Chapter Nineteen
Emma awoke to the buzzing of her phone. She groaned, annoyed with herself for not putting her phone in do-not-disturb mode before she went to sleep.
She rolled over and grabbed it. As her muscles stretched, she let out a happy sigh.
Last night had really happened. And Caleb was perfect, of course. She smiled against her shoulder.
She tapped her phone, dismayed to see the incoming texts were from Davis. She hadn’t checked her phone since before the party last night, so the texts spanned from around seven o’clock last night to just now.
Is there any way we could talk this out? I really miss you, Em.
Ten o’clock. You’re leaving me on read now, Em? Seriously?
Two o’clock. Emmybear, I miss you.
Just now… Please give me a call when you get this. I’m worried.
She groaned and kicked the covers off. The last thing she wanted was to talk to Davis. As much as her sappy, stupid heart wanted to believe that he was finally waking up to how amazing of a partner Emma was, she was too skeptical about that.
More than likely, Davis was starting to realize just how Emma had contributed to his life in a hundred different ways. Making sure all the bills were paid. Getting his suits from dry cleaning. Arranging his personal appointments and the like.
She was a glorified secretary. She’d done it all—for years—because Davis did help to give her a life she couldn’t have afforded on her own.
Before they’d met, she’d lived in a shitty condo in Adams Morgan with two roommates.
With him, she’d wanted for nothing. So, it had felt like an even partnership, oddly.
Her life with Davis had been a step above. But she wondered if she ever truly loved him. This string of messages confirmed that even if she’d once loved him, she no longer did. She picked up her phone.
I appreciate you reaching out, but there’s nothing to talk about. I’ll be back in the city the first week of January, and then I’ll pack up my stuff and return my keys to you.
Three bubbles appeared on the screen almost instantly.
Please, Em. I just want to talk.
She would never forget the way he’d snarled at her when she’d ended things with him. Davis might have always been indifferent, but he’d never been cruel. She could never go back.
We can talk in person in January, but it won’t be about picking up where we left off. That ship has sailed. Have a Merry Christmas.
With that, she muted notifications on his messages and threw her phone back onto the bed.
She refused to let her ex put a damper on her mood.
She needed to get out of this room. She showered, dressed, then left to walk to the lodge for a late breakfast. She winced against the late winter sun before going back inside to grab her sunglasses.
She kept them on even after she stepped inside. Had it always been this bright in here?
Or was she just painfully hungover?
The restaurant was nearly empty, given that it was closer to lunch than breakfast. Lainey stood at the host stand, wiping down menus.
“Did those shots come back to bite you this morning?”
“No, it’s just particularly bright in here today. Must be all the windows.”
Lainey chuckled at that. “It’s a good thing you missed out on the breakfast with Santa, then. Those kids were all over the place. I know just what you need to cure your hangover.”
“Did Caleb dress up as Santa?”
“Don’t you think I would’ve mentioned it first if he had?” Lainey laughed. “His dad was on Santa duty. Now go find yourself a seat. I’ll put your breakfast order in.”
Emma bristled slightly at Lainey’s bossiness—but then she let it go. Unlike Davis’ mother, who’d been a commanding matriarchal figure, Lainey meant well.
Besides, it’s not as if Caleb hadn’t warned her how his family was. She knew what she was getting into.
She nestled into a booth by the window, set her journal on the table, and pulled out a small travel watercolor set. The hazy sunbeams stretching across the dining room floor inspired her.
Lainey swung by with a mug of coffee. “Do you need a glass of water for your paints, darlin’?”
Emma produced a water pen. “Thank you for asking, but this does the job just fine.” She squeezed the base, sending water pooling into the paint pan.
“Well, ain’t that something. You know, the biddies and I are very into arts and crafts. Are those watercolors? Maybe you could teach us a class in the new year.”
Emma reached for her pencil. “You know, I haven’t decided one way or another if I’ll be staying in the area. Everything is new.”
Lainey smirked. “You’re right. That was my assumption. I put your breakfast order in. I’ll leave you to your art.”
As Lainey retreated, Emma exhaled. Perhaps she did have a side of crankiness with her hangover. She was tired of people assuming they knew what her next move was. First Davis, assuming he could work his way back after a few texts, then Lainey.
Lainey’s assumptions were harmless, but they grated nonetheless. For the first time since she’d left college, she felt like the path of her life was truly up to her, which wasn’t as exciting as it should be. It was downright terrifying.
She shook off her bad mood and returned to her drawing.
As much as she hated to admit it, Lainey was right about breakfast. Something about a super greasy breakfast sandwich with pure maple syrup to dip it in did her queasy stomach and shitty mood wonders.
“How did everything turn out?” Lainey appeared as Emma pushed her plate away.
“I feel a lot better, thank you.”
Lainey leaned over her shoulder to look at her drawing of the breakfast room. “You’ve got real talent, Emma. That’s so lovely. You should start selling these drawings.”
“I had an online shop for a little bit, where I sold my work, but it got too overwhelming to keep up with. Maybe I will in the future.”
“That reminds me.” Lainey slipped into the booth opposite her. “I was going to head back into town. I could get the keys to look at the potential space for your stationery shop, if you want?”
“Seriously?”
Lainey reached over and grabbed Emma’s hands. “You’ll find that there isn’t much I can’t do, darlin’. I’m in the habit of helping people’s dreams come true.”
“That makes you sound like something of a fairy godmother.”
“What makes you think I’m not?” She slid out of the booth and squeezed Emma’s shoulder. “Stay put. I’ve got to wrap up a few things before we head into town, okay?”
* * * *
Lainey made the forty-five-minute drive down the mountain pass in what felt like a moment.
She was the epitome of Southern charm. Normally, when people pried into her personal life, Emma put up a boundary.
She hated the pitying looks she’d get when she told people she’d grown up in foster care.
They wanted to know the whole rigmarole of what happened to her parents, what she’d gone through… it was exhausting.
Surprisingly, Lainey didn’t press for many details, except for one.
“So, you don’t know any of your birth family?”
“I never knew my dad. My mom tried to stay sober, but eventually addiction won. My grandma raised me until her death. Then I went into foster care because there was no one to take over kinship care. I’ve thought about doing one of those online DNA tests to see if it drops anyone off my family tree, but I haven’t worked up the courage to do it. ”
Lainey pulled her SUV into a prime spot in front of the Ellis & Daughter office and cut the engine.
“Well, darlin’, sometimes family is what you make of it. I’ve been blessed with mine. Everyone’s always welcome in the Ellis family.”
A knock on Lainey’s window spared Emma from answering. She wasn’t sure how she would, anyway. Maybe she’d spent too long in the city. People here were just kinder.
Lainey unrolled the window and waved to the woman on the other side. “Hi, Tinesha. She’s one of the biddies,” she told Emma.
“One that doesn’t get as involved in their schemes, I promise,” Tinesha added. “I’m just here to drop off the keys. I’ll pick them up from you tomorrow morning.”
“Do you own the building?” Emma asked.
“No, Mayor Ford does. I’m his assistant. He’s not a bad landlord if you want to stick around.” She gave a wave. “Nice to meet you, Emma.”
“I didn’t tell her my name,” Emma muttered.
“You should know by now, in a place like this, you don’t have to,” Lainey said.
It took Lainey some wiggling to finally open the door. “Here we are.”
Lainey pushed the front door open. Then Emma noticed the floral stained-glass detailing at the top of the door. The late afternoon sun sent rainbow-colored sunbeams across the old wooden floor.
Lainey flicked on the lights and closed the door behind them.
Emma took a moment to breathe in the old space. It had that aroma that old buildings often did. Dust, layers of old paint, and the battered wooden floors mixed to give off a scent you either loved or hated.
Emma was the former. She inhaled.
She turned to Lainey. “What has this space been over the years?”
“Well, it was the running store until earlier this year when they moved to a bigger space around the corner. Then, before that, it sat empty for a few years. No one wanted to be next to the Weird Sisters’ metaphysical shop two doors down.
” Lainey rolled her eyes at that. “As much as I love this town, sometimes the stereotypes can be true about some folks being closed-minded, you know?”
Emma only nodded as Lainey carried on speaking. “It was an optician’s office and a candy store when my kids were little. It could use some fresh life in these old walls.”
Emma ran her fingers over the long, battered, dark wood shelves running along the left wall. She could see displays of curated pens, pencils and art supplies, small gifts, cards—the mental list went on and on.
“You’ve got a faraway look in your eyes. Come, let’s look at the space upstairs.”
Emma followed Lainey up the stairs at the rear of the store. They were sturdy, having recently been replaced.
“Now this space is a little rougher,” Lainey warned. “The shoe store just used it for extra storage space, so they covered up the windows. So, use your imagination.”
She pushed open the door and flicked on the overhead light. Dust motes floated in the weak glow emanating from several bare bulbs hanging throughout the space.
Only two walls of the space were usable. There was a strange angle to the roof, and the windows jutted out beautifully. But that didn’t leave a lot of workable wall space. The back wall was also slanted, with a sink and counter taking up most of the room.
But she could see the space transformed in her mind’s eye. Tables for crafting along the window wall. Perhaps some cozy chairs for reading or fiber crafts.
It would work.
“I’ll tell you that the biddies have been looking for a space to gossip and work on our knitting projects. We could be your first customers.”
“Oh, I couldn’t charge you,” Emma said.
Lainey gave Emma’s shoulder a squeeze. “Friends and family rate, of course. Besides, we’re all business owners around here. We’ve learned that true friends are the ones who support you with their friendship and occasionally their pocketbooks.”
Emma let out a small groan. “Pocketbooks, yeah. I don’t want to let my dreams get too far ahead of me. I am unemployed, after all.”
“Well, not to get too much in your business, but Caleb did say that this wasn’t exactly a pipe dream for you. That you were smart with your money and had some savings.”
“I do. I just honestly have…no idea how much this would cost. I’ve never run a business before.”
“Well, like I said, there are several of us who can help. How about the first step is to see what the rent will be? Then we can figure out the rest.”
There was something oddly reassuring about her use of we. As much as she didn’t want to get attached to Caleb and Falling Leaves, she worried it was far too late for that.