thirty-four | emberly
THIRTY-FOUREmberly
There are times I’m glad that my grandmother despises technology and this is one of them. Nona will text when she absolutely has to, but draws the line at video calls.
I lift the hem of my Dairy Den T-shirt and scrub at the tears streaming down my face before I answer the phone.
I don’t know why I’m crying.
Okay, that’s not entirely true. I’m crying because of the doubt I saw on Will’s face when Mrs. Gilford said his parents would be proud of him.
How is it possible he doesn’t know this?
I might also be crying because I don’t know if Will was going to kiss me.
I know he wanted to. But that’s different.
And what I want to know is whether he was going to admit something is happening between us or if he’s going to keep the part of himself—the part that builds treehouses and will do anything to make his little sister happy—hidden from the rest of the world.
I blow my nose one more time and tap the screen.
“Hi, Nona!”
“I thought you were coming home today.”
Oops.
“I decided to stay another week. I met a woman who’s building a vacation home in the area and she wants to hire me.”
I don’t mention Iris’s party. Nona draws a hard line between business and pleasure and a thirteenth birthday party wouldn’t qualify as either one.
Nona harrumphs. “What about Stephanie?”
“I’ll fit her in,” I promise.
“When is your flight? I’ll send a car to pick you up.”
“Um … next Saturday? I haven’t booked it yet.”
“Are your friends staying another week, too?”
“No, they had to leave.” Another tear leaks out of my eye and takes me by surprise. “Olivia is engaged.”
“I suppose that means you’ll be flying all over the country for dress fittings and bridal showers and all that other fuss.”
“I hope so. Liv is the first one of the Sixteens to get married.”
“Did they set a date?”
“Not yet. We didn’t really talk about the details.”
I realize we didn’t talk much at all. Rachelle complained about her job more than usual, but it’s because she would rather be an influencer than answer the phone at her uncle’s law firm.
Whit has switched careers three times since we graduated from Langley-Davis and recently moved in with her sister while she “figures things out”.
“Well, I’m sure you’re looking forward to returning to civilization. Hazel doesn’t expect you to catch your own fish for dinner.”
“Actually, we ate them for breakfast.” I wait for the harrumph and Nona doesn’t disappoint. “Did you like the picture I sent of the eagles?”
“Was that real? Everyone in my book club thought it was that artificial intelligence business.”
“It was real. So was Thunder, the horse I rode.”
I hear the click of a manicured finger nail against the granite countertop. “Please try to come back in one piece, Emberly.”
“I will.”
I wish I could say the same thing about my heart.
“And send more pictures.”
I love you, too, Nona.
I say goodbye and walk over to the window. Firefly is about twenty feet from Will and Iris’s cabin and there’s a light glowing in the kitchen window.
A shadow moves behind the curtain and I resist the temptation to sneak over and knock on the door.
We could have a birthday party brainstorming session.
And give him another opportunity to kiss me.
No. Kissing.
I take a restless lap around the room and end up at the window again.
While Iris and I were setting up for the competition, I tried, unsuccessfully, to get her to share some ideas for the party.
I get it. There are a lot of directions she could go, and her sister Brighton isn’t here to offer advice.
I decide to do a little brainstorming on my own. I’m wide awake. The kind of wide awake that feels like I’ve had an espresso injected directly into my veins. Or maybe it was all that chocolate in the pudgy pies.
Or maybe it’s because I can’t stop thinking about the kiss that didn’t happen.
The light on Will’s porch suddenly illuminates the yard between our cabins and I lurch backwards. The last thing I want is for Will to think I’m spying on him. Even if, technically, peering out the window, hoping for a sight of him, definitely fits the criteria.
The back door opens and Will steps outside. After the day he’s had, I’m surprised he’s still upright. He had fun tonight, though. I could tell.
Will hadn’t chosen to run Pinehart, but he’s better at it than he thinks he is. The guests like him. Respect him. And even though Will doesn’t talk a lot, he knows their professions. Their children’s names. How they like to spend their free time.
He’s quiet but it isn’t indifference. Will pays attention.
I’ll bet that makes him a really good kisser, too.
Okay, that’s it.
I shut the thought down, march over to the coffee table and grab my laptop. I’m going to jot down some notes and then I’m turning in for the night.
I flip on the light in the bedroom and squeal.
Juni is stretched out on the comforter with her head on my pillow.
“How did you get in here?”
Her tail swishes back and forth like a furry windshield wiper.
Now I know why Will stepped outside. He wasn’t hoping to see me. He was looking for Juni.
“Come on. Time to go home.”
Juni’s eyes close.
“Oh, no you don’t. You have to sleep in your own bed tonight. And I can tell you right now, it’s more comfortable than this one.”
I finally coax her off the bed and herd her outside.
Will is gone, so I tap on the back door.
It opens a few seconds later. In that short span of time, he must have gotten ready for bed, because he’s wearing loose-fitting joggers and a plain white T-shirt.
“There you are.” He’s looking at Juni.
“Don’t ask me how, but she was in my cabin.” I may be guilty of spying, but draw the line at dognapping.
“She can open the screen door with her nose.” Will opens the door wider and Juni scoots past him.
Neither one of us move.
“Is Iris asleep?” I finally ask.
“Five minutes after she went upstairs.”
“You must be exhausted, too.” It takes all my self-control not to smooth the strand of dark hair off his forehead.
“You’d think so.”
A moth, drawn to the light, flutters past my ear and takes advantage of the open door.
“I should go. I’ve got some birthday planning to do.”
We’re still not moving.
The door opens a few more inches.
“Since neither of us are tired, do you want to do some of your planning inside? I can’t offer any ideas, but I do have leftover pancakes from breakfast.”
Suddenly, I’m starving. And leftover pancakes and Will sounds like the perfect way to end the day.
I slip past him into the kitchen. The scent of maple syrup and bacon still lingers in the air.
Will warms up the pancakes in the microwave, but instead of smothering them in syrup, he sprinkles sugar and cinnamon on the tops and folds the whole thing in half like a taco.
He turns and catches me watching. Shrugs.
“Now it’s an appetizer.”
The man is a genius.
Plates in hand, we drift into the living room. Will is barefoot, so I kick off my sandals and settle on the sofa, using the arm as a table. He claims the recliner across from me.
For a few minutes, we eat in silence. Juni has retired to her dog bed and a small lamp on the table provides the only light in the room. Shadows falls across Will’s face, but I can feel his gaze on me.
I wish I knew if it was my imagination—or wishful thinking—that Will was about to kiss me before Knox interrupted us.
“Em …” His voice is low, husky, and the bite of pancake I just swallowed sticks in my throat.
“Mmmm hhh?”
“The party?”
Oh, right. Because that’s why I’m here.
Stay on task, Emberly.
“Iris told me that she invited six friends. All girls,” I add.
Will looks confused … and then horrified. It’s clear the possibility of a co-ed guest list hadn’t occurred to him.
I chuckle. “I’m sure Iris does have friends that are boys.”
“Maybe,” he allows grudgingly. “But they’ve never been invited to birthday parties before.”
Oh, Will. Life is going to change in a few years.
“She also gave me the time. Four until nine, so it doesn’t interfere with your work day.” Although I’m guessing Will’s work day starts at dawn and doesn’t officially end until he falls into bed at night.
“Bright said it has to have a theme of some kind. Did she come up with one yet?”
I shake my head. “No. I tried to get her to talk about it, but she was more interested in the competition. I think … I think Iris is a little overwhelmed. It’s a lot of pressure.”
“I thought it was supposed to be fun.”
“It will be.” I have an epiphany. “How about a surprise party?”
“Um … Cab already knows about the party, so it’s going to be hard to surprise her.”
“A surprise party … not a surprise party.”
Will looks down at his glass of water. “I think I need a cup of coffee for this.”
“What if we tell Iris that she doesn’t have to plan anything? What if we tell her that I’ve got it all under control and will handle all the details? No pressure. She won’t have to stress about whether she’s picking the right activity or cake flavor or party favors.”
The more I think about it, the more I realize how perfect this is. A dozen ideas are already ricocheting around in my head.
“Is she stressing about that?”
“Yes. All she has to do is trust me.”
Will’s gaze slides away from me. Okay. Maybe Iris isn’t the only one whose trust I have to earn.
“If Cab agrees, it’s fine with me.” Will eyes me cautiously. “It’s not going to be a masquerade ball, is it?”
“No.” I steal the last pancake taco. “It’s going to be better.”