Chapter 19
Emma
“Will you stop acting so nervous?” Rhonda shakes her head at me, then rolls her eyes toward Philip. “She’s driving me crazy. She needs to just tell Alex she likes him already.”
“Shh!” My eyes widen as I shush Rhonda. I look around, but thankfully no one in the library’s lobby has heard. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’m the one who invited him tonight. I’m the one who practically begged him to come. Wait—I didn’t really beg him, did I? I just asked him. Goodness, if I begged him, I’m going to be so embarrassed. If I begged him, he’ll probably start thinking I’m needy and he won’t want to be anywhere near me.
“I think it’s pretty cool that Alex likes James Stewart,” Rhonda says, beaming at me. “I mean, you’ve been a James Stewart fanatic ever since you saw It’s a Wonderful Life when you were a teenager.”
“I like the guy,” Philip says, “but it’s hard to believe his favorite movie is Harvey.”
Rhonda jabs a thumb in my direction. “That’s her favorite movie, too.”
I feel my cheeks reddening. “I think I need a drink.” Without waiting for a response, I hurry through the crowd toward the drink table and pour myself a cup of raspberry punch.
As I sip, I scan the library and see that a good amount of people from Elmwood Falls have come for the double feature.
But not Alex.
My heart is plummeting quickly and frustration begins to settle. I really did hope he’d come. I turn back to the table, take another big sip of punch, then refill. He’s not coming. The first movie is going to start soon, and Alex isn’t coming.
And this realization makes me feel unhappy. I’m actually considering leaving, though I’ve always looked forward to the library’s double features. And this time, it’s with an actor I’ve adored for many years. But how can I enjoy it now?
“Where do I put this?” a voice behind me says.
I turn, then my eyes involuntarily go wide, and my heart skips a beat—several beats, actually.
Alex.
A smile flickers across my face. “You came.”
“Sorry I’m late. I was making this.”
I look at the dish he’s holding. It smells good, but I can’t see what it is through the cover.
“It’s risotto,” Alex says.
My smile widens. “It smells amazing. Come with me. I’ll show you where to put it.”
Although my legs feel like jelly, I walk him over to a long table filled with various treats and meals brought by the attendees. I make room for Alex’s risotto and he sets it down before turning to look at me.
“You look…nice.” He smiles at me. “But you have something on your lip.”
“I do?” a heat wave washes through me and I run a hand across my lip. “It’s just from the punch. Would you like some?”
He shakes his head. “I’m good for now.”
“Okay. I’m glad you came, Alex.”
“As am I. I appreciate you inviting me. I realize we got off on the wrong foot. I’d like to amend that.”
“So would I,” I tell him honestly. “I think tonight’s as good a night as any. Well, we’re sitting over there.” I point to where Rhonda and Philip moved to sit. I see her glance back at me, smile, then save two seats.
“Shall we?” Alex smiles at me, then extends his elbow.
Slowly, I hook my arm in his, trying to ignore the sudden warmth that’s filling my entire body. We walk to Rhonda and Philip.
“I don’t think the town’s happy,” Alex says.
I look around to see several people are staring, a good many wearing angry expressions. I silently pray that they won’t make Alex feel unwelcome.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “They’re probably just a little curious as to why we’re here together.”
“Oh, so we’re together now?”
“Oh no, that’s not what I meant. I mean, well, you came…I mean I invited…” I snap my mouth shut, instructing myself to calm down. Then, another wave of embarrassment spills through me as I realize he’s laughing. At me. I look up at him, pulling away. “Are you making fun of me?”
“No, of course not,” he says. He’s still laughing, and I fold my arms, glaring at him. Figures. I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, and all he’s doing is finding new ways to criticize me. I guess the whole judging-Emma’s-baking got old for him.
He clears his throat. “Forgive me,” he says. “I wasn’t making fun. At least, that wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Maybe I should leave.” He hesitates for a second before turning away. “I hope you enjoy the risotto.”
“Alex, wait,” I say. I search my mind for the right words. It seems that we’re always on different pages. It’s never been this hard for me to make friends with someone. I never had an enemy before. Not until Alex. But the thought of him being my enemy makes me sick to my stomach. And not because he has the ability to ruin my baking dream before it starts. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m on edge. And I guess I’m a little…”
“Insecure?” he finishes.
Slowly, I nod. He hasn’t been one to hold back, so I don’t know why I’d expect him to do so now. Especially when he’s right, and he knows it.
“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says. “I do want to know you better, Emma. If you’ll allow me.”
I study him for a long time. I didn’t notice that Mayor Lewis Hatsfield gave his usual “Welcome to the Elmwood Falls Library’s Double Feature” speech. And I didn’t notice the lights had dimmed, and music coming through the loudspeakers started. Soon, the beginning credits were starting to play.
“We should go sit,” I mumble, pushing by him to sit by Rhonda. A second later, he takes the seat next to me, brushing against my skin.
We watch the movie, but I can’t concentrate. I’m still noticing the electricity sparking between us. If it was a tangible occurrence, I’m sure we’d start a fire.
He leans in close to me. “We should watch Harvey sometime.”
I look up at him. Is he asking me out on a date? But he’s not looking at me, and I’m wondering if I misheard. Or if my mind was playing tricks, and he didn’t ask me that question. I can’t tell. I turn to stare at the screen because I don’t want him to think I’m even crazier than he already does.
When the movie ends, the mayor comes up to the front again, inviting everyone to dig in for dinner and snacks. Alex stands with the crowds and goes straight to the table.
“Are you okay?” Rhonda asks me.
“Yes,” I say. “Why?”
“Because you look like you’re flustered. You’re not getting sick, are you?” Rhonda takes it upon herself to feel my forehead and cheek. “No, temperature seems normal.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her. “I promise. I think that Alex being here is making me on edge. I don’t know why.”
“Me either,” Rhonda says, “because I think he likes you. Like, a lot.”
“Really? How can you tell?”
“Well, for one, he’s standing at twelve o’clock, staring right at you. He hasn’t stopped staring since he walked over to the food table.”
Philip scoffs. “That’s probably because he’s wondering why you’re standing around and not getting food.” He walks away to stand in the line, next to Alex.
I’m watching him, and something Philip says makes Alex laugh.
“He’s not wrong,” Rhonda says. “We should be getting food.”
Agreeing, I follow her to the end of the line. We start chatting about the movie we just watched—or didn’t really watch—when Philip and Alex trod over.
With a mouth full of food, Philip motions to Alex’s risotto with his fork, saying, “You girls should get this. It’s amazing. I wonder who made it.”
Before I can point out that it was Alex who brought it, he takes a bite and says, “I don’t know, but it is commendable.”
I smirk. Of course Alex will give a good review of his cooking. Now I have to taste it. I’m sure I can come up with a critique, giving Alex a taste of his own medicine.
The line seems to take forever, until Rhonda and I fill our plate. Despite Rhonda’s dislike of Italian dishes, I encourage her to try the risotto. Then we meet Alex and Philip at our seats. When I sit next to Alex, I taste the risotto, ready to knock it down, but after the first taste, I find I can’t do that. It’s creamy, each grain of rice perfectly cooked to a tender yet firm consistency, embodying the ideal balance of texture that good risotto should have. The flavors are rich and deep, with a hint of white wine that adds a bright acidity, balancing the richness of the butter and Parmesan cheese that envelops the rice.
“It’s exceptional, isn’t it?” Alex says, another smirk teasing the corner of his lips.
“It’s…it’s…” Suddenly, I can’t form the words.
“It’s not bad,” Rhonda says, though her words seem to be muted. “And I don’t really like Italian that much.”
“Emma?” Alex presses. “What are your thoughts?”
“I think it’s not bad,” I say quietly. I shovel another forkful in my mouth. It’s honestly “smack my grandmother good,” as I remember my mother saying several times before she died. But there’s no way I can say that to Alex. Absolutely, completely, no way can I say that to him. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s ego. Maybe it’s pride. Or maybe it’s simply that I can’t find my voice.
We spend the rest of the night eating, then watching the second movie of the day. After the evening ends, Rhonda and Philip leave, and now I’m alone with Alex.
Together, we’re walking through the town in silence.
The wind brushes against my skin, and despite the heat, I shiver.
“Are you cold?” Alex asks.
“No,” I say. “I’m fine.”
“Okay. Did you enjoy your evening?”
I nod. “Yes. Did you?”
“It was quite enjoyable. Thank you for coming to invite me.”
“I’m glad you came.”
We fell into an uncomfortable silence again, until we reached my apartment. It isn’t until then that I realize he has walked me home.
“Well, this is me,” I say.
“So it is.” Alex nods, looking around. It’s only the two of us outside. I’m about to invite him inside even though it’s late when he interrupts me. “So, what’s your answer?”
I blink at him. “I’m sorry? Did you say something?”
“During the first movie, I had asked if you wanted to watch Harvey sometime. The inn has pay-per-view. We can probably order it. Would you like to watch it with me?”
Every fiber of my being wanted to scream yes. But remembering our current predicament gave me pause. Did I really want to start dating Alex? Not only was he going to be judging me in a couple of weeks—again—but this wasn’t his home. He will eventually leave.
“I’d like to, Alex,” I tell him. “But are you sure that’s a smart thing to do?”
“Because of the bake-off?”
I nod.
“I like you, Emma. A lot,” Alex says. “I just want to get to know you a bit more.”
I hesitate a beat, then say, “I think I like you too, though I honestly can’t say why. But our situation hasn’t changed.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Emma,” Alex says. “It’s changed a great deal. But I do understand this competition means a great deal to you. Don’t think of it as dating. Think of it as two friends getting together and hanging out. Invite Rhonda, if that’ll make you more comfortable.”
“Is that what we are? Friends?” I blink at him.
“It’s what I’d like to be. That is, if you’re open to the idea. Just think about it. I’ll accept your decision, whichever one you come to.” He smiles at me, sending butterflies in my stomach. “Have a good night, Emma.”
After a pause, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing in front of my apartment building.