Chapter 5 #2
“She’s easy to get.” Emma’s voice goes softer.
“I remember the first time I met her. She was wearing this race car t-shirt and I talked to her in way too much of a little kid voice—like, ‘oh, I love your little race car, are you a NASCAR fan?’” She pitches her voice up in imitation, then laughs.
“And she gave me this look, then literally put her hand on my arm and said, ‘Thank you for trying, but this is a Ferrari SF-24, and it’s Formula 1. They’re not even close to the same thing.
’ Then she patted my arm and walked away. ”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “Oh no. I’m sorry. She can be blunt sometimes without meaning to be rude. She’s very serious about her racing knowledge. And her uncle does drive for Ferrari.”
She grins. “No, it was hilarious, and she’s since told me about her uncle Jack.
It was honestly really adorable. Anyway, Chloe talks to me about Formula 1 enough now that I actually have a decent understanding of it.
I love that she’s super opinionated and isn’t shy about sharing.
And she’s always polite. Or she tries to be. ”
I shake my head, smiling. “Good. I love that about her too. Though sometimes I have to remind her about please and thank you.”
She waves it off. “Kids are like that. They all forget sometimes. But you can tell she’s a sweetie even when she forgets.”
“What made you want to be a teacher, if you don’t mind me asking?” I set my mug down on the counter. “You mentioned something about a family business when we first met?”
She looks down at her coffee, her expression shifting.
“Yeah, my family runs this big tech company based out of Seattle. Educational app for kids. My parents started it ages ago because they wanted to create something beneficial for children, you know? The world was becoming so tech-oriented and they wanted to put something good out there.” She pauses, shifts her weight.
“But it’s just... it’s not what it was anymore. ”
“Sorry,” I say, sensing I’ve hit a nerve. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, you’re not prying.” She looks back up at me.
“My mom died from cancer, and since then the company has kind of lost its way. My three older sisters started shifting the app away from the original educational mission. More focus on user retention and profit. It just kind of… lost all of its heart.”
“I’m sorry. About both of those things.” The words feel inadequate. “I lost both of my parents, so I know how hard that kind of grief is. And having to fight your own family over their legacy on top of that sounds exhausting.”
She offers a small smile. “Yeah, it’s been difficult.
Enough years have passed since my mom died that I can talk about it without it feeling so raw, but it was really hard.
My dad’s still around, but he and my mom had this really ugly divorce before she got sick, so he’s pretty removed from everything.
My sisters hold the majority stakes in the company.
I have shares too, but not enough to outvote them when they all agree on something.
” She lets out a breath. “Oh, sorry. I’m rambling about family drama and all you asked is why I wanted to teach. ”
I set my mug down and look at her. “No, please don’t apologize. I asked because I wanted to know. You don’t have to edit yourself with me.”
She seems to relax a little at that, and I realize I meant it. I want to know everything about her: her family, her past, what makes her light up, what keeps her awake at night. That realization should probably worry me more than it does.
“Well, to answer your actual question,” she says, tucking her feet up under her on the counter in a way that makes her look impossibly young and comfortable, “I’ve always just loved kids.
Both my parents had education backgrounds before they started the company, so teaching was always on my mind.
I think they wanted me to take on a bigger role eventually, maybe overseeing educational content within the company, affecting millions of kids worldwide.
But I was always drawn to the classroom side of things.
Being with kids one on one, seeing them learn and grow right in front of you. ”
“That makes sense,” I say. “It sounds like you walked away from a lot to do what you actually love. That takes a lot of bravery. And teaching is really meaningful work.”
“I think so too.” Her face lights up again, and I find myself leaning in slightly just to be closer to that warmth. “For me, anyway. I know my sister Sophie would not find meaning in it.”
I laugh. “I take it she’s not the elementary school teacher type.”
“God, no.” Emma grins. “She loves kids in theory—like, she’ll spoil them rotten and then hand them back.
But spending eight hours a day with twenty-five first graders would be her personal nightmare.
She doesn’t completely understand why I moved out here, but she supports it.
And I get it, the pay is terrible and I’ve already spent half my salary on classroom supplies.
” She shrugs, completely unbothered. “But it feels right. Like this is what I’m supposed to be doing. You know?”
I nod, because I do know. It’s how I feel about Dark River, about the restaurant, about building something that matters. “I know exactly what you mean.”
I take another sip of coffee, watching the way she gestures when she talks, how animated she gets.
There’s something magnetic about her enthusiasm, this genuine passion that radiates off her, and I have to remind myself again why this is a bad idea.
But I could list reasons all day and it still wouldn’t change the fact that I want to keep standing in her kitchen listening to her talk about anything at all.
“For what it’s worth,” I say, “I think you made the right choice. Not everyone has the guts to walk away from the easy path.”
She’s smiling, and there’s color in her cheeks now. The late afternoon light coming through the window catches her hair and turns it copper, and for a second I forget what we were even talking about.
“What about you?” she asks, tilting her head. “How did you end up in the restaurant business?”
“I kind of fell into it, honestly.” I shift my weight against the counter, grateful for the question because it gives me something to focus on besides her mouth.
“Alex wanted to start a restaurant but didn’t want to answer to anyone else.
I wanted to build something here in Dark River, put down roots, be part of the community.
So we figured it out together.” I run a hand through my hair.
“Thankfully I ended up loving it, but it’s been hard at times.
Most of my life is there. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve let it become too much of my life. ”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with caring deeply about your work,” she says, and her voice is softer now. “It’s kind of rare, actually. Most people just clock in and clock out.”
“Yeah, well.” I look down at my coffee. “Sometimes I wonder if Chloe would say I care too much about work and not enough about other things.” The words slip out before I can stop them, more honest than I intended to be.
Emma’s quiet for a moment, and when I look up, she’s watching me with an expression I can’t quite read. “From what I can see,” she says gently, “Chloe knows exactly how much her dad loves her. That kid talks about you constantly. You’re her favorite person in the world, Theo. Trust me on that.”
I have to look down at my coffee for a second. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And she’s been patient with me through all of it and just rolls with everything. Especially back in the early days when I wasn’t sure if the restaurant was going to make it.”
She nods, tilting her head. “But you did make it,” she says. “And now the place is a cornerstone of the community.”
“Yeah. The food matters, but mostly I like having a place for people to gather. Being able to donate to the food bank every week, host fundraisers for the schools. It feels good being part of something bigger than just running a business.”
“That sense of community is something I was lacking in Seattle,” she says.
“I mean, it exists there of course. Sophie has her own community and friends. But I always struggled a bit. I wanted somewhere I could know my neighbors and run into people at the coffee shop and actually feel like I belong somewhere.”
“Stars Hollow,” I say, smiling.
“Ha! Good memory.” She laughs, and the sound fills the kitchen in a way that makes me want to hear it again. “Yes, exactly. And Dark River feels like the perfect fit for that.”
“It is. But I might be biased.” I set my mug down.
“I’ve lived here my entire life and I don’t think I want to be anywhere else.
I can see Alex moving on someday. This town might be too small for him.
And my youngest brother, Jack, was born restless and wanted to leave as soon as he could.
But I’ve always loved it here. Always felt rooted. ”
“I hope it works out so I can feel that way too,” she says softly.
“I think you will. You’re already making an impact, getting involved. That’s how it starts.”
She looks down at her coffee mug, then back up at me. “Thanks for saying that. It means a lot, actually.”
We’re just looking at each other, and I should say something or move or do literally anything besides stand here staring at her like an idiot. But I can’t seem to make myself break whatever this is. The air between us feels charged, heavy with something I don’t want to name.
My phone buzzes, snapping me back to reality. I pull it out and see a reminder about Chloe’s art class ending soon. “I should probably get going,” I say. “I need to pick up Chloe soon, and I’ve some work to do at the restaurant tonight.”
“Right, of course.” She sets her mug down on the counter and hops off. “Thanks again for fixing the cabinet.”
“Anytime,” I say, grabbing my toolbox. “Really. You can call me whenever you need something. That’s what landlords are for.”
She holds my gaze for a second, and I feel it everywhere—this pull toward her that I can’t seem to shake no matter how many times I remind myself why I should.
“I’ll walk you out,” she says finally.
I follow her to the door, keeping my eyes firmly on the back of her head because looking anywhere else is a mistake I can’t afford to make.
She opens the door and turns to face me, leaning against the frame. “Well,” she says. “This was nice. I’m around kids so much that it’s fun to have an adult conversation every now and then.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Thanks for the coffee.”
I step into the hallway and she stays in the doorway, not closing the door yet.
For half a second I consider asking if she wants to grab dinner sometime.
The words are right there, sitting on my tongue.
Then I remember all the reasons that’s a terrible idea—her age, Chloe, the fact that she’s my tenant—and I swallow them back down.
“See you around, Theo,” she says, and there’s something in her voice that makes me think she knows exactly what I was about to say.
“See you around, Emma.”
I force myself to turn and head down the stairs without looking back. It takes more willpower than it should. I unlock my car and toss the toolbox in the passenger seat, then check my phone. A text notification sits on the screen.
Victoria.
Before I even open it, I know what it’s going to say. These days my ex-wife only texts to cancel plans with Chloe.
Victoria: Hey, so bad news. Derek’s company is having this big event in Portland this weekend and we need to go. It’s last minute and I’m really sorry but I can’t do our weekend with Chloe. Will make it up to her soon, I promise.
I read it twice. Then a third time. I type back, keeping it short even though I want to say a lot more.
Me: She’s been talking about this weekend all week. She’s going to be really disappointed, especially since this isn’t the first time you’ve cancelled last minute on her.
The response comes fast.
Victoria: I know and I feel terrible. But it’s really important for Derek’s career.
I pocket my phone and get in the car, hands tight on the steering wheel. The anger is there, immediate and hot, but I push it down because getting pissed isn’t going to help Chloe. I need to figure out how to tell her without letting her see how frustrated I am.
Maybe I’ll say something came up for work that Mom couldn’t miss. Keep it vague. Focus on circumstances rather than choices. Make it sound unavoidable instead of what it actually is: Victoria choosing Derek’s work event over spending time with her daughter. Again.
I start the engine and head toward Mrs. Lowrey’s studio, running through different ways to break the news. Whatever I say tonight, Chloe needs to believe her mom loves her and wants to see her, even when Victoria’s actions keep saying otherwise.
We’ll have a great weekend anyway. Just the two of us.
I have to work some, but maybe we’ll make pancakes for dinner the way she loves, drench them in syrup and eat them on the couch while we watch nature documentaries.
Maybe we’ll do a living room campout with sleeping bags and flashlights and stories until she falls asleep curled up next to me.
I’ll let her stay up too late and have ice cream for breakfast if she wants.
I’ll make it a good weekend. I always do.