Chapter 16
“Emmie.” Henry’s voice is low and warm in my ear, making the fine hairs on my arms stand up. I shiver even though we’re standing in the sun in front of the store and it’s turning out to be a very pleasant morning.
“Yes?” I whisper, keeping the stilted grin plastered to my face as Crisanto slowly walks forward a few steps, filming the opening shot.
I’ve been dreading this moment, when the camera starts rolling.
I don’t love being the center of attention.
I get stiff and awkward and wooden, and my mind goes blank.
But I have to do this. It’s important and it’s going to be worth it.
“It’s natural to be a little nervous,” Henry observes gently. That’s being generous. I can feel that the smile stretching my face is more of a rictus, a horribly frozen fake grin I can’t seem to stop. I look like I’m being held at gunpoint and commanded to smile.
But then Henry’s hand is touching my bare arm, steady and reassuring.
He seems perfectly comfortable in the eye of the camera.
“This is very informal. Just relax and be yourself,” Henry tells me with an encouraging smile.
“Let’s see if we can make this fun, shall we?
” He gives my arm a little squeeze and peers into my eyes.
“I’m right here,” he tells me. I swallow and feel my smile slip into something that feels more natural.
After that, I loosen up. Having Henry with me helps a lot.
He’s so at ease in front of the camera, so genuine and relaxed, that within a few moments I forget about my nerves and start having fun with him.
We banter. We walk through Poulsbo, Crisanto trailing after us getting footage of the town—the shops, the harbor, the bay.
Back at the Happy Viking, I show Henry around our shop, telling a few cute anecdotes about growing up in a candy store.
Mom pops on camera midmorning to share about how she and Dad ran it for so many years together.
It’s a sweet moment. She even shows their wedding photo, and a picture of the day they opened the store.
They’re standing with their arms wrapped around each other, looking exhausted and so hopeful and in love.
I feel a twist of longing in my belly when I see that photo.
I want that kind of love. It’s what I’ve been waiting for, what I hoped my vision would finally show me.
I cross my fingers and concentrate on Henry. Maybe my someday isn’t far away.
The hours fly by as we film different parts of the episode. Henry goes over each segment beforehand with me. I refresh my lipstick and smooth my hair a dozen times. By midmorning I’ve found a rhythm and rapport with Henry that feels natural and flirty and really quite enjoyable.
We take a break for lunch, sitting on a bench outside the shop in the sunshine, eating sandwiches from Britt’s Delish Café and washing it down with more coffee for me and tea for Henry.
I’m buzzed and energized and a little giddy.
I haven’t felt this alive in…I can’t remember when. This is actually really fun!
“Azra says the footage we’re getting is great. This is going to be a really engaging episode. You’re a natural,” Henry tells me, taking a bite of his turkey and Swiss sandwich.
“I’m really not,” I assure him. “You just make it feel easy.” I unwrap my turkey pesto and take a big, unselfconscious bite.
Henry smiles, looking pleased. “I’m glad to hear you think so.”
“What do you like about this work?” I ask, taking a sip of coffee.
Henry chews and considers. “I enjoy the travel,” he says.
“New places, new food. All of that intrigues me. But I love the stories the most, the human aspect of the job. The world is full of sad and difficult things, and I get to highlight some of the unsung heroes, the people who help make their communities better places to live. I like spreading that hope around. I like getting to meet and champion people like you, Emmie.”
“Oh.” I wave away the compliment. “I’m not a hero. I’m just a tired mom trying to keep all the pieces from falling apart.” I give a self-deprecating little chuckle.
Henry looks at me gravely. “Emmie, anyone who can run a business, raise a child, and take care of a parent in poor health, not to mention be involved in the community like you are, is an unsung hero. Everyone knows you here, everyone loves you. I don’t think you see how remarkable you are.”
I blush beet red and have to look away, concentrating on my sandwich.
It flusters me when Henry looks at me like that, like I’m worthy of admiration.
I haven’t felt this admired in…well, since Romaine.
And what a disaster that was. But this is different, I remind myself.
This is Henry. The man I am supposed to fall in love with.
The man who, according to my vision, is going to get down on one knee and ask me to marry him one day.
The thought boggles my mind. How lucky am I?
In the afternoon, Crisanto films while Mom and I reenact the scene in the kitchen where she tells me about the nest egg and we decide to move forward with me opening my own shop.
Of course we don’t mention the vision, but Dani does get to make an appearance, playing the role of supportive friend, which she hams up.
She wears her red romper and has big hair and an even bigger personality on camera.
She’s a force of nature. Mr. Butters makes an appearance too, wearing his best bow tie and uttering several long-suffering grunts and snuffles on camera.
I make fudge as Mom, Dani, and I chat. It feels a little stiff, but when Mom offers me the money to open the shop, we both tear up again for real.
Looking at her, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude.
She lives with daily pain but never stops loving those around her as best she can.
She’s a true hero, and I’m so glad Henry is highlighting her generosity and the legacy she and my dad built together.
After our fudge-making scene is over, Dani heads out to finish her last hour of her shift. She’ll come back later. Mom bids us farewell too. She and Dot and Mr. Butters are going to pick up Gus from school and then come back to the shop after the filming is done to help pack up the store.
Henry and I shoot our next scene in the kitchen as we discuss my vision to open my own shop.
“What is your dream, Emmie?” Henry asks me. “What draws you to making chocolates?”
This part is where I truly shine. I’m not nervous.
I’m bright and articulate and vivacious as I share my genuine enthusiasm for chocolate making and describe the storefront I’ve dreamed of for years.
I talk about how a chocolate can make a moment into a special memory, how it can console, or show love, or bring a little spot of happiness.
“I love that something I make can brighten someone’s day,” I explain.
Then I look up at Henry and stumble over my words.
There’s an expression on his face I can’t quite place.
It’s almost tender, a dash of astonishment mixed with a healthy dose of admiration.
It catches me off guard. When I finish my answer, fumbling over the last bit, Henry just keeps looking at me that way for a moment until Crisanto clears his throat meaningfully.
Henry blinks hard and then seems to snap back into reality to focus on the show.
Somehow we finish the scene. My heart is beating a little more quickly than normal, as though I’ve been running up a flight of stairs.
This is happening fast and it feels intense.
I don’t know how to handle it all. My insides are like half-set fudge, smooth and creamy and so thoroughly agitated I can’t quite seem to catch my breath.
Adrenaline is good, I remind myself, thinking of Jakob’s explanation.
I need to channel this feeling to help me do my best.
We have just finished filming the last sequence and are debriefing the day when Mom and Dot walk back in the door with Gus and Mr. Butters in tow.
“Mommy!” Gus cries, flinging himself at me. I catch him in a tight hug.
“How’d your science project presentation go, buddy?” I nuzzle the top of his head where his hair is still downy-chick soft.
He disengages and says nonchalantly, “Easy. It was about the moon.” Then he catches sight of Henry and stops short, eyes round and mouth open. This is the first time they’re meeting in person.
“Hello,” says Henry, sticking his hand out. “You must be Gus. I’m Henry.”
Gus shoots a sideways look at me, dumbfounded.
He’s grown up with Savor. I used to nurse him late at night while watching the show to keep myself awake.
Henry Summers has been a fixture in our lives since the beginning of Gus’s life.
Gus has never known a world without Henry Summers in it.
Tentatively, Gus extends his hand and gives Henry a solemn look and a firm handshake.
“Did you know that there’s such a thing as vampire stars that suck the life out of other stars? ” he asks conversationally.
Henry looks startled by this information. “I did not know that,” he says, casting a quick, cautious look at me. “That sounds quite violent.”
Gus cocks his head and considers this. “Maybe,” he says confidently, “but once the vampire star eats another smaller star, it explodes.” He shrugs at the casual brutality of the universe.
“Sounds like poetic justice,” Henry says diplomatically. He looks like he doesn’t quite know what to do with this conversation, but he’s bravely forging ahead anyway.
Gus wrinkles his brow. “It’s not poetry,” he says in confusion. “It’s just the laws of space.”
“Right.” Henry nods quickly. “You’re a very clever boy, aren’t you, Gus?”
Gus heaves a sigh and nods sagely. “Yes, I guess I am, but thinking about space can make a guy feel really small.”
That’s my cue to step in before this conversation derails further.
“I think Grammy’s got a special job for you, bud,” I tell him, kissing the top of his head.
“Why don’t you go find her? She’s in the kitchen.
I brought some of my sprinkle sugar cookies.
You can have one.” I brought them for the shoot and set some aside for Gus.
It’s my mom’s tried-and-true recipe and Gus’s favorite cookie.
We cover them with sprinkles and he takes them to school on hard days.
Gus scampers off to find Mom and the promised cookies.
Henry looks after him thoughtfully. “What a singular child,” he says. “As a boy all I remember thinking about was trains. I’m not sure the universe ever crossed my mind.”
“Gus has gotten very interested in space since my dad passed away,” I explain.
“They were very close, and I think it’s Gus’s way of trying to make sense of Dad’s death, of mortality in general.
He’s become obsessed with space catastrophes and weird facts.
I’m not sure if I should encourage it or not.
” I spread my hands, a gesture of helplessness.
I don’t know how to help my son with his fears and fixations, other than to keep showing him constancy and care.
A lot of parenting is just showing up and doing your best, Mom tells me all the time.
So that’s what I try to do. I hope it’s enough. I fear it might not be.
“Gus is lucky to have you,” Henry says.
“Do you like kids?” I ask, unsubtly prying. It’s an important question to ask if we are going to have a future together.
Henry hesitates. “I do. I haven’t been around them much though, to be honest. I never quite feel like I know the right things to say to them.
It’s funny. I can be in front of an audience of millions with no trouble, but one primary school child makes me feel tongue-tied.
” He gives me a rueful smile. “I have a niece who’s nine though, so I’m not wholly unskilled when it comes to children. ”
I don’t know why, but I feel a little disappointed and unsettled by his answer.
Gus is the most important person to me, and I always imagined my partner, when I found the right one, would be an excellent mentor to my son.
I guess Henry could grow into it. People learn and grow, right?
I push the niggling worry aside. It will all work out. It has to.