Chapter 21
Emma
Rhonda’s watching me pace back and forth in her kitchen, and it’s making me even more nervous. I told her about what happened in the diner, and my mind keeps going back and forth about whether or not I should meet Alex tonight. I can tell myself over and over that it’s not a date. But I don’t know if I even believe that. I don’t even know if I want to believe that.
“Okay, you’re driving me absolutely crazy.” The screeching of Rhonda’s chair as she stands forces me to look at my friend, blinking several times.
“Huh?”
Rhonda rolls her eyes. “You’re driving me nuts, Em. You’ve been pacing for ten minutes now. I mean, isn’t this what you want?”
“What I want?” I blink at her several more times.
“You like Alex, he likes you.” Rhonda’s gesturing with her hands as if it was going to paint a picture of a perfect future with me and Alex. “Just go on the date with him and see what happens.”
“It’s not a date,” I mutter lamely. “Is it?”
Rhonda chuckles. “You’re meeting him tonight for a picnic when the stars are out. It’s definitely a date. So, we are going to get you something nice to wear.” She puts a finger to her chin, tapping it thoughtfully. “You’ve got nice clothes Em, but they simply won’t do. Come upstairs.”
She leaves the kitchen, and I hear her feet thumping up the stairs. I’m still standing in place by the kitchen sink.
“Emma, you coming?” I hear Rhonda call.
With a sharp sigh, I start to follow her up to her room. Rhonda’s definitely got one of the nicest houses in Elmwood Falls. The spiral stairs are pure oak, and shiny. She has housekeepers come twice a month for deep cleaning. Rhonda keeps her home straight, and when she’s bored, she does light cleaning, but the deep cleaning, she leaves to her staff. I can always tell by the fragrance of lemon when the housekeepers come, and I know they were here yesterday.
She has three bedrooms upstairs, and I find her in the masters’ in the back of the hallway. When I walk inside, Rhonda’s in her walk-in closet, scanning the clothes, most of them she only wore once. I’ve never seen Rhonda wear anything twice, or at least not since her mom married her stepfather. I’ve suggested that she give clothes to charity, and occasionally, she does, but she often says she has a feeling that one day, her practically new clothes will come in handy. And now I have a feeling she’s thinking that day has finally come.
She takes out a red blouse with frills on the bottom, studies it, then shakes her head. “No, this won’t do.” Rhonda puts it back, then gets a white blouse. She holds it up to me. “This is nice, and will show off your form, but makes you look pale.” She returns the blouse to the rack. “Besides, you’ve always looked the best in blue. Where’s my…” Rhonda trails off, quickly looking through her blouses, until she singsongs, “I found it!” Rhonda holds the blouse up to me, then smiles. “Try this on.”
When Rhonda’s mind is made up, I know not to argue. So I take the blouse and I change into it in her bathroom. I study it. She’s right, blue has always been my best color. It helps bring out the light tan in my skin.
“Let’s see,” Rhonda calls from the other side of the bathroom door.
I leave the bathroom to find her still in the closet, this time looking through her pants.
“We don’t want to overdress,” she says, “But we do want to look chic and classy. Oh, this will do perfectly. We’re still the same size, right?” She turns to me and eyes her blouse before nodding, holding out a pair of designer jeans. “That’s perfect. Now, try these.”
I go change into them. Suddenly, I feel upscale. I know, like everything, Rhonda doesn’t buy cheap. And these jeans are no exception. It’s funny how certain clothes can make someone feel. I leave the bathroom, and she’s already holding a pair of dress shoes with kitten heels.
“I know you walk a little funny with actual heels, but you’re not going to wear my clothes without some kind of heels.” She smirks at me to let me know she’s only joking. I take the shoes as she watches me slip them on. They’re a little tight, but I think I can manage, so I don’t mention it.
“What do you think?” I ask.
“Man, I’m good.” I look at Rhonda, and she’s nodding with approval. “I think if I ever get bored enough to work, I need to be a personal shopper.”
“That’d be perfect for you,” I tell her. I stand and go to her oval floor mirror and inspect myself. The ponytail I have makes me look more casual, but the entire outfit looks good on me. I’m impressed with Rhonda’s thoughts on what I should wear, but I’m not sure why I’m surprised. If there’s anything Rhonda knows, it’s clothes and art.
“This covers all the bases. If he’s not interested in dating you, then you’re dressed down enough. But you’re still looking good enough for a date.”
“Once he sees me in a pair of three hundred dollar pants, he’s likely to think it’s a date whether that’s his intention or not,” I point out.
Rhonda shakes her head. “He’s a man, honey.”
“A man whose livelihood is traveling around places like Paris and Italy,” I remind her.
Rhonda laughs. “Okay, you’ve got a point there. How about makeup?” she suggests.
I shake my head. I’ve never been the makeup type, so I don’t think I need to bother. Alex will need to like me for who I am, not some made up person trying to win his heart.
“Okay, fine,” Rhonda says. “But I do think you can stand a little lip gloss.”
She goes into the bathroom and I hear her sorting through her drawers, and when she returns, she’s holding a tube of lip gloss. The tint is light pink—enough to stand out, but not enough to scream I’m wearing anything on my lips. Besides, lip gloss makes lips more moist, and I know that’s Rhonda’s sole intention. And, I’m okay with that.
“You think my hair should be down?” I ask. “Or is it fine up?”
“I’ll leave that up to you,” Rhonda says. “You’re a knockout, either way.”
“Do you think I should cancel?” I bite my lips. “I mean, should I be this nervous?”
“It’s okay to be nervous,” Rhonda says. “But just be yourself. There’s nothing wrong with getting to know Alex.”
“It’s just that he’s so…” I trail off, trying to think of the word I want.
“Complex?” Rhonda finishes. “I get it. He comes into town criticizing everything. And suddenly, he’s taken an interest in you. That shows he’s got some kind of smarts.” She winks at me.
“Yeah, I guess,” I say. I think back to that night at the park when I stumbled, and he hurried to catch me. That moment changed everything for me, and I can’t help but wish it’d happen again. Being in his arms felt good. Right. And a part of me believes that Alex felt the same. “It’s funny, Rhonda. When I met him, I didn’t like him at all. Now, I can’t stop thinking about him. I liked when he came into the bakery every day.”
“Funny he did that,” Rhonda says with a coy smile. “I can’t help but wonder why, though I have one good reason.”
I look at her. It really is funny, isn’t it?
We return to the living room to talk. Rhonda’s talking about her upcoming trip to Paris. She’ll be leaving a few days after the competition. She’ll be gone for a year. I’m already missing her. The way she talks about art school, her face lights up, and I know she has a passion that may surpass even shopping. Philip plans to visit within a few months. I’m glad the two of them have worked things out, and I’m hoping their relationship will last. I think they look good together, and I know they love each other.
Slowly, the time ticks by, and when I steal a glance at the grandfather clock in the corner, my nerves become tied into knots. Soon, I’ll be meeting Alex at the park.
“You okay?” Rhonda breaks into my thoughts.
I smile at her and nod. “Just nerves.”
She looks at the clock. “Almost time. Just remember to be yourself. It’s not like you’re meeting a complete stranger.”
“Somehow, I think that’d be better.”
Rhonda laughs. “Maybe so. But you’ll be fine.”
Looking again at the clock, I force out a heavy sigh. “I’d better get going. If I don’t go now, I’ll probably chicken out.”
“Okay. I want all the details.”
With a chuckle, I stand and say, “You’ve got it. I’ll see you later.”
Rhonda stands, hugs me and kisses my cheek. “You look great, Emma. Don’t be nervous.”
“I’ll try.”
Rhonda walks me to the door, and though she offers to drive me, I decline, feeling like a walk to the park will help calm my nerves.
It’s a nice night out. The wind’s cool, lightly brushing against my skin. I still see the orange glow of the sun falling below the horizon. The color’s spreading across the sky, and the stars are becoming more and more visible. There are a few people out on the road, driving, or walking. I stop to talk to a few on my way to my apartment to pick up Frankie, and a basket of leftover croissants from my latest bake-off practice. I choose to leave my phone at home. It’s not something I normally do, but I don’t want to be distracted from my “date” with Alex.
When I finally reach the park, Frankie and I are alone. I scan the park, but all I see are the glowing street lamps and trees. I must be early. Frankie and I choose a table and sit. I’m looking around, but still don’t see Alex. I tell myself that he’s probably just running late. He’s probably finishing up an article or something, and lost track of time.
I look at my watch. It’s almost seven thirty. I continue to wait. Frankie lays underneath the table with a bored whine. But still, I wait. I know he’ll come. He has to.
But when waiting thirty minutes stretches into an hour, then that hour turns to two, I know he’s not coming.
Disappointment floods my heart as I slowly chew on the croissants, one by one. Did something happen to him? Did he get cold feet?
I’m not going to cry. Alex Carter isn’t worth the tears. But that doesn’t help my feelings. He stood me up. Plain and simple.
I stand, tugging at Frankie’s leash. He gets up and we head home with the now empty basket of croissants.
We make it to the apartment. I give Frankie two treats for being an exceptionally good boy during my failed date and then check my phone in case Alex called me. And, he did. Frowning, I check the message he left me.
“Emma, an urgent matter has come up, pulling me away unexpectedly. I can’t make it tonight. My apologies. Alex.”
Figures. I close my eyes tightly. I won’t be upset. I won’t.
But the truth is that I am. I’d hoped something might happen between Alex and me. And it wasn’t until just now that I realized how much I hoped something might happen. But he just showed me how wrong I was for hoping. He gets cold feet and skips town. Well, points for him for at least calling.
I get dressed for bed, then lay down. After Frankie eats, he climbs the steps I put by the bed and rests his head on the other pillow with a whine.
“It’s still just you and me, Frankie,” I mutter, petting him. Frankie lets out a whine and I close my eyes to sleep. It was a long day, and I only want it over with.