Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
After the trolley tour around Nashville, Emmy and Madison visited the Country Music Hall of Fame and then the Grand Ole Opry—just as Madison had planned.
The day out was doing Emmy good. She was glad her sister had come with her.
She didn’t know how she’d have gotten through the wedding and Charlie’s date without her.
She and Madison strolled along Broadway, the thumping sound of all the bands, one after another, pouring through the open bar doors.
Even in the winter, the sidewalk was packed with tourists there for a holiday getaway.
Christmas trees dotted the street corners, and a few patrons had swapped their cowboy attire for Santa hats.
Emmy checked the time on her phone. “We still have some time before we have to get ready for the wedding. What do you want to do?”
“Want to go to the Goo Goo Cluster Chocolate Company?” Madison asked. “I need chocolate.”
“Absolutely. Chocolate sounds amazing.”
Even though they’d both agreed on the premise of a chocolate fix, the nostalgia of their mom’s favorite treat was the undercurrent. As girls, they’d giggled at the kitchen table while they nibbled the chocolate clusters with their mom.
Madison and Emmy walked along in the winter sunshine.
The sky was an electric blue, and Emmy was thankful for the mild temperatures.
Her coat and beanie kept her warm enough that they could make the few blocks’ walk to the chocolate company.
Nashville’s busy streets were different from New York’s.
The people here were more relaxed, more jovial.
Their energy and excitement seeped into her.
When they arrived, the place was like something out of Willy Wonka with floor-to-ceiling vats of marshmallow nougat, chocolate, and caramel.
There were large windows with a view into the stark white preparatory kitchen where spinning cylinders of milky chocolate swirled and rows upon rows of containers sat, full of decadent ingredients.
“Oh, look.” Madison pointed to a wall of gray kiosks. “You can design your own chocolate.”
“I’d like to find the regular ones that we ate as girls,” Emmy said, feeling homesick for those days of her childhood before the world turned upside down.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Madison linked her arm through Emmy’s.
Around the corner, they stumbled upon the gift shop and each settled on a white package with a single chocolate cluster inside: their mom’s favorite.
They paid for them and took a seat at one of the tables.
Emmy draped her coat on the chair and set her phone and clutch on the table.
She pulled the clusters from the carrier bag and handed one to her sister.
Emmy ran her finger over the red and baby-blue typography on the package. “I haven’t seen one of these in ages. Not since Mom had them.”
“Remember we got them every year for our birthday?” Madison said as she pulled at the outer edges of the packaging. She pinched the nutty cluster and held it up, inspecting it. “I’ll bet Mom got them for us as a reason to indulge herself.”
Emmy grinned. “I wonder if she can see us right now.”
“I don’t know.”
Emmy’s phone screen lit up with a push notification, diverting their attention. She gasped.
Madison leaned forward. “What?”
She held up the phone. “Mitchell Augustine emailed me back.”
“Stop it.” Madison’s eyes rounded. “We were just talking about Mom. What are the odds?”
Emmy set down her chocolate, opened the email, and scanned the message. She clapped a hand over her mouth.
“What?” Madison whined.
Through her fingers, she said, “He wants to get coffee.”
“Oh my gosh. When?”
“He didn’t say. He told me to email him with some times and dates.”
When she looked up at her sister, Madison alternated between rapid blinking and wide-eyed surprise.
“You’re going to have coffee with a billionaire.”
Only then did the panic set in.
The mystery of Mitchell Augustine was still on her mind as she zipped up the deep-green Garnet & Petticoat gown.
She felt uneasy wearing it now that Charlie had come with a date.
Would he recognize it? Had the shopkeeper sent him a photo or anything when he’d bought it?
Until she’d seen him with Amelia, Emmy had been excited to finally have a chance to wear it.
But now, would it send a message that she didn’t want to convey?
She dared not imply that it had some kind of sentimental value, that she’d chosen to wear it because Charlie would be there.
If only she’d packed a random dress with no story at all.
She slipped on her heels and stepped out of the bathroom.
“Wowzer,” Madison said. “You look incredible.”
Emmy tugged on the dress uncomfortably and smiled for her sister’s benefit. Instead of focusing on her own discomfort, she concentrated on her sister’s navy-blue cocktail-style dress. “That’s really pretty too.” She waggled a finger at her sister.
“Thanks. I got it just for this.”
They walked down to the lobby and boarded the hired shuttle to the venue. Madison took the first open seat and Emmy sat beside her, crossing her ankles, her mother’s beaded clutch in her hands.
Madison turned toward Emmy. “I forgot to ask: What did you get Adrienne?”
People filed onto the bus, taking seats around them.
“I got the cutlery set that was on her registry. I had it shipped to her. What did you get?” She asked the question, but her attention was on the other passengers.
Maybe she could get to the wedding and find a seat closest to the exit, so when they moved to the reception, she could get in and order a drink to settle her nerves before Charlie and Amelia came in.
It was silly to be anxious about them, but she couldn’t make her stomach and jittery hands understand.
“I did the same thing, but I got her sheets. They were on sale.”
When the shuttle finally pulled away, Emmy’s tension eased. Charlie and Amelia hadn’t made that run. She’d managed to avoid a twenty-minute trip in close quarters. She relaxed against the back of the seat.
“You okay?” Madison asked.
“I’m totally fine, why?”
“You look like you’re on edge.” Madison squinted at Emmy. “Is it Charlie?”
“Why would you think that?” she asked, hoping her burning cheeks weren’t showing on the outside.
“Because that would be the only plausible reason your shoulders are up near your earlobes.”
“His date, Amelia, seems like she has it all together, and I don’t.”
Her sister nodded thoughtfully.
“But it isn’t really about Amelia,” Emmy said. Might as well lay it all out if she was being honest. “Good for her if she has her life sorted out. It’s my own insecurity. I haven’t said anything to anyone—even myself—but I’m tired of working two jobs and getting nowhere. It’s exhausting.”
“Then make a change.”
Emmy leaned her head back against the seat. “It’s easier said than done.”
“I’m going to ask again: Do you have to live in New York City?
It’s so expensive. You’ve been there long enough to know that living in that apartment isn’t getting you any further.
Maybe try something more suburban? You could move to a smaller city, get your foot in the door with a startup PR firm or something. ”
“You’re probably right.” Emmy sighed. “I just didn’t want to settle. I wanted to shoot for the stars, but I keep missing.”
“Don’t think of moving to a smaller city as settling. It’s a step. Take one step at a time and see where it leads. Maybe, after you’ve worked those other jobs, you’ll land something big.”
“You’re so sensible. I get in my own way, it seems.”
“Because you’re a visionary at heart. You want the dream. I, on the other hand, am the queen of tiny steps. I don’t know how to shoot for the stars the way you and Mom do.”
“Don’t worry. You’re not missing much,” she teased.
“I’ll bet you’re the queen of latte art, though.”
Emmy grinned. “It’s surprisingly easier than it looks. I learned in a few days. It’s all in the flick of the wrist.”
The bus turned onto a street lined with stops, tucked away in an old East Nashville neighborhood.
The entire row of red-brick early-1900s buildings had been restored and converted into a wedding venue.
Lanterns with tulle bows lit the cobblestone walkway, and the aged wooden doors were draped in bundles of fresh roses in red and white.
“This is gorgeous,” Emmy said.
“It sure is.”
As the bus waited to park, Emmy opened her mom’s clutch, retrieving her compact and lipstick to quickly freshen up. As she did, the corner of a small piece of paper peeked out from the inside pocket—an old receipt or something. She pulled it out and unfolded it.
“What’s that?”
“I’m not sure.” She read the scratched handwriting.
Meet me on Rue des Lumières d’Automne at 8 p.m.
M.
“Probably a note from a friend. Mom must have tucked it away when she didn’t have a trashcan,” Emmy said.
Madison frowned skeptically. “That she tucked away in a designer beaded clutch?”
Emmy peered down at the small bag. Her dad had said that her mom had never used the clutch. She must have used it in Paris. How fabulous would it be for her mom to get a note from a friend to meet her on a street in Paris all dressed up?
“What does it say? The Street of... Autumn Lights?” Emmy eyed the “M.” at the bottom.
“And M for Mitchell?” Madison stole the thought right out of Emmy’s head.
“M could be anybody,” Emmy reasoned. “What if the French connection is a coincidence? What if Mom bought the purse here in the U.S.? Someone could have used it for a party and returned it. People do that with fancy stuff all the time.”
“Someone who happened to write French street names and signed notes with the initial of the one person of interest that Mom knew in Paris? The one guy whose name was written on Mom’s drawing, the guy who might have stolen her creative work, who wanted Mom to tell us how they knew each other?”
Emmy’s gaze ran over the handwriting. Was that actually Mitchell Augustine’s writing?
“What life did Mom live in Paris that we don’t know about?” Madison asked. “It sounds fascinating.”
“Now who’s the dreamer? Mom was a rational woman. We forget that she studied there for two years. The note could be from literally anyone.”
“Ma’am,” the driver called.
The bus was empty.
Emmy folded the paper and tucked it back into her purse. “Well, we won’t find any answers now. It’s wedding time.”
She and Madison filed off the bus. They walked the cobbled path, then passed between two sparkling Christmas trees at the building’s grand entrance.
Classical music poured through the large room.
They meandered through groups of people dressed in their finest attire who were admiring the bridal portrait on a bronze easel in the corner or stacking elegantly wrapped gifts on the table against the large wavy-glassed windows.
Chandeliers cast sparkles onto the wooden floors, the old boards creaking under their high heels.
Emmy pointed to the guestbook positioned on a small podium.
“Should we sign it and leave Adrienne a message?” Emmy asked.
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
As they walked that way, reality fell upon Emmy. Charlie and Amelia were visible through the double doors across the room, finding their seats among the rows of white folding chairs, all pointing toward a focal point created by an explosion of roses.
With a deep breath, Emmy went over and signed the guestbook, then handed the pen to her sister.
After they’d finished, they walked through the venue.
Emmy held her head high, trying to channel her mom’s energy.
The Garnet & Petticoat dress swished loosely around her ankles.
People noticed her, smiling kindly, their eyes lingering on her, making her feel seen for the first time in her life.
She’d never wanted attention, but if they were noticing her, would Charlie?
The hope withered as her gaze fell on Amelia.
In a long, silky gold gown with a fur coat draped over her arm, she was standing along the row of chairs in a group of people.
She commanded the room with a magnetism that Emmy imagined her mom would’ve had.
The comparison to herself made Emmy feel like a child in costume, playing dress-up.
The voice of doubt returned: ”You’ll never be like her.
” Her hands shook as she gripped her mother’s clutch.
“Is this good?” Madison gestured toward two seats at the end of an aisle.
“Yeah, that’s perfect,” Emmy replied. “I’m going to duck into the ladies’ room really quickly. I’ll be right back.”
Madison nodded.
On her way, Emmy had the urge to run out of the building, call an Uber back to the hotel, and skip out on the whole ordeal.
She burst through the bathroom door and set her clutch on the counter.
Then, she leaned against the edge and hung her head.
Everything inside her wished she could avoid this moment, but if she ever wanted to have even a shred of the confidence she’d seen in Amelia, she had to confront the situation. I’m exhausted already, she thought.
She lifted her head and looked at herself in the mirror.
For the first time, she could see the cost of living in her mom’s shadow.
Her mom’s life had seemed perfect, and with all her talent, Emmy was supposed to live up to it, yet she was failing miserably.
She doubted she’d ever command a room like Amelia or her mother.
So where did that leave her? She didn’t have the answers, but what she did know was that she could no longer continue the way she was going.
Perhaps Madison was right, and she should leave New York to find something lower key.