Chapter 12
Emily took an Uber to Myra Edwards’s home. When the driver pulled to the curb in front of the three-story Victorian, Emily had to admit she was impressed. Dalton had been right; the house really was gorgeous.
She vaguely recalled seeing pictures of the interior in the Gazette’s society section back in the ’70s and ’80s.
Myra, Heritage League president, and her husband, Walt, GraceTown city councilmember and country club golf committee chair, had always been hosting—or attending—society events. Emily had liked reading the articles about parties held at the couples’ home. She’d enjoyed the pictures of the food and décor and searching for names she might recognize.
The only time she’d known anyone had been back in the late ’80s when Myra had hosted a garden party reception to honor outstanding community volunteers. Emily had known several of those mentioned in that article.
Emily wondered if Myra’s friends from the country club and Heritage League visited her now? Or had they forgotten her as she’d aged and was no longer in the thick of the social scene?
In recent years, Emily had experienced a little of that herself. She knew how it hurt to feel old and useless.
Keeping her focus on the here and now, Emily climbed the steps. Her feet had barely hit the porch when the door opened.
“Emily, welcome.” Dalton’s gaze shifted to the driver of the silver Toyota pulling away from the curb as he motioned her inside. “Who brought you?”
“Uber driver.” Emily waved a careless hand as she stepped into the elegant foyer.
“You should have said you needed a ride. I’d have been happy to pick you up.”
“Too late now.” Emily kept her tone light. “Besides, I don’t have your number.”
“That can be easily remedied.” Dalton took out his phone. “Take out yours.”
When she did, he held his phone close to hers.
“When that screen comes up…” He leaned close, and she inhaled the intoxicating scent of his cologne. “Hit share.”
In seconds, he was one of less than a handful of contacts on her phone.
“Success.” He grinned, and she couldn’t help but smile back as she dropped her phone into her purse.
“I’ll take you back to the hotel once we finish here.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Emily protested.
“I can take her.” Jaclyn appeared and startled Emily by grasping her arm. She lowered her voice. “You’ll be doing me a favor. Otherwise, I’ll get stuck hanging with Gran for the rest of the evening. I already have to come back and spend the night.”
“I’ll let Dad and Gran know you’re here.” Dalton disappeared down the hall.
“Your father mentioned you’ve been staying with your grandmother,” Emily said to Jaclyn.
Jaclyn made a face. “I drew the short straw. But once you start, I’m free.”
“You and your grandmother don’t get along?” Emily chose her words carefully, feeling as if she were picking her way barefoot down a garden path strewn with thorns.
“We get along okay, but let’s face it, Gran is old as dirt. We have zero in common.” As soon as they reached the front parlor, Jaclyn became all smiles. “Gran, I have a friend I’d like you to meet.”
Friendseemed a bit presumptuous to Emily. Then again, the simple word inspired confidence, and that was likely Jaclyn’s intent.
Emily’s heart went out to Myra. She couldn’t imagine having such little control over the people having access to her and her home.
Myra sat in a floral wingback chair in the parlor, dressed in a gorgeous pink silk pantsuit. Her dark hair, which had always reminded Emily of polished walnut, was now liberally peppered with gray.
The gaze Myra fixed on Emily was curious. “So you are the young woman who is being foisted upon me in my own home.”
Emily met the woman’s curious blue eyes. “I would never foist myself on anyone. Whether I stay in your home is up to you.”
“Please.” Myra waved a hand, reminding Emily of a queen. “Everyone, sit.”
Jaclyn took the love seat, while Emily chose one of the chairs.
Dalton’s phone buzzed before he could sit. He glanced at the display. “I’m sorry, I need to take this.”
He left the room, the phone pressed to his ear.
Ken appeared, a crystal tumbler in one hand, his other holding a small clear cup with several pills. “It’s time to take these, Mother.”
“If I must.” With a resigned sigh, Myra took the pills and the water. After handing the glass back to her son, she refocused on Emily.
“If you agree,” Ken said in an easy tone, “Emily will be the one spending nights here.”
“If I agree?” Myra arched a brow. “You haven’t left me much choice.”
Myra’s blue eyes, the same vivid shade as her grandchildren’s, fixed on Jaclyn. “I want you to know that I’ve enjoyed every second of my time with you.”
Ken slanted a glance at his daughter.
“I’ve enjoyed it, too. And I’m going to miss our late-night talks.” Jaclyn gave a little laugh. “But you’re likely better off without me. We all know I’m no good in a crisis.”
“Crisis?” The word had Emily turning to Jaclyn.
“Gran has a heart condition. Surely Dad explained it to you?—”
“If Emily and your grandmother come to an agreement, I’ll explain about the AED and how to use it.” Ken tossed the acronym out there with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Though I’m sure using it won’t be necessary.”
Emily knew all about automated external defibrillators, or AEDs. When she’d tutored at the detention center, she’d helped fundraise for one after an incarcerated young man had gone into sudden cardiac arrest and died.
She shifted her focus to Myra. “Your heart condition is serious.”
Myra’s gaze never wavered. “There are worse ways to die than to go suddenly.”
Emily nodded. She was pretty pleased with how she’d died—painlessly and with no drawn-out illness.
“You’re not going anywhere.” Ken spoke reassuringly to his mother. “You’ll get the surgery and be back to your feisty self in no time.”
That brought a slight smile to Myra’s lips, a smile that quickly faded.
“Perhaps. I’m still on the fence about the procedure.” Shifting her body away from her son and toward Emily, Myra smiled. “Tell me about yourself, Emily.”
She felt sure Ken had given his mother all the information he had on her, but accepted that this was Myra seizing control.
Emily understood. As she’d aged, her own control had often been usurped by others intending to be kind and helpful. Everything from the neighbor weeding her garden without being asked, to being told not to bring a dish to the church potluck because it’s a lot of work for someone your age, to strangers treating her as if she were deaf or blind, or both.
All considerate and well-intentioned gestures. All possessing an undertone that said, You’re old, and we need to take care of you. For an independent woman, which was what she—and Myra—had been all their lives, it had been a difficult pill to swallow.
Emily relayed the information on her résumé.
When she finished, Myra fixed bright blue eyes on her. “Why would such an accomplished young woman like yourself want to be a nursemaid to a sick old woman?”
“You’re not old. Haven’t you heard?” Emily kept her tone light and teasing. “Eighty is the new sixty.”
Myra offered what could be described only as a snort.
Emily smiled. “As your son likely informed you, I’m figuring out what I want to do with my life. Being here would allow me to figure out next steps.”
“Shouldn’t you have figured out what you wanted before you invested all that time and education on a career you’ve abandoned?”
“I view life as a journey,” Emily explained. “For some, music can be their entire life. It wasn’t enough for me. But all my experiences will forever be with me as I navigate life’s byways.”
“You’re quite the philosopher.” Myra’s dry tone indicated she wasn’t sure that was a good thing.
“In a way, aren’t we all?” Emily thought back to all the twists and turns she’d experienced in her ninety-two years. “While your journey has been different than mine, it’s shaped you. Spending this month in your home will likely change us both. I believe you and I will learn from each other and be better for this month together.”
“Month?” Myra shot a sharp glance at her son.
“By then, I’m hoping you’ll have had the surgery—” Ken began.
“I haven’t yet decided what I’m doing. Or when.” Myra’s jaw set in a hard line. “Once I make that final decision, I’ll let you know.”
“Well, Emily guaranteed she can be with us for a month,” Ken explained. “By that time, we’ll know more and can proceed accordingly.”
“That sounds fair, Gran.” Jaclyn rose and surprised Emily by moving to her grandmother’s side, crouching down and taking her hand. “For now, we just want you to be safe. You being alone in this big, old house at night worries all of us. If you fall, or if something else happens, who knows how long you could lie there?”
As soon as she returned to the Oasis that evening, Emily notified the desk clerk that she would be leaving tomorrow, a day earlier than planned. When she stopped at the desk the next morning, Chloe was there with a check refunding the charge for one night.
“You don’t have to do this,” Emily said as Chloe slid the check across the counter.
“You’ve been the perfect guest.” Chloe offered a warm smile. “Having the discretion to do these kinds of refunds is one of the nicest things about managing a small boutique hotel.”
Taking the check, Emily slid it into her purse.
“Jaclyn told me you’re moving into her grandmother’s home.”
Was that hurt she heard in Chloe’s voice? “I wanted to tell you myself, but our paths didn’t cross yesterday.”
“I spent the day with Bradley. We went to Baltimore and took in a baseball game.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It was.”
Emily reached down for her suitcase. “Well, I better?—”
“Emily.”
Emily straightened to find Chloe rounding the counter.
“I’m sorry about the fair.” Clouds filled Chloe’s amber eyes. “I realized later that we kind of ditched you for the guys. I’m sorry. It wasn’t right.”
“It was okay?—”
“No.” Chloe held up a hand. “Even before the guys showed up, we, well, we didn’t include you. Trust me, it wasn’t deliberate, just thoughtless. That doesn’t make it okay.”
“Dalton and I had a nice time.” Emily kept her tone light. “All’s well that ends well and all that.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Chloe met her gaze. “But I want to make it up to you.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“How were you planning to get your bike and suitcases to Mrs. Edwards’s house?”
“Uber. Speaking of which.” Emily pulled out her phone to order one.
“My RAV4 is parked in the back. Let me take you and your stuff over there.”
“You’re working.”
“I’m the boss, remember?” Chloe smiled. “I’m entitled to breaks.”
Emily hesitated. “Friday night was fine. You don’t owe me?—”
Chloe’s hand on her arm stopped her. “Please, Emily. Please let me do this.”
Fifteen minutes later, after Chloe had wheeled Emily’s bike up to the side of the house and Emily had removed her suitcase and violin case from the SUV, Emily waved good-bye to her friend. Then she moved into a lovely room on the main floor of the Edwards’s mansion. It wasn’t actually a mansion, of course, but it was the largest house Emily had ever lived in.
Ken hadn’t been joking when he’d said that the house was filled with antiques. Scads of antiques and loads of collectibles. Definitely enough work to keep a full-time housekeeper busy. When Emily learned that Mrs. Fairfax also did the cooking, she was even more impressed.
The bedroom Emily had been assigned had its own sitting area and bathroom. Though the bathroom wasn’t original to the house when it was built in the 1890s, she was glad to have a thoroughly modern one at her disposal.
Once her items had been carefully unpacked, Emily found herself contemplating what to do next.
She’d reached the end of the driveway when a BMW convertible with Dalton behind the wheel and the top down pulled up to the curb.
“Have I told you just how much I like this car?” Emily strode to the passenger side and leaned over. “If you’re looking for your grandmother, your father took her to a doctor’s appointment. They should be back soon.”
“His secretary told me he was here.” Dalton’s brows pulled together. “She didn’t mention him taking Gran to an appointment. My fault.” He waved a hand. “I should have texted. Can I give you a lift?”
“Pardon me?”
Dalton flashed a quick smile. “My grandmother says that. It’s an old-fashioned response.”
Emily shot him a wink. “I’m an old-fashioned girl.”
He chuckled. “Can I give you a lift?” he repeated as he gestured with one hand to the violin case. “That looks heavy.”
“It isn’t—heavy, that is.” Emily shifted from one foot to the other. “You don’t even know where I’m going.”
“Unless it’s Baltimore, I have time.”
“I’m headed to the town square.”
“That’s right on my way.” Dalton leaned over and pushed the door open. “Hop in.”
Setting the case carefully in the back, she fastened her seat belt.
“Emily.”
She turned to see Dalton gazing at her with a serious expression. She’d never seen such a look on his handsome face. “I just want to put one thing out there, since it’s just you and me right now.”
“Okay.” Her heart gave a flutter, though she was unable to see where this was headed.
“If you got the impression that we’re pushing my grandmother to have this procedure, you’d be right. Since Granddad died in that car accident last year, she’s given up. We’re not about to let that happen. We’re not losing her, too.”
Reaching over, she gave his hand a squeeze. “I understand. My father wanted to give up after his stroke, but…”
“You didn’t let him.”
“No. I didn’t.” Though Papa’s journey hadn’t had the happy ending she’d hoped for, she’d had nearly two more years with him.
“I just wanted you to understand where the family is coming from.” Dalton pulled the sleek sports car away from the curb, and an upbeat tune about the open road surrounded them.
As she fluffed her hair with her fingers, Emily emitted a happy sigh. This reminded her of the adventure she’d once envisioned. Though the car wasn’t yet moving fast enough to create a breeze, she could almost feel the wind in her hair…
At the stop sign, Dalton lightly cleared his throat, and she glanced in his direction to find him staring. “What?”
“You had the strangest look on your face.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
A spark flared in his eyes. “I like secrets.”
“Don’t get too excited. This will likely seem quite lame to you.” She settled herself in the leather seat. “When I was young—ah, younger than now—I was enchanted by convertibles.”
“Enchanted, eh?”
She ignored his teasing tone. “I once dreamed about getting into a convertible and heading off down the highway with no particular destination in mind.”
“How far did you see yourself going?”
“Far enough to be fun, but not far enough that I couldn’t get back before my father discovered I’d left town.”
He cocked his head. “Solo?”
Emily inclined her head in question.
“Did you see yourself taking the trip alone or with someone?”
“I guess I never thought that far.”
“I vote for with a companion. That would be more fun.”
Her noncommittal shrug seemed to amuse him.
They rode in comfortable silence until they drew close to the park, and he stopped the car. “What’s the plan?”
“Playing my violin.” Anticipation surged as she thought of the Elvis Presley “Can’t Help Falling in Love” cover she would debut today. “The music is calling and won’t be denied.”
“You’re ready to seize the day.”
Opening the car door, she sprang out. “With both hands.”