Chapter Eight
Bryce
Bryce still wasn’t sure what he was doing here as he followed Emma to the back of the store, where she let him through a small
doorway into a cramped office.
He couldn’t seem to stay away from her. He had tried. For two weeks, he had purposely not stopped in at the bookstore. Cowardly
on his part, he knew, but he didn’t seem to have much willpower when it came to Emma Lucas.
Despite his best efforts, thoughts of her intruded during the oddest moments. First thing in the morning while he was shaving,
while he was driving to a jobsite that passed by the high school, when he heard a certain song on the radio that reminded
him of her.
It wasn’t anything new, really. He had certainly thought often of Emma over the years. Working for her mother made it impossible
for him to completely work the fierce crush he used to have on her out of his system.
For the first few years he worked at Lucas Construction, Rosie seemed to go out of her way not to talk about her daughter.
The subject was obviously painful for her.
She had told him Emma was pregnant, though. And that she had broken off with the baby’s father.
After Rosie and Emma started to work on healing their relationship when Olive was born, his boss had talked about her daughter
and granddaughter often, usually with a mix of admiration and worry in her voice.
What had once been a childhood crush, a desperate effort to get her to notice him by whatever means possible, had begun to feel . . . deeper.
It was ridiculous, he knew. Emma didn’t even know him. Not really. She knew the troublemaking, wisecracking kid he had once
been but Bryce had tried to leave that persona behind a long time ago.
Now, as he followed her to the office, he reminded himself of all the reasons he had to keep his feelings to himself. If he
ever told her how often he thought about a woman he hadn’t seen in a decade, she would probably want to get a restraining
order against him.
His dog trotted along behind them, sniffing eagerly at the pizza box Emma set on the desk after she cleared away a stack of
papers.
“Settle down, Pearl. You’ve already had dinner,” he said.
The dog sighed and plopped down in the doorway. Emma opened the pizza box and handed him one of the paper plates she dug out
of a cabinet in the small corner of the office that appeared to also serve as the employee break area.
“Would you like something to drink? We keep some soda in the employee fridge, or I have tea.”
“I’ll grab some water. Would you like one?”
At her nod, he went to the watercooler and poured two cups for them then returned to set one beside her.
“I haven’t had pizza from this place yet. Is it decent?” she asked.
“I think you will be pleasantly surprised, as long as you like wood fired.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Maria Delmonico makes a fantastic dough and she tops it with fresh local ingredients. She even has a local farmer provide
homemade mozzarella.”
“Yum.”
“The next time you order, you’ve got to try her hand-mixed ice cream. She has a salted caramel that is divine.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. I love anything with salted caramel.”
“Same.”
He picked off the mushrooms and took a bite of the delicious pizza. As she took a bite as well, she made a small sound of
appreciation that felt oddly arousing.
He cleared his throat. “What are you doing back in town, Emma? I never thought you would return to Wood Briar. You always
seemed pretty determined to stay away.”
She took a sip of water. “While Grandma is on the injured list, my mom needs me. Or at least she says she does.”
“She does,” he assured her.
“I am hoping this summer will be good for Olive. I would like her to have a closer relationship with my mother and grandmother.
I’m also hoping my schedule will be more flexible here than it was in Las Vegas so I can spend more time with her.”
“Where is she tonight?”
“With my mom, who sent me a couple of pictures from the beach earlier. They went tide pooling apparently and ran into our
new celebrity author and his kids.”
She took another slice of pizza. “What about you?” she asked. “Why have you stuck around Wood Briar all these years? I always
had the impression you couldn’t wait to leave either.”
He hated thinking about the kid he had been in school, embarrassed about his chaotic homelife and filled with shame because
learning had been so tough on him.
“I couldn’t wait to leave school. I like the town fine. I had . . . reasons for staying.”
“Let me guess. A woman?”
“In the literal sense of the word, yes, but probably not what you think.”
He weighed how much to tell her then decided he had no reason to keep it a secret. She would find out soon enough, if she
didn’t already know.
“My mom is not well,” he finally said, doing his best to keep his voice emotionless. “Early onset dementia. She’s in a nursing
home up in Lincoln City. I’m all she has, so I haven’t felt like I could go far, even if I wanted to.”
Her face tightened with shock and sympathy. She hadn’t known, apparently.
“Oh man. That’s rough. I remember your mom from elementary school. Wasn’t she a lunch lady for a while? She was always very
kind.”
He took a swig of water, aching for the woman Terri Kendall hadn’t been for a long time. And would never be again.
“My mom hasn’t had an easy life, I’m afraid. From childhood on, things were rough for her. Some of the things she’s had to
deal with were out of her control, but she also made some pretty poor lifestyle choices. After my dad left when I was ten,
she did whatever she could to ease the pain. Drugs. Alcohol. Men.”
He paused, then admitted what he had told no one else. “Intellectually, I know this isn’t possible but sometimes I wonder
if her dementia is simply another way for her subconscious to help her escape her demons.”
Her eyes flashed bright and glittery, as if she were blinking back tears. “Oh, Bryce. I’m so sorry. I never realized you were
dealing with all of that. I can’t imagine how tough that’s been for you to handle by yourself.”
“Don’t make me out to be some kind of a hero,” he said, his voice low.
He could give her an earful about the frustration of those early years after his mother’s initial cognitive decline and about all the times he had railed against God or fate or biology or whatever was slowly stealing away his mother.
“You stayed in town to take care of your mom. I call that pretty heroic.”
“It’s not as if I’m doing the hands-on care. She’s in a good facility. I visit her every Sunday for a few hours and that’s
about the extent of it.”
She gave him a long look, her expression still drenched with compassion. “Is your mom the reason you bought a coloring book
and all those magazines that first day I saw you here in the store?”
He shrugged. “She likes all the colorful pictures in magazines, especially the celebrity ones. Sometimes she cuts out pictures
she likes and tapes them up on her wall. I never know exactly what is going to grab her interest. She had a John Deere tractor
ad up for about three months, for reasons I still don’t understand.”
“And she likes to color? I found a bunch of adult coloring books I had planned to sell at the sidewalk sale. I would love
to give them to your mom and the other patients at her facility instead.”
That was what he remembered about Emma. She was always kind to everyone, even long-haired skateboarder punks like he had been.
“That would be great. She and her friends all love to color. But I’m happy to buy them. You don’t have to donate them. Your
mom pays me a very good salary and I don’t have that many things to spend it on.”
“I want to,” she said. “Remind me to grab them before you go.”
“Thank you.”
“How did you come to be working for Lucas Construction?” she asked after a moment.
“I started when we were back in high school. The summer before our senior year.”
He wasn’t surprised she didn’t remember. That was around the time she had basically become a different person, more interested
in hanging out with the stoners and partiers than anything else.
“You remember that job I suggested to Jack? Cleaning up jobsites at the end of the day? That’s where I started. After graduation,
your mom offered me regular employment, though I didn’t know much about construction except what I learned in high school
shop class. Rosie has been great to me. I owe her more than I can say.”
“She thinks very highly of you,” Emma said stiffly.
“And vice versa.”
They talked about people they both knew until Emma pushed her plate away. “Well, you’re right. That pizza was deliciously
addicting.”
“See? Wood Briar has a few other things to recommend it besides the nice people and the beautiful scenery.”
Her mouth twisted into a smile and he wondered what she would do if he leaned over and kissed her right here in this cramped
office.
“Thanks for sharing with me,” he said instead. “Now put me to work so I can pay for my supper.”
“I won’t turn down your help, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I’m at your service,” he said. For whatever you might need.
“You’re probably going to be sorry you offered. I need a lot of help.”
“Point me in the right direction.”
She put him to work moving boxes of books for the sidewalk sale the next day. He hauled a dozen heavy boxes and stacked them
near the front door while Emma continued going through shelves to pull out inventory.
“How are you planning to display all these books for the sale?”
“Apparently Grandma uses a couple of folding tables and puts the boxes on that. The bookstore also has a shelter she puts
up in case of a sudden rainstorm. I guess I need to bring those out, too. They’re back in the storage area.”
“I’ll grab them. Point me in the right direction.”
“I’ll have to show you.”
She led him through a small hallway near the single restroom to a doorway with a sign that said Staff Only on it. The space
was perhaps fifteen or twenty feet across, running nearly the entire length of the store.
He looked around, taking in their surroundings. The area was windowless and narrow but the high ceiling gave an impression
of space. His mind raced with possibilities. “Why is this used for storage instead of retail space?”
“Believe me, I’ve wondered the same thing. If I had unlimited resources, I would love to create a doorway through the wall
of the main retail store and expand into here.”
“That coffee and pastry shop we talked about would be perfect in here. You could take the whole front half for that. You could
even punch a window out onto Main Street.”
“Is that possible?” She looked intrigued and excited at the idea, her features bright and animated.
“Why not? Rosie owns the whole building. She can do what she wants, as long as she doesn’t break any zoning restrictions.
As this is already zoned commercial, she should be fine to expand into here.”
Emma looked around and he could almost see the wheels spinning in her head. “We could move several sections of books here, which would free up room over on the other side for a few reading nooks.”
“You could even set up a small area in the back for book events and author readings.”
“Oh, that would be fantastic!”
He loved seeing her face light up with excitement. She looked younger, happier. Her eyes sparkled and her smile seemed to
brighten the whole room
For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like if she could always be this happy and carefree. Too soon,
her excitement seemed to ebb away. Her shoulders slumped slightly, and a small furrow appeared between her brows.
“It would be so much work, though. And I’m not sure Mom wants to put that much money into the bookstore right now.”
“She asked you to come home to revitalize the place. She has to expect some degree of capital outlay as part of that.”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to her.”
He wanted her to have this. He wanted her to succeed in Wood Briar and make a new life for herself and her daughter here.
“My evening schedule is pretty open right now, except for Sundays when I go to see my mom and Wednesday nights. That’s when
I play on the Lucas Construction softball team. On the other days, I usually work till about seven but I could come here after
that.”
She sent him a long look and he didn’t miss the shadow of wariness there, as if she didn’t know how to deal with someone offering
to help her. His chest ached at the thought of her trying to handle everything by herself for so many years.
“Why are you being so nice to me? Is it because you feel like you owe my mom?”
Her mother had nothing to do with it. While he did owe Rosie for channeling his youthful restlessness into work he loved that
provided a comfortable living, he wanted to help Emma for her own sake.
“I love the bookstore and agree it definitely needs a refresh. I want this place to be here for a long time,” he said.
And I want you and Olive to be here for a long time, too.
“I can come tomorrow and help you paint the wall. If you give me the paint color you’re using, I can pick up a can or two
of the same color for the bookshelves.”
“That would be great,” she exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you for all your
help.”
He could think of several ways but decided it probably wouldn’t be wise to mention any of them.
He wanted to do more to ease her burden somehow. But he knew Emma well enough to understand that she wouldn’t accept charity
or pity.
For now, he would focus on one bookshelf, one wall, one day at a time. And maybe, just maybe, he could help bring some of
that light back into Emma’s eyes and help her feel like she truly belonged back home.