Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
This was shaping up to be the perfect Christmas.
Emmy found a mini magic fortune-telling ball that would be entertaining for the White Elephant gift.
The ball’s answers caught her attention with things like “Not on your life” and “If you’re lucky.
” When she saw it in the toy store, she imagined the family sitting around it, asking it questions and snickering at the unconventional responses.
She’d wrapped it up in cheerful gold-and-red paper with a trailing bow on the top.
The next day, more good luck: Emmy’s flight arrived in Nashville a few minutes early, under a bright blue sky.
Her bag was the first to show up on the conveyor belt at the baggage claim, which was unheard of.
As if she’d been doused in Christmas cheer, she’d scraped up enough money to rent a small vehicle rather than getting a cab since she’d be there for a few days.
They’d run out of compact cars at the car rental hub, so they upgraded her rental.
She drove to her childhood home in a roomy SUV hybrid.
On the drive, she rehearsed conversation starters to use with Charlie when he arrived.
If he, or anyone else for that matter, asked her about her job, she decided that she wouldn’t lie about it, but she might try to scoot around the topic if she could.
Then, after the holiday, she’d focus on her job situation.
She’d put herself in Vivienne’s calendar for after the holiday, to sit down with her and get clarity on whether she had a future at The Moreau Agency.
But she didn’t plan to talk about work at Christmas anyway.
Just in time for Emmy’s trip, her old high school friend Adrienne had reached out to get her address: She was engaged to a banker she’d met on a blind date and wanted to send out a wedding invitation.
That would give her and Charlie common ground until they opened presents, since they both knew Adrienne.
Then, her magic ball would be the hit of the night, and she and Charlie could come up with funny questions to ask it.
She’d thought through enough to get them going.
Filling in the empty time would be easy with Charlie.
After a big hug from her dad and her sister, Emmy was gathered in the kitchen with everyone, sipping a mug of cinnamon tea while Aunt Elsie complimented her on her new shirt.
“Do you usually wear your hair like that?” Elsie asked happily, squinting at her.
Emmy ran her fingers through the curls. “No, it’s just something I started doing recently.”
“It suits you.”
“Your hair always looks pretty,” Madison said, as she pinched a brownie bite with crushed peppermint garnish and popped it into her mouth.
“Those are for dessert,” Aunt Charlotte scolded. “We’re having our big dinner in the dining room first this year, remember?” She shooed her away. “Have a Christmas Sparkler.” Charlotte nodded toward the champagne concoction. “I found the recipe online.”
“I’m just eating backwards like we did when we were kids,” Madison said.
Emmy chimed in as she and her sister said, “Dessert first.”
Fondness for her sister bubbled up.
As Elsie settled into a nearby conversation about pie crust techniques with Charlotte, Emmy finished her tea and set the mug in the sink.
“How’s it going in the big city?” Uncle Stephen asked from behind her.
She turned to face him. “It’s going…”
“Any interesting clients on the horizon?”
He was only making conversation, but she’d already decided her job wasn’t going to be the topic of conversation.
“I was thinking about finding some new clients,” she said.
“Maybe go out on my own.” What? Why had she said that?
Sure it had crossed her mind, but she’d never intended to act on it.
She was trying to make this a better holiday, yet there she was, lying about her job like she said she wouldn’t do.
She’d just blurted the words, without thinking. What had been her motivation?
She busied herself with nibbling a ham biscuit.
A wave of fear brought with it the realization that she didn’t think she was really happy in her job. Not just the position, but the job. With all the commotion, she was probably just overly thoughtful or something. Surely, she’d be fine.
“Have you ever started a business?” Uncle Stephen asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. “It takes a lot of work. And money.”
“Yeah, it was just a thought,” she said.
Her dad, who’d evidently caught wind of the conversation, put his arm around her.
“Dreams are good to have,” he said with an encouraging pat on the shoulder.
“Maybe start looking into it while you’re doing your job now.
It’s a lot easier to plan when you have full health and dental.
” He snagged a fistful of pretzels, then took the remote control from the counter and flicked on the small kitchen TV.
“I recorded the big game on DVR so we could all watch together.”
“Who’s playing?” Jack asked.
“Packers and the Bears.”
The men settled at the kitchen table, focused on the pre-game show. They fell into deep conversation about team matchups, player stats, and coaching strategies while the women buzzed back and forth between the kitchen and dining room.
“I haven’t eaten since lunch, except for the brownie, and I’m starving,” Madison said when Emmy returned to her original spot at the edge of the kitchen island to pick up the stack of her mother’s plates. Aunt Charlotte had gotten out the ones with printed Christmas trees around the edge.
Emmy peered over at the clock. “Well, it is almost dinner time.”
She’d been chatting with her family for over an hour, and while conversation hadn’t been perfect, she wasn’t emotionally exhausted.
Perhaps there was something to her mother always looking so polished.
Emmy had put in extra effort today, and not only did she feel more cheerful, her family seemed less annoying.
“Want to grab the silverware, and we can start setting the table?” Emmy asked.
Madison opened the drawer, scooped up a handful of cutlery, and followed Emmy into the dining room.
The dining table was dressed in a red tablecloth with a beaded runner down the center. Emmy set the plates on the edge and began putting them at the places, one at a time.
The walls were still lined with portraits of Emmy, Madison, and their parents, but her mom’s portrait was the largest, painted in oil with Anne looking regal.
Her extended family had pitched in to have it painted for the funeral, and her dad hung it there afterward.
It was a stunning rendering, but its original purpose cast a cloud over the piece for Emmy.
“Do we need to set a place for Charlie? What time is he coming over?” Madison asked, her attention on the array of plastic-wrap-covered platters displayed along the sideboard—everything from lasagna squares to cheesecake truffles.
“I’m not sure. I didn’t ask specifics.”
Her sister grabbed two dessert plates and handed one to Emmy. “Taste-test?” She nodded toward the food.
“We shouldn’t.”
“Why? We live here.” Madison added a few sausage-and-cream-cheese pinwheels to her plate.
“On our last work call before we broke for the holiday,” she continued, “we made small talk about coffee drinkers. I swear, he told everyone he was arriving early because he mentioned getting his mom’s favorite coffee on the way into town to surprise her for breakfast.”
“I doubt he’ll want to eat with us. I’m sure he’s involved with his own family,” Emmy said.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Let’s sneak away and pour ourselves a couple of those Christmas Sparklers that Aunt Charlotte made. Then we can text him and find out.” Her eyebrows bounced as she popped a pinwheel in her mouth.
“Madison Marie.” Aunt Charlotte wagged a finger at her from the doorway. “Can you not wait fifteen minutes? The timer just went off for the turkey.
“I’m sooo hungry,” Madison protested.
Charlotte paced over to the sideboard and rearranged the pinwheels to cover up the empty spots. “Don’t let Aunt Elsie see you. She’ll send you to your room like a child.” She winked at Madison, making Emmy chuckle.
“You too!” Charlotte pointed at Emmy playfully. “Go on. I’ll take over setting the table.”
“Are you sure?” Emmy asked.
“There’s not much left to do.” Her aunt picked up the plates and finished setting them around the table. “Go on. Enjoy yourselves.”
Madison led the way into the kitchen and then poured them each a glass of Christmas Sparkler. Emmy took a sip of the cranberry and vanilla-flavored champagne.
“Let’s see what Charlie’s up to.” Her sister beckoned her into the living room.
“Why are you so worried about him?”
“The two of you got along really well. He made you smile a few times. It was good to see.” She waved a hand at her. “And you’re definitely spruced up this year. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
Emmy tutted. But she hoped the heat in her cheeks didn’t show on the outside. She plopped down on the sofa next to Madison and pulled out her phone. “I’ll just let him know I’m here.”
She fired off a text and set her phone on the coffee table.
“Did you talk to him at all after last Christmas?” Madison asked.
“Only the couple texts I mentioned.”
Madison pursed her lips. “I’d have thought you two would’ve carried on over the year.”
“I was working.”
Madison rolled her eyes. “You’re always working.”
Emmy shook her head. “How else will I pay the bills?”
“You make life harder than it has to be sometimes.”
“How so?”
“Don’t look at me with that sour face. It wasn’t meant to be a critique. I just meant in general.”
“In general? So I make life hard on myself a lot?”
“You’re barely scraping by in New York, working a job that’s beneath you. Why?”
“The city appeals to me.”
“I think, deep down, you like it because it reminds you of Mom.”
Emmy flinched in shock. “What?”
“Mom was a creative, big-city woman before she cashed it all in. She lived in Paris, for goodness’ sake. You’ve struggled the longest with her passing. I wonder if you’re putting yourself through this to feel closer to her.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she said, although Madison’s observation hit harder than it should have.
“If I wanted to feel close to her, I’d have gone into design, but I didn’t.
I’m carving my own path.” The words withered on her lips.
Her path wasn’t quite as smooth as she’d thought it would be.
There were times when she wondered if she’d chosen the right direction.
“Why, then, when you can work a PR job anywhere in the country? You might make less, but your rent will also be less outside of a major city, so your quality of life would improve.”
“New York has tons of promise,” she countered, feeling blindsided.
“There’s promise in other places, Emmy. You know that.”
Just then, Emmy’s phone pinged. It was a text from Charlie:
Hey! O’Hare is having some sort of technical issue, and my flight was canceled. I’m trying to get on another plane, but it’s madness. I’m about fifty people deep in line at the rebooking counter. Hope to see you soon.
“Oh, no,” Madison said as Emmy texted back that she hoped he’d make it home okay. “He’s stuck in Chicago? That’s awful.”
“Yeah,” Emmy said, trying to hide her disappointment.
Even if he got a flight, he’d have to wait for boarding, make the trip, and then get to the house. She wouldn’t see him tonight. She smoothed the small creases in her new blouse at the bend in her arm, but it didn’t matter anymore if it got wrinkled.
So much for the perfect Christmas.