Chapter 38
Five minutes later I’m paddling out into the bay in a borrowed blue kayak while Ed munches my raspberry Danish and watches from the dock.
“You’re doin’ great!” he calls encouragingly, mouth full. “Just remember to steer into the swells.”
I scan the bay, looking for Jakob. A few sleek seal heads bob a little ways from shore, and there is a sailboat far out on the water.
Then I spot him, a dot of orange. He’s far out.
I’m not sure I can catch him, but I’m going to try.
Before I head in his direction, I wrestle my purse from the dry goods compartment at the front of my kayak, careful not to tip myself out into the water, and pull out the little glass jar of sprinkles.
Keeping my eye on the orange dot on the horizon, I shake a few sprinkles into my palm and lick them up, letting them melt on my tongue, reassured by the familiar zip of energy down my spine.
The conversation I intend to have with Jakob is going to take all the inner fortitude I possess.
Then I open the bakery bag with the remaining Danish, Jakob’s Danish, inside and shake half a dozen sprinkles onto the pastry.
No harm in giving him a little extra courage too, right?
Mustering my resolve, I dip my paddle deep into the water and head for the orange dot as fast as I can paddle.
It takes longer than I expected to reach Jakob.
There’s a breeze today, and I have to work against the current and the wind.
I’m gasping and sweating by the time I pull within earshot of him.
He’s just sitting in his kayak, bobbing on the gentle swells, wearing a pair of silver aviators and watching me struggle across the bay to him.
When I get close, I suddenly don’t know what to say.
Nervously, I stop paddling. The noses of our kayaks bump together gently.
He just sits watching me impassively. I can’t read his expression behind his sunglasses.
I decide to take the plunge and say what I came to say.
Courage, Emmie. Courage. I think of the sprinkles and lick the faintest floral essence from my lips.
“I screwed up,” I tell him bluntly. “You were right about what you said in Vancouver. I was scared.”
He doesn’t say anything. He’s wearing his old faded blue Viking mascot T-shirt from high school under his life jacket, and his mouth is set in a firm line. I wish I could see his eyes. I press on.
“For years I’ve let other people define my life for me.
I have responsibilities to the people I love, obviously.
Taking care of Mom and Gus isn’t going to change, and I don’t want it to.
They are my family, and it’s my privilege and responsibility to care for them, but somehow in all the taking care of everyone, I forgot to save any part of my life for myself.
I let everyone else make my choices for me and dictate how I spend my time and energy and even what my life looks like.
I let a five-second vision define my future—what I value and who I fall in love with.
” I pause and then burst out with the truth.
“But I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to have a say in my own life, to be at the helm of my own ship.
I want to make choices for myself about what I do, what makes me happy, who I give my heart to—all the things that give life meaning and purpose.
I want to decide what makes my life worthwhile.
I want to make my own choices from now on.
” I pause hopefully, waiting to see what he’ll say.
Jakob stirs. He clears his throat. “Why are you out here, Emmie?” he asks. He sounds skeptical. “Why are you telling me this?”
I swallow down my disappointment and keep my focus on him.
I’ve treated him badly. He has every right to be skeptical.
“I came to apologize. Jakob, I’m sorry I was a coward, and I’m sorry I hurt you.
I wish I could do it over. I want to treat people I care about better than that, and I do care for you. A lot.”
He looks at me, motionless and expressionless. I take the silence as an opening, although I’m not sure that’s how he’s intending it.
“I know what I want now,” I tell him earnestly.
“I want to be a loving, caring daughter to my mom in her golden years, and I want to be the best mommy to Gus that I can be. I want to open my own boutique chocolate store here in Poulsbo in my parents’ shop, and I want to find a way to get enough money that I don’t have to sell the store to Walt.
I have no idea how I’m going to do that, but I really want to honor my family’s history and keep the shop to pass on to Gus.
I want to build a business I can be proud of and make delicious chocolates that honor our beautiful part of the world.
I want my creations to help people find comfort or celebration, or just brighten their day a little.
” I take a beat, thinking of my new list, of the things I just said.
There is one more thing I want, if I am brave enough to say it.
Jakob tips his head slightly to the side.
He’s listening. “Okay,” he says slowly. There’s a question in his tone.
Our kayaks keep drifting apart and bumping back together, so he takes his oar and wedges one paddle under the stretchy deck lines on the front of his kayak and the other end of his paddle through the deck lines on the front of mine, keeping us a few feet apart, facing each other.
I pause and fidget with my own paddle in my lap. I think of the yellow dress. “And I want to wear comfortable clothes, not pinchy dresses, even if they are the color of sunshine and seem perfect but are actually not.”
Jakob raises an eyebrow. “That seems oddly specific,” he observes dryly.
“I think that dress is a metaphor for my life,” I admit. “But also I’m done with uncomfortable clothing. Like, for real.”
Jakob gives a little wry twist of his mouth, an acquiescence of sorts.
“I have three more things to tell you and then I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want,” I say, boldly. He frowns but sits back and waits. Apparently I’ve got a chance to say what I came to say.
“Number one: I am not interested in a romantic relationship with Henry Summers.” I dart a quick look at him.
His jaw flexes but he says nothing. I really wish I could see his eyes behind the tinted lenses of his sunglasses.
It’s hard to be vulnerable with this whole stoic vibe he has going on.
I feel like I’m baring my soul to a granite boulder. I press on.
“Number two: I can’t stop thinking about you, even though I know I’ve messed up and hurt you.
I have always cared for you a lot, Jakob.
A lot. I think you’re one of the smartest, most interesting, most quietly caring people I’ve ever known.
I was serious when I said I think you and my dad ruined other men for me.
You both love people so well.” My voice catches on the words and I choke down a lump in my throat at the thought of my dad.
“And seeing you with Gus. He’s a weird, lovable, scared little kid grappling with a loss he can’t control, and you’ve given him the gift of time and attention and made him feel capable and strong.
I can’t thank you enough. And number three, I think…
” I bite the inside of my cheek and look over his shoulder, off across the water as I almost whisper the last honest words.
I summon all the courage I have, wishing I’d eaten more sprinkles.
Oh well, here goes. “I’m falling in love with you, and I hope you’ll give me another chance if there’s any part of you that feels the same way. ”
And then I stop talking and wait nervously for his response. For a long time Jakob doesn’t say anything. Then he stirs.
“Why should I trust you?” he asks bluntly.
I stare at him, at a loss for words.
Jakob’s jaw ticks. He shakes his head and laughs, but it isn’t a happy sound.
“Emmie, I’ve waited years to hear you say those words, to tell me that you feel this way.
First in high school, until you made it clear you had no interest in me other than as a friend.
And then when I came home last month, I found my feelings for you hadn’t gone away.
They’d simmered down for a while, but then I saw you and I started to hope again.
But Emmie, you’ve made it pretty evident that you are not interested in me.
At some point a man has to get the message.
I’ve gotten it loud and clear.” The set of his mouth is grim and determined. That scares me.
“But I didn’t mean it,” I choke out, feeling a little panicked. “I thought I had no choice. I was afraid.”
“You always have a choice,” he says calmly.
“The first time you said no, I understood. We were young. You were choosing a different life. That was your right, and you took it. Even though it broke my heart, it was your choice to make. But this time around…you were running away from something that could have been good, could have been great. So tell me, Emmie, why should I trust you now? What’s to say you won’t change your mind in a few weeks or months?
How can I trust you won’t be fickle? Because I’m not, Emmie.
My feelings haven’t changed. I’d need to know the same about you before I could ever trust you with my heart. ”
Somehow his words give me hope. He said “could,” which means all is not lost.