Chapter 11
The lights from the giant wheel illuminated the night sky. Emily fought a shiver of excitement as she waited beside Dalton. Thankfully, the line moved swiftly, and it wasn’t long until Emily sat beside him in a red cart.
The attendant, an older man with bad teeth, clicked the bar into place, then motioned to his coworker. The cart immediately gave a lurch and started its journey upward.
“I haven’t been on one of these in ages.” Emily sat back and breathed a happy sigh. “My friend Irene loved Ferris wheels. Whenever the fair came to town, it was the one ride we had to go on.”
“Irene.” Dalton rolled the name around on his tongue. “It’s a beautiful name, but one you don’t hear often.”
“Haven’t you heard?” Emily kept her tone light. “Old-fashioned names have been experiencing a resurgence.”
He only smiled.
As the wheel jolted upward as each cart was filled, Emily leaned forward. She breathed in the sweet, fried goodness of funnel cakes, the enticing fragrance of barbecue smoke from the grills and the buttery and salty scent of popcorn.
The wonderful and diverse range of scents that contributed to the vibrant atmosphere had a wave of nostalgia washing over her.
From where she sat, looking out over GraceTown, it was as if nothing had changed. Yet everything had. At least in her world. “This is amazing.”
When Dalton didn’t reply, she turned in her seat and found him studying her. When her eyes met his, he smiled.
“You say that as if you’re seeing it all for the first time.”
“It feels that way.” She returned his smile, then shifted her attention back to the sky. “I haven’t always, you know, taken time to smell the roses.”
Good humor lit his blue eyes. “I haven’t heard that expression in a while.”
“I was so focused on getting done what needed to be done and focusing on what others wanted that I neglected my own needs and wants and failed to fully appreciate everything around me.”
Not saying a word, Dalton placed a hand over the top of the one she’d rested lightly on the bar.
For a second, Emily reveled in the warmth of his skin and the gentle support.
“I’m doing things differently now.” Emily thought of all the activities she’d crammed into her life since that day in the park. “I’m making more time for fun, for me. And even more important, I’m savoring all the sweet, simple moments, like this one.”
Emily spotted a family group down below. The littlest girl wore a crown and held a balloon sporting the image of a birthday cake.
The memories flooding back forced Emily to blink back sudden tears.
“What’s wrong?” Dalton asked.
“Nothing. I was just thinking of my father and all the ways he showed me he cared. He wasn’t one for parties, but each year on my birthday, he made sure we celebrated.” She took a breath and let it out slowly. “I took so much for granted.”
Dalton gave her hand a squeeze. “I think we’re all guilty of that.”
“I’m doing better at embracing moments now,” Emily told him.
“My grandfather died last year.” Dalton’s eyes took on a distant look. “He was a great guy, the rock of our family. Though he wasn’t the most demonstrative man, he showed his love to all of us in so many ways. Ways I took for granted.”
“I read somewhere that we should consider mistakes stepping stones to wisdom.”
“It’s a good thought.” Dalton nodded. “And, thankfully, we both have lots of time to learn those life lessons.”
Emily nodded. The youth elixir had given her that time.
Dalton’s arm slipped to rest lightly around her shoulders. As the wheel made a second and third rotation, she wondered what it would be like to kiss him.
“How’s the job search coming?”
The question jerked her from her reverie.
“I ran into Chloe yesterday, and she mentioned you had a hot lead on a new job.”
“The hot lead fizzled.” Emily’s lips quirked up in a wry smile. “There was an opening at one of the high schools for a music teacher. I thought I had a real chance, but I got the rejection letter this afternoon.”
“That’s tough.” His gaze turned thoughtful. “Have you looked at any of the private schools in the area? I bet they’d love to have someone with your credentials on staff.”
“I haven’t, but you’re right, they may be more open to someone without a teaching certificate.”
“Do you ever regret leaving the symphony?”
For a second, Emily wondered how he knew, then she realized that his sister must have mentioned it to him. “I was honored to play in BSO and to have a leadership role. But being a concertmaster is demanding. Not only are you expected to attend all rehearsals, both full and sectional, there would be solo passages to prepare for. In addition, there are administrative responsibilities and community-engagement duties.”
When Emily paused to take a breath, she realized she’d told him far more than necessary. She’d been showing off her knowledge, after diving deep into what being a concertmaster meant. She gave a little laugh. “That’s the long answer. The short one is no, I don’t regret leaving.”
Though she could see he didn’t fully understand the why of it, he nodded, then changed the subject again. “So the job hunt hit a snag, but what about moving out of the Oasis?”
“Let’s just say, if you see me sleeping on a park bench soon, be sure to stop and say hello.”
His eyes widened. “Surely your situation isn’t as dire as all that.”
Emily’s phone buzzed, a jarring sound that she’d meant to change, but hadn’t yet taken the time. Pulling the phone from her bag, she quickly scanned the text, replied, then slipped the phone back into her purse.
Seeing the curiosity in Dalton’s eyes, Emily answered his question without making him ask.
“Chloe just wanted to make sure I’m really okay with taking an Uber home.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her I really am fine with it.”
“Would you be okay with me driving you back to the hotel?”
“That would be nice, but I’m not ready to leave yet, so if you are, I?—”
“I’m not ready to go either.”
After grabbing a quick bite to eat at an open-air hut serving a variety of seafood dishes, they went straight for the games of chance. Despite knowing the games were rigged, they had fun trying to pop balloons with darts, tossing rings onto bottles and even playing a version of Whac-A-Mole.
“I’m glad we didn’t win.” Emily laughed when they came up short—again—on the last game. “There’s no space in my hotel room for a teddy bear that’s taller than me. And I’m definitely not sharing my park bench with a bear.”
By the time they left the fair, Emily was in high spirits, and Dalton appeared content to let her do most of the talking on the drive back to the hotel. Instead of pulling into the loading zone, he snagged a spot on the street.
When she reached for the door handle, his hand on her arm had her turning back, her heart leaping to her throat. Was he going to kiss her?
She licked her lips. “Wh-what is it?”
His gaze searched hers. “Answer me honestly. Are you really close to being homeless?”
“I have options,” Emily began, but Dalton’s direct gaze had her hesitating. “Okay, nothing firm, but I did respond to an ad from a girl who said she’ll have a room coming up soon—a share in a house with five other girls. The downside is it’s kind of far away with no place to park, but I don’t have a car anyway. Plus, I’ve never lived with a big group of girls, and it sounds like it could be fun.”
“I think I may have an alternative for you to consider.”
“Tell me.” Emily didn’t bother to hide her eagerness.
“I know someone who would be a fantastic roommate. There are a few particular rules to follow, but the house is big and beautiful. Best of all, you wouldn’t have to pay a dime in rent.”
Emily rested her head back against the settee. Ignoring the glass of red wine she’d poured when she’d reached her room, she closed her eyes and let her mind drift to Dalton’s offer.
Startled, and not knowing what to say even after he’d explained the situation, she had simply said she needed to think about it and had deferred giving him a firm answer. Waiting didn’t appear to be an issue as he’d clarified he needed to check with his father to make sure he would be on board with the offer.
Which gave Emily tonight to get her thoughts together.
His grandmother, Myra Edwards, had recently experienced a scary heart episode and was waiting to have a cardiac device implanted.
Though there was household staff around during the day, Myra was alone at night. The family wanted someone in the house from ten p.m. to seven a.m. When Dalton had mentioned that the person could sleep in the adjacent room—they just needed to be available if Myra needed assistance—Emily had nearly asked why one of the family simply didn’t stay at the house until the surgery.
Not my business,she’d told herself, swallowing the question.
She knew Myra. Or at least knew who she was. They had never been friends. Myra and her husband, Walt, had run in a more affluent social circle.
Myra was also a good ten years younger than Til had been, which put her in her early eighties. Walt, who’d been Til’s age, had passed away last year.
If Dalton’s father agreed—and Emily accepted—she could stay in Myra’s house without charge, be paid for her time and could use the house as a home base.
The commitment would be for only a month or so, just until Myra had the procedure.
This type of “job” wasn’t what Emily had had in mind when starting her new life. Then again, while she was figuring out next steps, she did need a place to live and a way to make money beyond busking.
This would be a stopgap. Not only would sleeping there at night not interfere with her day-to-day, she would be helping a family in need.
Opening her eyes, Emily reached for the wineglass, her decision made. If Dalton got the go-ahead from his father, and they could come to terms on salary, Emily would accept the offer.
Though she knew it was the right decision, Emily felt restless and unable to settle, even after finishing off the glass of wine and getting ready for bed.
She let her mind drift, remembering another time, another county fair. One she’d attended with her best friend, Irene Anderson.
From the time they were small, Irene had been the sister Til had never had and the confidante she’d desperately needed. The two girls had shared their hopes and their dreams with each other. There had not been a single doubt in her mind—or in Irene’s—that they would be forever friends.
Then Irene’s life had come to an end. Measles had hit GraceTown hard in the 1940s. For some reason, Til had been spared. Irene passed away on a warm summer day, two days short of her fifteenth birthday.
Til had grieved when her mother died, but Irene’s loss had been one she hadn’t been certain she would ever recover from. For weeks, all she’d done was cry. Her father, an understanding man, had let her grieve, but finally he’d had enough.
He’d told her he loved her, but she needed to get back to living.
The only reason she’d been able to do as he’d asked was because of the letters she’d written, and would continue to write, to Irene after her friend’s passing.
In those letters, she’d poured out her heart.
Even after the sharp pain in her heart had receded, she had continued to write to Irene, confiding things she never told anyone else.
Problems that had troubled her were put down on the page. It was funny, but despite the one-way fashion of the letter-writing, she felt as if Irene read every word. That had brought her comfort.
She’d kept the letters in the bottom drawer of her dresser.
As the years had passed, she’d written fewer and fewer letters, dwindling to one or two a year. The mere act of writing to her dear friend had continued to settle her in a way that nothing else had.
Emily thought of the box she’d retrieved when she’d been at the house to get the money in the coffee can. It was filled with letters so deeply personal she hadn’t been able to leave them behind.
Taking a deep breath, she retrieved it from the dresser. The first letter she opened had been written after her first date with Vincent.
I went on my very first date ever tonight. Vince took me to see a movie at the Bijou and then to dinner at Seafood Sammy’s. I felt awkward at the beginning of the evening, but Vince was so kind…
Reading the details of the date had Emily’s lips curving as the night came flooding back. When he’d taken her home that night and walked her to the door, Vince hadn’t kissed her, though the look in his eyes had said he wanted to.
It was the same look she’d seen in Dalton’s eyes this evening.
Emily’s heart rate quickened.
Pulling out a piece of paper and pencil, she did what she’d done for so many years when she’d needed a confidante.
Dearest Irene,
Today was very much a roller-coaster ride. It plummeted when I got notice that the local school system turned down my application. Then Chloe invited me to attend the county fair with her and two friends.
I was excited and had high hopes for the evening. While cordial, the three women know each other well. I soon felt very much like a tagalong.
Making new friends—good friends—takes time. That’s what I keep telling myself.
I was considering begging off with some excuse and heading back to the hotel when I met up with Dalton Edwards. He’s a professor at Collister College and a gentleman. We broke off from the group, and I had the most incredible evening. I feel he genuinely likes me.
And—I’m trying hard not to squeal right now—he may have a lead on a place I can rent. I should have more details in a few days.
The roller coaster may have hit some valleys on its way to the top of the tracks, but this evening ended at the summit.
I think he wanted to kiss me, Irene. I know I definitely wanted to kiss him.
There’s so much more to tell, little details that I know you’d appreciate, but then this would be an essay, not a letter.
I hope you know just how much I wish you were here with me so we could talk and laugh like we used to.
Please know you are always in my thoughts.
Your bosom friend,
Til
The next afternoon, Emily sat across from Ken Edwards in his downtown office. The building housing his office, which specialized in real estate law, was a short walk from the hotel.
Dalton had texted Emily that morning that the job was practically hers. All she had to do was meet with his dad and get his approval. Since it was the weekend, she was surprised that he’d wanted to meet at his office.
Emily also found it interesting that Ken was the one who had the final say on who would be sleeping in Myra’s house, not the woman herself.
Ken leaned slightly forward, his easy smile tempered by the assessing look in his eyes. Emily understood his caution. This was his mother.
After several heartbeats, he spoke. “Dalton tells me that you’re new to GraceTown.”
“I am.” Emily had settled herself in the chair he’d indicated, which left his large mahogany desk between them.
The position of power,she thought, stifling a smile.
He could have easily directed her to several chairs and a love seat grouped for conversation when she’d entered the office, but he’d instead motioned to the visitor chair, then resumed his seat behind the desk.
Perhaps another person might have been cowed by this man with his hand-tailored suit and air of authority. Not her.
Emily remembered all too well the tantrums “little Kenny” had thrown at various community events when he’d been small, behavior that had usually resulted in his parents ordering the nanny to take him home.
Besides, Emily didn’t want this job enough to be nervous. If it worked out, she’d do it. If not, she felt sure something better was on the horizon.
“You were in Baltimore prior to coming here.”
At Dalton’s request, Emily had taken a picture of her résumé and forwarded it to Ken, so he’d had plenty of time to look at it.
“I was,” she said. “That information is in the résumé I sent this morning.” She smiled and inclined her head. “Did you have a chance to glance at it?”
“I did. I called and verified your tenure with the orchestra. They said it was your choice not to renew your contract.” Puzzlement filled his eyes. “They had nothing but positive things to say.”
Emily did her best to hide her relief. While she didn’t understand how Serena had made that happen, she was grateful. Then again, anyone who could come up with a youth elixir undoubtedly had other tricks at her disposal.
“That’s nice to hear.”
“What I don’t understand is why you quit and why you’re in GraceTown now.”
Emily lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “I wanted a change. I’m not sure what that change will look like yet, but I was ready for something different.”
“And babysitting an old woman appeals to you?”
She wasn’t sure which term grated more—babysitting or old woman. Myra was his mother. In her mind, using such words reeked of disrespect. She ignored the question.
“There are a few things that are still unclear that I’m hoping you can clarify. Dalton indicated I’d be sleeping in Mrs. Edwards’s home and would need to be available to tend to her needs during the hours of ten p.m. to seven a.m. During the other hours, there would be household staff around. In addition to free room and board, I would be financially compensated and be able to use the kitchen and other parts of the house during the day.”
This last concession was a deal-breaker. Even though it sounded as if she would be here for only a month, Emily wanted a place where she could not only sleep, but live.
“Your use of the house would not include having parties or entertaining friends during your free hours.” Ken met her gaze, the warning in his tone coming through loud and clear. “There are many valuable antiques in the home and?—”
“I understand,” Emily cut in, then immediately regretted the rudeness. “I can assure you that parties aren’t my thing. I simply want to make sure that I won’t be expected to remain in my room during my free hours.”
“Of course.”
“Another question. Dalton was unable to tell me the salary for this position.” Emily had done her research this morning, calling several area agencies to find out what they charged for a health aide for an overnight shift.
The hourly amount quoted had made her blink. All three agencies had also been quick to inform her that they currently didn’t have overnight staff available.
“We would be willing to pay you…”
The figure Ken put out there was half what the agencies would have charged. While she would have access to the house, she would also be a constant, compared to two or three different caregivers supplied by the agency. Assuming, of course, that the agency could find the staff.
Emily shook her head. “I’m sorry, but that isn’t enough for me to make this commitment. I would need…”
The amount she gave him was the amount that had been quoted to her that morning.
Ken feigned a look of shock. “Why, that’s?—”
“Exactly what any of the agencies in town would charge you,” Emily finished for him.
“Their employees are licensed and bonded,” he asserted.
“It doesn’t take much in the state of Maryland to be licensed as an aide.” Emily spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “Bonded is nice, but so is consistency.”
Ken studied her for several heartbeats.
Was that respect she saw in his eyes?
“If I were to agree to that amount, I would need a thirty- day commitment.”
Emily nodded. She’d be willing to commit to two months, figuring that it would take at least that long to figure out next steps. “I can do that, as long as Mrs. Edwards is agreeable.”
Ken waved off the comment and stood. “We have a deal. I’ll draw up the contract. We’ll meet at the house tonight and get everything finalized. You can meet my mother and start tomorrow.”
Emily pulled to her feet. “Who has been staying with her?”
“Jaclyn. She’s done her duty and is ready for it to be over.”
The done her duty part seemed to indicate that Jaclyn and her grandmother weren’t particularly close. Of course, it could simply be a figure of speech.
“I’ll see you there at eight.” Ken walked to the office door and opened it, effectively ending the interview.
Emily knew where Myra Edwards lived, but the address hadn’t been mentioned. Not by Dalton. Or by him.
“I’ll be there.” Emily stood. “Oh, one thing more.”
A watchful look filled Ken’s eyes. “What is it?”
She flashed a bright smile. “I need the address.”