Chapter Twenty-One Emily
Chapter Twenty-One
Emily
I lied to Jack.
I said I knew how to let what happened between us in the closet stay in the closet. At the time, I thought what I was saying was true, but it turns out, I have never been more wrong. Because what happened in the closet changed me. I am a different woman after having Jack’s hands on my body.
I am a woman who wakes up and her first thought is I wonder if Jack is awake yet. A woman who has endlessly dirty dreams where we’re back in that closet but never get interrupted. A woman who has typed the words Do you want to come scene-block snuggling with me? five different times into her text box and then deleted it before sending each time. (So maybe I’m not completely different.)
And Jack? He doesn’t seem to be as tortured as me. We’ve hung out a few times since The Closet—mainly so he can listen to me panic that Colette won’t like my manuscript—but each time he never once tried to kiss me again.
Not. Once.
What the hell is wrong with him? I’ve given him ample opportunities too. Two days ago at The Diner, we were sitting at the bar, and I looked over my shoulder at him with a grin that said oh hello would you please put your lips on mine? He just picked up his coffee and took a long drink. And because I know that Jack has never once in his life been clueless, I have to assume he’s resisting me on purpose. Maybe he doesn’t want to kiss me again. Or maybe he thinks a fling would be a bad idea between us. (It would.) (But maybe I just don’t care and want it to happen anyway?)
I can’t take the uncertainty anymore, though. I have to find out the answer soon, and I’m hoping that it will be tonight. It’s my favorite time of the week: Friday night at Hank’s. I pull into the gravel lot, dust kicking up behind me, and park next to Noah’s orange-and-white truck—just under the neon sign illuminating Hank’s.
As I’m getting out, Annie pulls in on the other side of me. All that’s missing is Maddie’s truck for it to look like a true Friday night.
“Emily!” says Annie, practically jumping from her truck in her floral dress and boots the moment it’s in park. “Wait!”
“I’m literally waiting. You don’t have to jog.”
She breathes out like she just sprinted a mile when she gets close. “Whew. I hate running. I don’t know how Will does it every morning. Anyway, I’m glad I caught you before you went in. I need advice about something…”
“Who do I need to beat up? Did someone hurt your feelings? Is it Will?”
“What!” She laughs like she can’t tell if I’m serious or not. I’m actually not sure if I’m serious or not either. “No one hurt me. Definitely not Will.”
“Okay…usually you ask me for advice when someone’s said something offensive and you don’t know how to respond. So this is me saying, I’ll happily respond for you.”
“Stop that. Everything is good. Better than good, actually. And that’s why…” She bites her bottom lip and crinkles her nose like a bad case of butterflies has swept through her. “I think I want to accept Will’s proposal…by proposing to him myself.”
My stomach clenches.
“ Wow, Annie! ” I say, trying to sound in awe and not gutted. “You feel ready now?”
“I’ve felt ready for a long time now if I’m being honest.”
I take her by the shoulders and tug her in for a huge hug. Partly because this news deserves one, and partly because I need a second to fix my face. “This is incredible news.”
And it really is. I am so happy for Annie because she and Will are perfect for each other. But I also can’t shake the urge to cry either.
“Why do you need my advice, then?” I ask when we pull away.
“Oh! I was wondering what you think about the way I’m planning to do it…”
—
Annie and I walk in together like nothing of incredible life importance just took place in the parking lot and go to our usual table. Noah, Amelia, James, and Will are already here.
“Hiya!” I say, grabbing a seat and slinging my purse over the back of the chair as Annie makes a beeline for the seat next to Will.
All eyes turn toward me, and no one says anything.
Noah folds his arms.
Amelia leans forward, resting her elbows on the table.
Will grins.
Annie lifts a taunting brow like we didn’t already interact in the parking lot and all the way inside the building.
James taps his finger on the table.
It only takes me a second to realize what’s going on. I groan and tilt my face up to the ceiling. “Who told you about the coffee?”
“James,” they all say in unison. The man in question doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty.
He shrugs. “I heard it from Mabel.”
Bringing my gaze back to my smug siblings (and friend), I sigh. “Fine. Yes. I had coffee with Jack and his mom the other day. It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s a very big deal considering he’s a man you’ve claimed to hate, and now, over the course of a month, are meeting his mom. Is there something we should know about?” says Noah.
“No. There’s not.”
Annie tilts her face and narrows her eyes. “Maybe we should call Madison and see if she can get it out of you.”
“She can’t tonight. I already texted her earlier to see if she wanted to be on FaceTime for this, but she’s out on a date tonight. She said she’ll be busy… all night. ”
James suddenly stands up from the table. “I’m going to go get another beer. Want me to grab you one, Emily?”
Odd. I mean—it wouldn’t be odd if this were the only time James has removed himself from a conversation when we started talking about Maddie and her life in New York—but it’s not.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Once he leaves, my siblings get right back to business. “Okay,” says Amelia, “catch me up. We’re talking about your neighbor who you patched up during our girls’ night, right? And we are only freaking out that Emily met his mom because they used to be enemies?”
“ We’re not freaking out, ” I say quickly and firmly hoping my siblings will get it through their heads once and for all that my life is not open for debate. “This is a non-issue. I walked in while he and his mom were having coffee and they invited me to sit. There’s nothing deeper here.” Lie. That coffee felt significant. It was Jack letting me into his life a little further—something I know isn’t easy for him.
“We’re just…sort of…friends,” I say, hoping this pacifies them.
Will tries to trick me. “But how are his abs?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I say firmly. Except I do know. And he has a fantastic torso. It’s the stuff of dreams. My dreams every night this week, in fact. But I am not ready for my siblings to know that I have feelings for Jack. Because I don’t even know what to do with them yet, and getting these nosy Nellies involved would only further complicate the situation.
“When you find out, tell us,” says Amelia with a wide smile. “Don’t leave any detail out. Take a picture if he’ll let you.”
Noah glares at Amelia, but there’s a playful twinkle in his eye that I don’t miss. “We’ve only been married a year and you’re already drooling over other men?”
Amelia lays her head on his shoulder. “I just like to see you get jealous. You get frowny and…”
I tune out.
It’s becoming increasingly difficult to hang out with my siblings and their significant others. Because while Noah and Amelia are doing some sort of weird public conversational foreplay, Will and Annie are kissing. I’m not kidding. This happens more than you’d imagine. They look at each other, fall into their own little world, and then bam they’re making out in public. If you had told me a year ago before they started dating that my sweet baby sister Annie—the wholesome, sugar-cookie sister—would be making out in public with her tattooed retired bodyguard boyfriend, I’d have laughed in your face and assumed you were drunk.
James has the right idea, so I get up and leave my overly affectionate siblings alone to make out like weird teenagers at the table and join him at the bar.
“Should we just start making out to be included?” he says when I lean on the bar beside him.
I laugh—knowing he’s not serious and still halfway wishing we both did find each other attractive. It would solve a lot of issues. James is safe. He’s rooted here. I wouldn’t have to worry about anything unpredictable from his corner. Too bad I’ve never been able to think of him like that.
“Sure, I’m game if you are.”
He stares at me a minute with that gorgeous, tanned, trademark James Huxley smile, and then it fades, and an entirely different story unfolds in his eyes that I can’t read. I don’t think I’m supposed to read it either. “If we just give them another minute they’ll get it out of their systems.”
With a nod, I take a swig of my beer and look up at the Christmas lights that are strung year-round like a net over the ceiling of the bar. The energy at Hank’s is like putting layers of icing on a cake. At the beginning of the night when it’s just me and my siblings and a few other randoms around the bar, the atmosphere is pretty thin. It’s just an old place with beat-up, creaky floors and vinyl-covered barstools that are never not a little sticky. And then the later the night gets, the more layers get swiped on. Suddenly the jukebox starts, cowboy boots scuff to the rhythm of a line dance, laughter echoes from all directions, and that’s when the vibes turn truly thick with honky-tonk decadence. It’s my place. My home. My people. I love it here.
I want Jackson here too.
The thought strikes me like lightning. I look to the door and watch a few more people filter in—a group who have to put their cigarettes out outside the door before entering. None of them are Jackson.
James and I sit here and sip our drinks in silence as the bar hums to life. I can tell it’s going to be a wild night. Every now and then there’s a full moon and people seem to come out of the woodwork. Hank’s is very much a local hot spot, but it’s grown in popularity for the surrounding towns too. Everyone comes here. Everyone except one new town citizen, it seems…
Why is he not here? I invited him.
I glance at the door every time it opens. The fifth time this happens, James calls me out on it.
“Who are you looking for?”
“Hm?”
“You heard me just fine.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not looking for anyone.”
“I invited him too.”
I give away my eagerness when my head whips in his direction. “You did? When?”
He grins. “Funny how you know exactly who I’m talking about.” He swigs his beer. “This morning. I ran into him in town while I was dropping off an order at the market. That okay?”
I fiddle with my beer and look over my shoulder annoyed when someone jostles me as they pass by. “Yeah. It’s fine.” Better than fine. I’m glad he did. I’m sure I made Jackson happy. “So…do you know if he’s coming, then?”
James leans on the counter, dipping his head to catch my eye. “Quit it.”
“Quit what?”
“Quit hiding. Quit protecting yourself so damn much.”
“ Excuse me? ” I say, making sure he hears the agitation in my voice.
“Just go text him and ask why he’s not here if you want him to be. There’s no shame in laying out your feelings for people to see.” He picks up his beer. “Trust me—if you hold out too long, you might miss your opportunity.”
“When the hell did you become a walking fortune cookie? And what opportunity did you—”
“Come on, let’s go back to the table. They’re done swapping slobber,” he says, cutting me off and leaving me to wonder if that statement was about Maddie. Surely not. Those two have been like siblings. They bicker and make fun of each other and…
That’s exactly what I’ve been doing with Jackson all these years.
Beer in hand, I return to the table with my back to the door intentionally. I don’t need to keep track of who enters. It’s a useless waste of energy and I won’t allow myself to do it. I force myself to focus on talking with my siblings—but even that gets more difficult as the bar reaches an all-time-high noise grade. It’s not my imagination that it’s getting more packed in here by nonregulars either, because Amelia casually reaches into her purse and pulls out one of Noah’s baseball hats. She slouches into Noah’s side, and he puts an arm around her. Incognito mode initiated.
Normally we would all be a few beers in by now, but the place is severely understaffed tonight. There’s only one waitress and…“Dammit. Hank is bartending tonight,” I say, but no one hears me. I hate when everyone calls out of work the same night and makes Hank bartend. The man needs a double knee replacement but refuses to get it. Nights like this on his feet for too long put him in a lot of pain.
Noah draws our attention, raising his voice over the music and noise. “Uh—so listen, guys. While we’re all pretty much here, Amelia and I have some news.”
Rocks drop into the pit of my stomach because I don’t think I can take any more news tonight. I’m in a bad mood now from the overly crowded atmosphere and because Jack hasn’t shown up or bothered to text to say he’s not going to make it. And more importantly, I think I know what this news is about.
Smile, mouth, smile.
I hold my breath as Amelia picks up where he left off. “Well…as y’all know, my label wants me to tour for my upcoming album after taking the last one off. And…I’ve decided that I want to as well.”
Don’t drop the smile.
I see Noah squeeze her shoulder as he looks down at her with a smile. “And I’m going to go with her. For the entire duration of it this time. I don’t want to miss out on it, and now that Grandma isn’t…” He trails off and there’s a moment of gut-wrenching emotion that hits us all. “Well, anyway. It’s a good time for it.”
I force myself to smile even wider—it’s bordering on clownish. My lungs are broken, however. I can’t breathe.
My grandma is gone. My sister has moved away. My baby sister is getting married and who knows what changes that’s going to bring. Now my brother is leaving too.
The busy bar moves at half speed around me. Annie leans over and hugs Amelia, telling her how happy she is for her that she gets to tour again and assuring her they will come visit a lot on tour. Will says something about how weird it will be not acting as her bodyguard for this tour. And James and Noah are having a side conversation that looks positive. And me. I’m smiling. So big that sweat is starting to collect on the base of my spine.
In the past, I would have chosen this moment to voice my panic. To tell Noah not to go and that we need him here. That I need him here—though I’d never admit it like that. I’d blame it on Grandma. On the pie shop. On anything that I could possibly sink my fearful claws into to get him to stay. But not anymore.
Now I just stuff my fear and my hurt and my sadness in my Treasure Chest of Doom and hope that’ll be enough to pretend it doesn’t exist.
“So exciting!” I feel like I’m going to throw up. “I’ll look after the Pie Shop for you while you’re gone and keep things running smoothly.” At least that aspect of my life is always the same. The Pie Shop has been in our family for generations, and it’s a comfort to know that I can always count on it. The same floorboard will always squeak. My name is scribbled under the countertop. In the walk-in pantry there’s a section of the wall dedicated to tracking our heights. And my favorite of all, there’s a curse word written in Sharpie in the bottom, darkest corner of the pantry where no one can see it but I know it’s there because I remember watching Maddie write it when she was twelve. I tried to clean it off after she left so Grandma wouldn’t see it and get her in trouble. But Grandma caught me furiously scrubbing it and assumed I was the one who wrote it. I took the fall for Maddie and got grounded from TV for a week.
Noah’s smile has a touch of pity to it when he looks at me. “Actually, Em, I won’t need you to do that. Jeanine needed a change. She’s going to quit at The Diner and work for me at the Pie Shop full time instead. Since it’s a manager position she’ll get paid more than she did at The Diner and you won’t have to work yourself to the bone between school and the shop. It’s a win-win.” He pauses to assess my expression. I don’t know what he sees but whatever it is, it brings him to add, “I thought this would be easier on you.”
“Oh.” I blink and pick up my beer, needing something to do with my hands. “You’re right. That’s perfect! Yes. A win-win for sure.”
Keep smiling, Emily.
He doesn’t need me.
Keep smiling.
No one needs me anymore.
Don’t cry.
Madison is gone for good and I’m going to lose everyone else too.
Keep smiling, dammit. Keep yourself together so they don’t see how raw you feel. So you don’t mess up and say something you’ll regret.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I go to the bathroom, stand on the toilet in the middle stall, and hold my phone toward the ceiling, grabbing the one bar of service we’ve learned exists in this exact spot. And then I send a text I’ll probably regret tomorrow.