Chapter 3 #2
I thought the close quarters would bring us closer together, that sharing 600 square feet would somehow create intimacy.
Instead it just meant we couldn’t escape the cracks in our marriage, couldn’t avoid the growing realization that we’d gotten married too young for reasons that made sense at the time but didn’t hold up under pressure.
When the restaurant finally started making real money and we could afford something bigger, moving into my current house felt like the answer to everything.
Big and spacious with windows overlooking the water, surrounded by Douglas firs and cedar trees, enough breathing room that I thought it could save what was left of us.
She got pregnant with Chloe about six months after we moved in. The marriage lasted about another year after Chloe was born before Victoria sat me down one night and told me she’d been seeing someone else for months and she was moving to Seattle to be with him.
She didn’t want to be a mom either, apparently. Didn’t want the responsibility or the sacrifice. So she signed off on only taking Chloe one weekend a month and left us to figure out our new lives without her.
That was six years ago. The sting has mostly faded, replaced by dull acceptance and honestly relief that Chloe and I get to build our life on our own terms. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, so I don’t regret any of it.
But being in this apartment still brings some of it back.
The hope I had when I bought it. The optimism that feels embarrassing now.
I check my phone again, looking for applicant information from Danny. Nothing yet. He’s probably still dealing with his plumber crisis. I scroll through our texts just to double-check and realize I don’t actually know the applicant’s name.
I glance at the time. Ten now, which means whoever’s showing up should be here any second. I’ll just avoid using their name until they introduce themselves and hope it doesn’t come across as weird. As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door.
I shove my phone back in my pocket and cross the room, pulling the door open with what I hope is a friendly, professional smile. “Hi, thanks for—“
The words catch in my throat.
Emma Hayes. Her red hair practically glows in the light from the stairwell. She’s wearing jeans and a cream-colored sweater, and her face goes through a rapid journey from polite smile to surprise to something that looks like amusement.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she says, laughing. “Okay, how small is this town actually? Because I’m starting to think there’s like fifteen people total and we’re all just running into each other on rotation.”
“Hardly fair,” I say, stepping back to let her in. “There’s at least twenty if you count the tourists.”
“Touché.” She steps past me into the studio, and I catch a hint of something fruity, like apricot jam. She sets her tote bag down near the door. “So in addition to owning the restaurant, I’m guessing you also own this apartment? What else—do you deliver mail in your spare time?”
“Just the first two. Ted has mail delivery covered.” I close the door behind us. “Though you did leave out my title as reigning chili cook-off champion. Very prestigious.”
She laughs at that, moving toward the windows where morning light floods across the hardwood floors. “Wow. This light is incredible.” She touches the windowsill, running her fingers along the wood. “South-facing?”
“Yeah. Gets good sun most of the day.” I watch her take in the space. “I’m a bit surprised to see you here, actually. I figured you already had a place in Dark River.”
She turns to face me. “You’d think. I’ve been staying at the Pine Lodge Extended Stay this entire time. The rental market is surprisingly difficult around here.”
“That place?” I make a face before I can stop myself. “The one out by the highway with the flickering vacancy sign?”
She laughs, and the sound fills the empty studio. “That’s the one. Questionable stains and all. Yours was the first listing I saw that wasn’t wildly overpriced and didn’t look like it came with a free tetanus shot. I practically lunged at my laptop to email about it.”
“Good places get scooped up fast around here,” I say, smiling at the image of her diving for her computer. “My property manager texted me the day after we posted it and said there were about a dozen applications, but he had a good feeling about the first one that came through.”
She grins, crossing her arms. “So does being Chloe’s teacher give me an extra advantage here? Because I’m willing to use that connection shamelessly.”
I laugh, caught off guard by her directness. “Assuming you’re not planning to use the place as some kind of underground lair for criminal activity, I think it’s fair to say it’s yours if you want it.”
“Damn.” She snaps her fingers. “I’ll have to find somewhere else to store all my stolen art.” She walks toward the bathroom, peeking inside. “This is really nice though. Perfect size. How are the neighbors?”
“Ruth downstairs owns the framing shop and lives in the apartment down the hall. Sweet as can be.” I cross my arms, leaning back against the counter.
“Above you is Mr. Castellano. He’s nice but fair warning.
.. he plays violin at odd hours. Usually around eleven at night or six in the morning.
Besides that it’s pretty quiet, and thankfully he’s quite talented, which makes it more bearable. ”
“How very Sherlock Holmes of him,” she says, laughing.
“You have no idea how accurate you are,” I say. “Once you meet him that reference will make even more sense.”
She does another slow turn around the space, her eyes moving from the windows to the kitchen to the bathroom door.
“So what brought you to Dark River anyway?” I ask. “Not a lot of people move here on purpose.”
“I grew up in Seattle and wanted somewhere smaller, honestly. When I saw the job listing I pretty much jumped on it immediately.” She moves back toward the center of the room.
“I got here a few days before the school year started, so it was all a whirlwind, but I’ve loved pretty much every second of it. ”
“Do you miss Seattle at all?” Some part of me realizes I’m hoping she’ll say no. I don’t want to examine why.
She tilts her head, considering. “I miss some of my friends and my sister Sophie. But honestly I’m glad to have moved away. Growing up watching shows like Gilmore Girls gave me small-town fantasies. It’s no Stars Hollow, but Dark River is a pretty damn close PNW version.”
I laugh. “Mr. Castellano is eccentric enough that he might count as your Kirk.”
“Wait, you’ve seen the show?” She raises her eyebrows, looking pleasantly surprised.
“My mom had it on in the background a lot, so I’ve seen quite a bit of it.” I push off the counter, trying to ignore the small thrill I get from making her smile.
“Well, living in a town like that has always been my dream,” she says.
“I went to school on the east coast and loved it, but the Pacific Northwest is home. When I saw the Dark River job posting it felt like the perfect excuse to get out of Seattle. My family is a bit cutthroat and I wanted a fresh start.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“Four sisters. I think my dad kept hoping for a boy but eventually gave up.” She laughs. “What about you?”
“Opposites then. I have four brothers, and three of them live here in Dark River.”
“You’re kidding.” Her eyes widen. “Five boys? Your poor mother.”
I grin. “Shockingly she chose that. We’re all adopted, though I think it went in order of difficulty.
My oldest brother Dominic was probably the easiest, second oldest Calvin was pretty easy too.
Then as it went down we got crazier. I was pretty well behaved, but my youngest brothers Jack and Alex used to do things like set fires and jump off the roof.
There were times when I think she and my dad wondered what they’d gotten themselves into. ”
She laughs. “Yeah, my youngest sister Sophie and I were terrors as kids. We once convinced our older sisters we’d seen a ghost in the attic and they refused to go up there for two years. My parents were not amused when they found out we’d been making spooky noises with the baby monitor.”
“That’s brilliant,” I say. “I can only imagine what kind of trouble Chloe would get into if she had a sibling.”
“Does she ever wish she had one?” Emma asks, then her eyes widen. “Oh, sorry, that’s so inappropriate for me to ask.” Her hand flies up like she’s trying to physically take back the words.
“No, no, you’re fine,” I say, waving off her concern. “She asks me about it sometimes, actually. Usually when one of her friends talks about their siblings, she starts campaigning for someone to boss around.”
Emma relaxes slightly but still looks a bit embarrassed. “I can see that. Siblings are great, though I was a monster to my sister Sophie when we were growing up. Thankfully we’re best friends now, but man I was terrible. Made her do all my chores, blamed her for things I broke.”
I laugh. “Nothing like sibling rivalry to build character.”
“Exactly. Sounds like we both had enough siblings to give us plenty of that.” She moves closer, into the kitchen, running her hand along the counter. “So how long have you owned this place?”
“A little over ten years now. Fresh out of college and convinced I was making a smart investment.”
“And was it?” she asks, glancing up at me.
“Eventually,” I say. “My ex-wife and I lived here while we got the restaurant off the ground. It was cramped and we were working insane hours, but it worked at the time. Once we could afford something bigger, I turned it into a rental. Now the rent goes toward Chloe’s college fund.
Assuming she doesn’t end up becoming a Formula 1 racer like she keeps threatening. ”
Emma’s face lights up. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that ambition. She told me her uncle is a Formula 1 driver and that she’s going to be the first woman world champion. Then retire early to help save the ocean.”
“That’s my kid.” I can’t help but smile. “I’m grateful every day she’s so passionate about things, though her complete lack of fear scares the hell out of me sometimes.”
“That’s what makes her so special though. She hasn’t learned to be scared yet. She just goes after what she wants.”
“Yeah,” I say, “though she’s also going to give me a heart attack with how precocious she is. Last month she tried to befriend a raccoon by leaving a trail of prosciutto from the garden to our porch. I woke up to three raccoons in lawn chairs like they owned the place.”
Emma laughs, and a snort escapes. Her hand flies to her mouth, eyes going wide. “Oh my god. I sound like a honking duck.”
“No, no, you have a great laugh,” I say, and I mean it. Her whole face lights up when she laughs, genuine and unguarded, and I find myself wanting to make her do it again.
Which is not a thought I should be having about my daughter’s teacher.
I catch myself staring and look away, rubbing the back of my neck. The conversation is flowing too easily. I could stand here talking to her all morning, which is exactly why I need to get back to the actual reason we’re here.
“Well, the place is ready whenever you want it,” I say. “Want me to show you the practical stuff? Heating, hot water, all the details?”
We spend the next half hour going through everything: where the thermostat is, how to work the vintage radiators, which breaker controls what.
For two people who barely know each other, I would have expected awkward silences or forced small talk, but there’s none of that.
And while I try to focus on practical details a new tenant might need, the conversation keeps wandering away from apartment logistics and back to personal topics.
We talk more about growing up with so many siblings.
She asks about good hiking spots since she loves getting outside.
I tell her about a few of my favorite trails.
She mentions going to the farmers market yesterday and loving it, how Seattle has great markets too but she rarely had time for them there.
“Seriously, so much fresh produce!” She smiles. “Though I’m a terrible cook, so I stick to things that can just be eaten right away.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed.” I laugh. “Chloe said you brought cookies for the class a few times.”
“Oh, those came straight from the bakery,” she says without a trace of shame. “I am truly bad at cooking, and I’ve never had the motivation to fix it because I kind of hate it.” She shrugs cheerfully. “I love eating though.”
I laugh. “Well, there’s plenty of great restaurants here.
My sister-in-law owns The Black Lantern.
It’s technically a bar but not really. More dog and kid friendly with board games and trivia nights and really good food.
And you’re welcome at my restaurant anytime.
First responders, veterans, and teachers get a big discount. ”
She perks up at that. “That’s really nice. I haven’t made it to The Black Lantern yet, but I did try to get into your place and it was completely booked. You’re pretty popular.”
“Just text me anytime. I’ll make sure you get a table. Chloe would boot out a regular for you. She adores you that much.”
She laughs. “I don’t have enough pride to turn that down. I’ve been living off microwave dinners, so I’ll use any and all connections to get good food.”
I laugh with her and realize I’m enjoying the idea of her coming to the restaurant far more than I should.
A small warning flare goes off in my head.
“I should probably go,” I say, running a hand through my hair.
“I’ve been keeping you too long, and speaking of the restaurant, I need to get some work done there. ”
She glances at her watch. “Oh wow. It feels like I’ve only been here ten minutes. Sorry I kept you talking.”
I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. It was nice.” I straighten up from the counter. “Either Danny or I will email you the lease agreement tonight, and you can move in whenever works. First of the month, or before, doesn’t matter to me.”
She smiles, slinging her tote bag back over her shoulder. “That sounds perfect. Thank you so much for showing me the place.”
I walk her to the door, pulling it open and stepping out into the hallway with her. “Anytime. See you around, Emma.”
She gives me one last smile. “You too, Theo.”
And with that she’s gone, leaving behind the faint scent of apricot and an empty apartment that somehow feels less empty than before.