julie pulled her dad into a hug. "Thank you, papi."

"Your mom would be so proud of you, Julie."

"Even if I never play again?" Julie asked, her voice small.

"Even if you never play again. But you know she wouldn't want you to give it up because of her. She loved you and music both too much for that." Ray kissed his daughter's temple as he pulled out of her hug. "Now, I have to go. I owe three teenage boys some pizza."

Julie chuckled as she walked her dad to his car. "I think they're gonna require a large pizza each."

Ray laughed with his daughter. "You might be right. Will we see you on Sunday?" Sunday lunches were a tradition with the Molinas, and college wasn't going to stop them as long as Julie was still in town.

"Not this Sunday, I don't think," Julie said, shaking her head. "Carrie said something about a party and she wants us to help her get ready for it. But we'll be there next Sunday."

Both of Julie's roommates were honorary Molinas, and had been to most of their weekly lunches over the past year-Flynn for the past couple of years.

"Okay, Julie. You take care of yourself. And be good."

Julie smiled at her dad. He always said goodbye that way.

"I will, Dad. I love you!"

"I love you too!" He hopped into the driver's seat and waved before pulling back down their driveway.