54. Emerald Creek
fifty-four
Emerald Creek
H ours later
Emerald Creek is buzzing with its low-grade customary activity. Right outside town, the garage overlooking the valley is operating at a slower pace, with its owner away. Easy Monday is where the gossip has returned for now.
In the heart of the village, Ms. Angela trots from Shy Rabit to the general store, where Noah is shoveling snow off the sidewalk. Alex leaves the bakery to go pick up Skye from school.
Moments later, a car parks alongside the curb, and a woman in a pink bandana climbs the steps to the bakery and asks for Chris.
Willow is helping at the register today, although since Kiara left, she’s who makes most of the pastries for Chris—and she’s grateful for the extra money. She pokes her head into the bakehouse and catches Chris’s attention. “There’s someone here for you.” The woman in a pink bandana looks vaguely familiar to her, she asked for Chris by name… and she’s right there, behind her, making herself at home in the employee-only section of the bakery.
The vision of Annabel in his shop fills Chris with pride. Save for a brief encounter during Laskin, so far they’ve only talked on the phone, and there hasn’t been time to make the promises of meeting on each other’s turf come true. “Annabel! It’s an honor.”
“Yes, well…” she says as they shake hands.
“What brings you here? Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”
Annabel waves the offer away. “I’m good, thank you.”
Chris leans against a prep table and crosses his arms, examining the celebrity chef, savoring the vision of her in his inner sanctum. If he wasn’t so in awe, he’d ask for a selfie.
“So you should know…” Annabel starts, then twirls around his bakehouse. “Nice little outfit you got here.”
“Thank you.” He looks down at his feet, her unease creeping into him. “I should know?”
She takes a quick inhale. “Actually, the capstone project at the Institut Pierre de Varanges is a pastry production challenge.”
Chris frowns, trying to shake off the unpleasant feeling of doom. “What do you mean?”
She clasps her hands in front of herself and blows raspberries. “It’s a black box. A market basket.”
Thin, cold sweat forms on his back. Surely she’s talking about something else, right? Because why would they have gone through the trouble of sending Colton to Paris with a shitload of local foods if Kiara wasn’t allowed to use any in her capstone project?
“Spell that out for me,” he says.
Annabel scratches her head, then repositions her pink bandana. “Feel like we’re gonna need a drink for this conversation.”
Chris stands still for a moment. Is she for fucking real? He feels like telling her off, but this is Annabel Plum. There are limits. “I’ll see you at Lazy’s,” he says. He storms out without a coat or even a hat and climbs over the pile of snow Nathaniel plowed alongside their sidewalk, not bothering to see if Annabel is following. He has two hundred feet to work out his frustration; he better make each one count.
“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Justin asks him as he storms into Lazy’s.
“I’m gonna need a double for this one. And you might too.”
Justin raises an eyebrow. “Let’s tackle the Whistle Pig Twelve Year, then. Try and make it last, yeah?” He grabs the heavy bottle and two rocks glasses. His gaze fleets back to the door.
“Thank you, honey,” a woman in a pink bandana says to Willow as they both come through the door. “Aww who’s a gooddog? Who’s a gooddog?” the woman coos at Moose, then lowers herself until she disappears, hidden by the bar, and her voice comes out muffled. “Who needs a belly rub? Yesh. Yesh you do. Aww.”
Willow’s eyes are like saucers, but her lips are pinched like someone trying not to laugh. “You need a drink too?” Justin asks her.
Willow shakes her head. “Just water. This is gonna be plenty fun enough. Thanks, though.”
Justin pours Chris his drink, then leans over the bar. “Afternoon, ma’am.”
The woman stands up. “Thank you, you too.” Then, turning to Chris who’s halfway down his whiskey, she adds, “You ready for the talk?”
“Why don’t I move you to a booth,” Justin says. In his ten years owning Lazy’s, his policy has always been no drama. The last thing he wants is an argument at the bar, right as people walk in.
“Nah, I think this conversation needs to happen right here, where everyone coming in can participate.”
Justin shakes his head. “Dude, not happening.”
“Why don’t you hear what Ms. Plum has to say, and then you decide,” Chris answers, solidly anchoring his forearms on the bar.
Justin beams. “You’re Annabel Plum?” He extends his hand. “So happy to meet you. Welcome. I keep missing you every time you’re in town. And thanks so much for everything you did for Kiara.” He almost wants to ask for a selfie with her, one he could print and frame in a place of honor, but something tells him this isn’t the time. “So uh…” His gaze fleets between her and Chris. Might as well get this over with now . “What brings you here?” On instinct, he grabs another rocks glass and pours a Whistle Pig for her as well.
She takes the glass, swirls the liquid, tilts her head, mutters, “What the hell, let’s do this,” then downs the whole thing. Slaps the glass on the counter and says, “I thought I had a genius idea, but this guy here seems to think differently.” Her thumb points sideways at Chris. Their gazes do not meet. They’re taking Justin as their referee. Not good . Luckily, Chloe slides next to him behind the bar, wraps her arm around his hips, pecks his jaw, then taking the atmosphere in, she asks, “What’s up?”
Chris opens his mouth to answer, but is interrupted by Alex and Skye barging in. “There you are!” Alex exclaims. “The bakery’s empty, you’re not answering your phone, and—” Registering the expressions on both sides of the bar, she interrupts herself. “What’s going on?”
“Shit’s hitting the fan,” Willow chimes in. “We just don’t know which way the wind is blowing yet.”
“What shit?” Chloe asks.
“Honey, why don’t you take Moose for a walk?” Alex says to Skye.
Skye perches herself on a stool on the other side of Willow. “Maybe later.”
Alex blinks, seems to have an internal conflict about which battle to fight, then looks at her fiancé. “Honey? What’s going on?”
Skye tucks herself against Willow. “This is gonna be good,” Willow whispers in her ear.
“You know how we got the whole town to convince Colton to bring food and shit to Kiara?” Chris answers Alex, looking at Annabel.
The door swings open on Grace and Ethan clutching at each other, followed by Cassandra and Noah. All four were having a lively conversation that stops as they soak up the somber atmosphere at the bar.
“What’s going on?” Noah asks, his eyebrows furrowing.
“We don’t know yet, you inter-rupted Daddy!” Skye pipes in from the other end of the bar.
All eyes converge on Chris. “And you know how we put up a collection to pay for his flight to bring all this shit to Paris, right?”
Alex, sensing her fiancé’s anger, places herself to his side so she can rub his back.
Justin nods to encourage him to keep talking. “What happened? Did Kiara drop out? Hell, s’long as she comes back here, we don’t care, do we?”
“What happened is that Ms. Plum, all along, knew that the capstone project was a black box.”
“What’s ’at mean?” Willow asks. At some point Skye climbed on her lap to hear better, and Willow is now twirling the child’s hair in her finger.
Annabel clears her throat. “It means she’s not allowed to use any outside ingredients. They all get the same assignment, and they all get the same ingredients.”
Willow slams her fist on the bar. “I knew it!” she hisses. “But no one would listen to me!”
“Why would you let us do that?” Noah asks. “This makes no sense.”
Annabel pulls her bandana off, unruly strawberry blond and silver curls springing free as she scratches her head. “You guys were just so… so loving and caring. I never had that.” Her eyes moisten a bit. “ I know how much you mean to Kiara. I don’t know that she knows how much she means to you . The idea of doing that was just so… loving… and generous.” Her chin wobbles a bit, and she takes a deep breath to center herself. “I wanted her to feel how loved she was. And I thought Colton bringing all this to her would… solidify this.”
The room is silent, everyone dealing with their own reaction to this revelation.
Annabel breaks the silence. “I feel guilty for pushing her to go to Paris. I was thinking how it was for me, back then. But she has something good here, and I don’t want her to miss out on a life in Emerald Creek, with all of you, and Colton. I… I didn’t know how to tell her. She’s been emailing me from Paris, asking me for professional advice. She’s treating me like a mentor, and while I’m honored to be that for her life as a pastry chef, I can’t possibly let that be her whole life. I wanted her to see , to feel , to touch , what she was going to miss out on if she takes on an international career.”
Chris exhales loudly, takes Alex in a closer embrace, and grunts. Justin mindlessly rubs Chloe’s back. Cassandra slides behind the bar, makes a Shirley Temple for Skye, then starts pouring everyone a shot of Whistle Pig.
Skye stifles a burp, then breaks the silence, expressing the general opinion. “He’s gonna feel so weiiiiird.”
The visual of Colton in a flannel shirt and muddy boots showing up in a hoity-toity Parisian building with a suitcase full of smuggled cheddar cheese and maple syrup is on everyone’s mind.
“Aaaah fuck,” Willow says, then, “sorry for the language, kid.”
“Best-case scenario, he’s held up at customs,” Noah says.
Willow turns around to face him. “ That’s your best-case scenario? You got some serious shit to figure out.”
“I made him pack Dad’s cowboy hat,” Grace whispers in horror. “He promised to wear it. For good luck.”
A collective grunt erupts from the group. “Why the fuck would you make him wear a cowboy hat?” Chris asks.
“It looked more… American . That’s what we were going for.”
“Honey,” Cassandra says, “Texas isn’t known for their maple syrup and we sure don’t wear cowboy hats over here.” She’s looking at Grace like she’s a little soft in the head.
“It’s… the French… they don’t know the difference,” Grace explains. “Ms. Angela… Ms. Angela had a French guest at the bed-and-breakfast who asked to see ‘the Indians!’ So I figured—”
Chloe grunts, “Wow. That’s wild.”
“Right?” Grace says.
“And Colton went for that?” Chris asks in disbelief.
“It took some convincing on her part,” Ethan says.
Grace elbows him.
“Ouch, man, did you just throw your fiancée under the bus?” Justin laughs, but it’s nervous. They all need a little relief. They’re just not there yet.
“I think Col-ton will be okay because Kiara will de-fend him if anyone makes fun of him. She’s badass,” Skye declares.
“Skye, language,” Chris says, dad mode on automatic.
“I think she gets a pass for today,” Alex whispers.
Annabel spreads her hands out wide. “What do you want me to do? How can I fix this?”
“I think Skye is right,” Cassandra says. “There’s nothing to fix. Kiara will see this for what it is.”
“What about Colton?” Noah asks. “It’s okay to make a fool out of him as long as Kiara is happy?”
“Yeah, looks like that’s how it’s gonna go,” Willow says over her shoulder.
Ethan steps next to Noah. “He’ll be fine. You’ll understand someday, dude.”
“Are you saying you made a fool of yourself for me?” Grace asks.
“No, but I happily would, honey. Every day. Worth it.” Leaning toward Noah, he adds, “That’s how it’s done. You need to learn these things.”
Willow turns to Ethan. “You lie to your fiancée?” she hisses.
“It’s not a lie,” he answers. “It’s the honest truth. I totally would make a fool of myself every single day if that made her stay mine.”
“You agree with this?” she asks Noah.
He shrugs. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Guys, Colton’s calling,” Justin says, loudly enough for everyone to stop talking.