Chapter 6
Chapter Six
“ Y ou’re supposed to be helping.”
“And you’re supposed to be giving stuff away, not holding it up to the mirror.”
Emily blinked and looked over at Charlotte, who sat a few feet away on the hardwood floors with her legs stretched out on either side of a brown box. Her light-blond hair was piled into a bun on top of her head, with a few wisps framing her heart-shaped face. A thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead, and her mouth was twisted into a frown.
Already, she had pit stains and dirt streaks all over her jeans.
Savannah, on the other hand, stood in front of the full-length mirror, holding a dress up to her body. She twisted to and fro and examined herself critically, and when a strong gust of wind blew in through the open window, she turned to it with a grin. After securing the latch on the window, Savannah turned to her mother with a smile, one that mirrored Trevor’s so closely it made Emily freeze.
She still wasn’t used to seeing Trevor in her younger daughter’s face.
Or hearing his laughter come out of Savannah’s mouth.
And sometimes, being around it was so unnerving it took Emily a while to recover. In the weeks following her late husband’s death, it had been unsettling to be around Savannah, but in the time since then, she’d long since learned to accept her uncanny resemblance to Trevor and the fact it wasn’t her daughter’s fault.
At least it felt like she got to keep another part of him with her.
With a sigh, Emily wrenched her gaze away from Savannah and returned to the box in front of her, full of Trevor’s old college clothes. She took out a few more items and rummaged around till she came across a weathered silver trophy. As soon as she took it out, Charlotte and Savannah drifted closer to her, and the three of them lapsed into silence.
“I know Dad said he used to play college ball, but I kind of thought he exaggerated how good he was,” Charlotte admitted with a grimace. “Now I feel bad about all the jokes I made at his expense.”
Emily’s throat felt dry. “I’m sure your dad knew you were kidding. Besides, he wasn’t always able to talk about what happened.”
Savannah sank onto the floor next to them and tucked her legs underneath her. “Is it because of his knee injury?”
“Among other things,” Emily responded after a too-long pause. “I think he just didn’t know how to bring it up sometimes. But when he did, man, it was like his entire face lit up.”
Charlotte and Savannah exchanged quick looks.
“I remember him trying to teach me how to play,” Charlotte added after a brief pause. “I think he was really disappointed to find out how uncoordinated I was.”
Savannah pointed a finger at her sister. “So, it’s your fault he turned his attention to me. I was his sloppy second choice.”
Emily set the trophy down and stood. “Neither of you were sloppy seconds. Your dad just wanted to pass down his love of the game.”
“Yeah, but out of the two of us, Charlotte should’ve been the one to take one for the team. That’s how it’s supposed to work with older siblings. You’re meant to be shouldering the hopes and dreams of the parents, so us younger siblings can get away with stuff.”
Emily placed both hands on her hips. “Uh-huh. Just what were you getting away with, young lady?”
Savannah dropped her finger and pretended to rummage through the box. “It was just a figure of speech, Mom. Don’t take it so literally.”
Emily glanced between the two of them, who kept sneaking glances at each other when they thought she wasn’t looking. “You two do know I can see you looking at each other, right? And I know you used to get into trouble.”
Charlotte rose to her feet and used a bandana to tie her hair back. “How? Dad was always the one covering for us.”
Emily smiled and shrugged. “It was our little secret.”
The three of them lapsed into silence and returned to rifling through the boxes. With summer around the corner, Emily knew it was high time for her to clean up the attic. She hadn’t been up there since Trevor’s untimely death, being gripped with an intense and powerful wave of panic and fear each time she even thought of it, but it had been long enough.
Holding on to Trevor’s things was no longer healthy or helpful.
And the thought of giving away some of her older things no longer filled her with dread.
A part of her mourned the loss of the life they could’ve had together as an older couple in their respective rocking chairs, surrounded by their grandkids. But the other part of her suspected what she’d known for a while; letting go came in small waves, and she had to do it little by little. Each morning, she had to put one foot in front of the other until it wasn’t as hard anymore.
One day, she hoped it would come as second nature as she learned to live and grow around the grief that never left her side.
“You know, we should have a potluck, just like the ones Dad used to organize with his friends,” Charlotte suggested, her voice bringing Emily back to the present with a jolt.
She realized she was standing near the window with Trevor’s old college hoodie held to her chest and a faint musky smell that made her stomach dip.
It was the closest she was going to get to a hug from him.
“What about for his birthday?” Savannah folded a gray hoodie over her arm, her hand ducking into the box. “What do you think, Mom?”
Emily strode over to them and cleared her throat. “I think we can talk about it when we’re closer to the date. I’m going to go get some iced tea from downstairs. Anyone want anything?”
The two of them shook their heads as one.
On her way down the stairs, Emily paused to trace the picture of the four of them on the wall. Before she could retrace the features she knew by heart, her phone rang, the sound slicing through the air. She fished it out of her pocket and took the rest of the stairs quickly. By the time she reached the landing, she was being connected to the manager of the bank, Mr. Hershville himself.
“Mrs. Ricker, thank you for holding.”
Emily stepped into the kitchen and switched the phone from one ear to the other. “Thank you for getting back to me so quickly, Mr. Hershville. I understand that you’re a busy man.”
When she swung the refrigerator door open, she listened to the sound of papers being shuffled. Then, there was a steady rise and fall of conversation, followed by a quiet click.
Mr. Hershville cleared his throat. “Mrs. Ricker, I’m afraid your application to have the payment extended is going to be denied.”
Emily’s stomach dipped. “But it hasn’t been denied yet, right? That means I still have a chance to convince the bank to extend the loan—”
“Mrs. Ricker, I’m afraid you misunderstood me. I’m calling you as a favor to your grandparents. As you know, I’m very fond of your whole family.”
Emily tasted bile as she poured herself some iced tea. “Isn’t there anything else I can do? More references? What if I take out a mortgage on the house?”
“I’m afraid you don’t have enough of an income to get the bank to sign off on something like this.”
Emily set her glass down and gripped the counter. “Mr. Hershville, please. I put the bakery up as collateral. There’s got to be something I can do.”
Silence stretched between them.
Emily was nearing tears when he spoke again.
“Since you own a successful business, I’d suggest you look into getting a financial partner.”
Emily’s stomach tightened further. “Someone to buy the bakery?”
“They’d be part owner,” Mr. Hershville explained. “That’s the best thing to do in a situation like yours. You just need to find someone willing to invest.”
Emily ran a hand over her face. “You wouldn’t happen to know anyone, would you?”
Mr. Hershville exhaled. “Unfortunately, I don’t. I’ll be in touch if anything changes. Good luck to you, Mrs. Ricker.”
“Thank you,” Emily murmured in a whisper-soft voice.
As soon as the line went dead, she tossed her phone onto the counter and buried her face in her hands. Over and over, she kept repeating his words in her head and wondering what she was meant to do next. If she couldn’t pay the loan back, she was going to end up losing so much more than just her bakery.
For the first time since learning about the money Trevor owed, Emily was angry.
She was angry she’d put up the bakery as collateral and even angrier that Trevor hadn’t come clean when he had the chance.
Now, she was standing on the edge of an abyss with no one to pull her back.
She couldn’t bear the thought of putting this burden on anyone else’s shoulders.
With a few weeks left to pay the loan, she needed to come up with a solution, and she needed to come up with it soon.
Time was running out fast.
Emily’s eyes burned with unshed tears, and as she set the pitcher of iced tea down on a tray, along with a few glasses and a plate of cookies, her chest tightened with worry and fear. Her heart was thudding painfully against her chest, and she tasted her earlier breakfast of eggs and toast on the tip of her tongue. Emily had to take several deep breaths to keep herself from sinking to the floor and breaking out into tears.
She still held the phone in her hand when she drifted to the stairs and studied a picture of their family hanging on the wall.
It was one of the first pictures of the four of them, standing on the front lawn of the house, underneath the midmorning sun, sporting tans and identical bright smiles. In the picture, Trevor had his arm around her, and she was glancing at him longingly. Charlotte and Savannah had their arms wrapped around each other and were grinning from ear to ear.
Emily wanted so badly to go back to that time.
A single tear slid down her cheek when she closed her eyes, and it took another few minutes to be able to catch her breath.
Everything felt like it was closing in on her, leaving no way out.
When she climbed back up the stairs, her stomach was in tight knots the entire time. She found Charlotte and Savannah admiring her old clothes, and some of the tightness in her chest abated.
Maybe things weren’t so hopeless after all.
A few hours later, her conversation with the bank manager was still on her mind as Emily wandered through the church’s basement with a drink in one hand and a plastic plate piled with frozen pizza and donuts in the other. Since arriving half an hour ago, Emily hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her options and how she’d have to go into business with a complete stranger if she wanted to save Decadent Treats.
Emily was in desperate need of a miracle.
She slunk into the chair in the back, set the plate down next to her, and linked her fingers together. Near the end of the meeting, Amy came racing down the stairs, bundled in a brown coat and her wet hair plastered to her forehead. She offered everyone an apologetic smile and looked visibly relieved when she saw Emily in the back.
“You made it.” Emily set the plate on her lap and gave Amy a bright smile. “I’m so glad you decided to come.”
“I’m glad I made it before it was over. I fell asleep on the couch after my shower,” Amy explained in a low voice. “There was a rerun of that old sitcom, the one with those friends…”
Emily snorted. “You sound like my husband. He never could remember the names of shows and movies, and he used to go on and on with these elaborate descriptions, as if that was going to help.”
Amy smiled. “It sounds like he and I would’ve gotten along.”
“I’m sure you would’ve. It was easy to like Trevor,” Emily added, her smile fading. “I guess that’s part of what made losing him so hard, you know. Sometimes, I wish I could hate him, so I wouldn’t miss him so much.”
“I’m sure you don’t actually want that.”
Emily’s throat closed up, and a single tear slid down her cheek. “You’re right. I don’t, but it’s hard missing him every minute of every day. I wake up at night reaching for him, and each morning, when I wake up alone, it’s like I’ve lost him all over again.”
Amy covered Emily’s hands with hers. “I’m so sorry, Emily. I can’t even imagine how hard this must all be for you. In case it wasn’t obvious, I think you’re really brave and strong.”
Emily let out a low, humorless chuckle. “I don’t know how brave or strong I feel. Most days, it takes everything I have just to keep my head above water and not feel like I’m drowning in my own sorrow.”
“I understand,” Amy said finally. “All I can say is it won’t always feel this way. Someday, it’s not going to feel like each day is a struggle.”
Emily brought her head to rest against Amy’s side and exhaled, the smell of sugar and vanilla wafting over her. “I really hope so.”