Chapter 20
Alex
When I woke up this morning, I decided I wouldn’t stay in the room at the inn all day. Not like I’ve been doing. Instead, I made my coffee, then left to go walking around the town. I didn’t make any plans. I just wanted to walk. However, when I step inside the Elmwood Falls Diner, I’m not surprised.
I walk up to the counter where the owner, Maggie, is finishing up with a customer. After the customer turns to leave, she glares at me, throwing her hands on her hips.
“Thought I told you you’re not welcome here.”
“I’m hoping I might change your mind,” I tell her. “It’s never been my intention to cause any rift between you or anyone else here in town. Though, since I obviously have, please allow me to extend my apologies.”
I can tell by the look on her face that Maggie’s shocked. She opens, then closes her mouth as if unsure of what to say in response.
“I saw you last night at the library,” she says. “With Emma.”
I nod. “She invited me.”
“Did she now? Well, that girl has always been too kind to a fault. But her Mama raised her right. Just so you know, I’ve known Emma since she was born. She’s a part of my family. I don’t take too kindly of people who hurt my family, understand?”
“Yes ma’am,” I tell her.
“Well, seemed last night, Emma’s okay with you. So, you’re welcome here. But that can change in the blink of an eye. What would you like?”
“What do you recommend?” I ask,
“The ham sandwich with a side of broccoli cheddar soup has always been a favorite of mine.”
“Then that’s what I’ll have,” I tell her.
She rang up the order, and I paid. But before I go to sit down, she says, “You don’t strike me as a bad guy, Mr. Carter.”
The statement surprises me, but before I can ask her to embellish, she disappears into the kitchen. So, I sit and look through my phone, waiting for my lunch. It doesn’t take long before it’s brought out to me, and when I look up, I see Emma smiling down at me.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi.” She hesitates, then, “Nice to see you away from your self-imposed prison.”
I chuckle. “It’s nice to be out. I’ve been pardoned, but put on probation.” My eyes find Maggie taking orders from another customer, but I notice they’re both trying not to seem so obvious about looking at us.
“Pardoned from Maggie, I guess,” Emma says. “Don’t worry about her. Her bark’s worse than her bite. Mind if I sit?”
“You want to sit with an outsider? What’ll that make you?” I ask.
She puts a finger to her chin and taps as she feigns thinking. “Probably brave.”
I gesture to the empty seat across from me. “By all means.”
She sits, her gaze bearing into me. “I really did have a nice time last night. I’m glad you decided to come.”
“I am too.” I sip the soup. It’s good, but a little more cheese goes a long way. “How are you coming along with the preparations for the competition?”
She narrows her eyes curiously, then says. “I think it’s going well. Rhonda and I have been using this kitchen nearly every night. We’ve got our routine down. Now, it’s up to the judges to decide if I’m worthy enough.” I catch something unsettling cross through her eyes, and I wonder if by judges, she means me.
“Are you nervous?” I ask.
She hesitates for several seconds as I slowly gnaw on my sandwich—it’s good too, but I’m not typically a sandwich guy. But then again, it came by recommendation.
“I think anxious is a better word for it,” she says finally.
“That’s understandable,” I tell her. “You have a lot riding on this competition, and for good reason. Might I share a bit of advice?”
“You’re not going to tell me to be more innovative, are you?” she asks.
I scoff. “Well, truthfully, that won’t hurt, but, no. I’m not telling you to be that.”
She puts her arms on the table, looking me in the eye, and I hold her gaze. My heart’s doing weird things in my chest, and I can’t seem to get it to stop. I also hear the blood in my veins pulsing in my ears.
“What’s your advice?”
“Just have fun,” I tell her. “Remember you love baking. Everything will fall into place.”
“You surprise me, Alex Carter.”
Again, I scoff. “Seems I’m surprising a lot of people lately.”
“I’m not surprised.” She leans back, a smile tugging at her lips. “See what I did?”
I laugh. “Yes. Very astute of you.”
“You should know that the judges will be blindfolded,” I tell her. “I don’t know if you heard about that.”
“I did get an email. It’s not something they usually do. Did you have something to do with that?”
I hesitate for a second. I didn’t intend on telling her I called the panel, but now that she asked, I don’t want to lie. So, I tell her the truth.
“I might have suggested it.”
“Why?”
“Well…” I push out a sharp breath as I stir my still-hot broccoli and needs-more-cheese soup. “I didn’t want to appear biased. If you didn’t win, you and the town would hate me. If you did and word got out that we’ve had conversations, it might have been misconstrued as favoritism.”
“I doubt that,” Emma says. “But why would you care about how I think about you?”
“Like I said last night, I like you, Emma. And I know how much winning means to you. I don’t want my feelings to alter the outcome.”
She smiles softly at me. “I appreciate that, Alex. Thank you. It means a lot. Honestly, that makes me even more nervous.”
“Why’s that?” I ask.
“Because now, impressing a blindfolded critic feels like trying to land a soufflé on the moon—it’s tricky business when you’ve started mattering more than I expected.”
Her words take me by surprise, and I’m pretty sure I’m feeling my heart swelling now.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she says breathlessly as she stumbles to stand.
I reach for her hand, taking it, resulting in a shocked gasp from her. “Don’t be sorry, Emma. Let’s talk about this. Please.”
“I don’t know that it’s a good idea, Alex. I mean, even if it’s not the competition, you’re leaving soon.”
“I don’t have to,” I tell her. “We can figure things out.”
“I-I have to get back to work, Alex.”
“Wait, Emma.” I stand so my eyes will be more level to hers. “Meet me tonight at the park. For a picnic. No pressure. Listen, I won’t deny the way I feel about you. Or this town. I feel something I haven’t felt in such a long time, if ever. Just give me a chance.”
She studies me. The diner around us fades into a background hum, the clinking of cutlery and murmur of conversations becoming distant as we stand in our bubble of silence.
“Alex, I…” Emma begins, her voice faltering. She glances around, perhaps aware of the attention we might be attracting. I don’t dare take my eyes away from her face. Lowering her voice, she leans closer, “I don’t know. This is all so complicated. You, the competition, what happens after…”
I nod. “I know it’s complicated, Emma. But sometimes, the most worthwhile things in life are. I didn’t expect to be judging this competition. I didn’t expect to hope to be friends with you or this town. I certainly didn’t expect to fall…” I exhale sharply, cutting off the end of my sentence. “Emma, I’m not asking for any decisions now. Just a chance to spend some time together, away from all these complications. Just you, me, and the park. And you can bring Frankie.”
She bites her lip, contemplating, then finally, with a small sigh, she nods. “Okay. The park. Tonight. But, Alex, we need to talk about what this all means. I can’t—I won’t start something that’s destined to end before it even begins.”
A wave of relief washes over me, mingling with a tinge of fear for the conversation that awaits us. “Thank you, Emma. And we’ll talk, I promise.”
Releasing her hand, I watch as she takes a step back, her eyes still locked on mine. “I should get back,” she says, gesturing vaguely toward the kitchen. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”
Slowly, she turns to leave, bumping into the edge of the counter as she walks around it, and into the kitchen.
Maggie looks over at me, but says nothing. I sit, finish my meal, then although I don’t want to, I leave the diner several minutes later. I don’t see Emma again. But it’s okay. I’m leaving, knowing I’ll be seeing her later tonight. But I don’t know what to do now. I suppose I need to fix a meal for us to eat since it’s a picnic. But what kind of meal? What does Emma like? Is this a couple’s date or is this a mend the fences date? I don’t even know, and I’m the one who asked her to meet with me.
I just know I have a way of stuffing my feet in my mouth when I’m near her. What if I mess up? Obviously, I haven’t done this in a very long time. The only thing I know I’m good at is running away. But I don’t want to run away. Not unless Emma runs away with me.