12. STERLING
Emma and I are meeting at our local coffee shop Perk Up Pour because she wants to show me the final version of the flyers we’re handing out. This is the perfect place for me today. I’ve been called out late after hours three nights in a row now.
First, the cat from the car accident, then a dog with a seizure, and last night a horse with twisted gut syndrome. I don’t normally do large animals, but the owners were desperate, so I went to help.
All the animals survived, so the late nights were well worth it.
I’ve ordered Emma her favorite drink, “Mocha Magic.” She got it every time we came here during high school. I could never get her to try anything else, even though there are so many other great choices.
It’s part of the reason I love this place. The drink names are so clever. There’s “Java Jive,” “Caffeine Craze,” and “Cuppa Comfort,” just to name a few. You will never see plain coffee anywhere on the menu.
I opted for “Expresso Euphoria” today and it’s doing its job keeping me awake.
As the front door chimes, my gaze shifts to Emma gliding in, radiating her usual stunning aura. Her blonde hair cascades down past her shoulders today, swinging side to side with her every movement as she looks around the shop.
“Emma, over here!” I call to her. Her smile lights up the room when she sees me.
Easy boy.
When she gets to the table, I hold out her drink. “Mocha Magic,” we say at the same time, then laugh together. She makes everything so easy.
After she savors her drink for a few minutes, she pulls out the flyers from her bag.
The vision she crafted after we met in the clinic a few days ago is now tangible, taking the form of brightly colored prints. Thanks to her artistic ability, they are sure to catch the eye of anyone who sees them.
”These are perfect. I can’t believe you secured a band so quickly. You must have used some of that famous Emma charm,” I tell her after I’ve looked it over.
”Maybe a little,” she says with a cheeky smile.
“Well, it looks great. You really outdid yourself.”
”You had a hand in it too.” She compliments.
“Maybe, but you did most of the work.”
Emma lets out a sigh. ”Okay, you”re right. I”m amazing.”
I laugh and shake my head. ”Yes, you are.”
”Are you ready to get your steps in for the day? Now we get to hand them out to everyone. You know, the fun part.”
”The fun part, right,” she says with a groan. ”It”s been a while since I”ve done much physical activity. My legs are sore just thinking about it.”
”Hey, we”re doing this for the animals,” I remind her in a teasing tone.
”You”re so funny,” she says, nudging me with her elbow.
”It”s true. I”m hilarious. Now, come on, you can do it. I know you can.”
Emma groans again, but I can see the humor in her eyes. ”Fine.”
We stop by the clinic to grab Buddy. His leg has really improved and Emma and I agree that he’ll love a little adventure on the town. Plus, his sweet little face should be effective in convincing people to help.
We park at the far end of town and step out into the scorching sunlight with Buddy in tow, armed with our stacks of flyers. ”Ready to hit the town, Dr. Grumpy?” Emma teases, a playful glint in her eyes.
I chuckle, realizing that the nickname has become a part of our dynamic. ”Always ready, Ms. Sunshine. Let”s do this.”
Our first stop is the Cedar Creek Public Library. Inside, the librarian greets us with a warm smile. Emma takes the lead, explaining our plans and the purpose of the fundraiser.
”This is a great idea,” she says with a nod. ”We can use the community hall for the raffle if you’d like. You”ll have no problem getting the whole town involved.”
”We already decided to have the raffle at the town square,” I say, a littler gruffer than I mean to.
Emma shoots me a look, and I shrug apologetically.
”That sounds like a good choice,” she agrees. ”Maybe the community center will be a good option for the silent auction, then. I”m sure you two have sorted that all out, don”t mind me butting in. We”ll get the word out about this wonderful project. Cedar Creek will be all about it, don”t worry.”
We move on to our next stop, a local florist, and the gentleman who owns it nearly falls all over himself trying to please Emma when she gives him the details of why we’re there. I don”t blame the guy. Anyone with half a brain can see her appeal. She”s charming and witty, and the radiance that fills her eyes can”t be ignored.
”How could I say no to a pretty lady like you?” he gushes. ”This is a wonderful cause, and you know how much I love animals. Let me write you a check.”
”Thank you so much,” Emma answers. “But today we’re just getting the word out about the dates. We’ll be back again for donations. Could you put the flyer up in the window in the meantime, please?”
“Absolutely!” She hands him the brightly colored paper.
Before we leave, he hands me a bouquet of sunflowers. ”It”s about time you give this girl a proper date. She deserves a gorgeous bouquet, so take this. If I remember from when she was younger, they are her favorite. And don”t worry, I won”t tell a soul.”
”Uh, thanks,” I mutter.
”And, Emma,” he adds, giving me a conspiratorial wink. ”Make him take you somewhere nice, yeah?”
I can feel the blood rush to my face. Apparently, the whole town can see the way I look at Emma. The only person who doesn”t seem to fully get it is her.
”Will do,” she replies, giggling at me. ”You hear that? Somewhere fancy.”
We say good-bye and move on to the next shop. Neither of us mentions the awkward comments from the florist. Well, maybe they weren’t awkward for her. I might need to be more conscious of the way I look at her. I didn’t know it was so obvious.
Buddy leads the way, sniffing the air as we walk, and I follow after him. His limp is almost gone, although I”ll probably end up carrying him before long. I’ll miss his doggy swagger.
”Hey, Sterling, you know what I just realized?” Emma asks as we leave the shop.
”What”s that?”
”This is like old times. Remember when we used to go around the neighborhood handing out flyers for the annual Halloween party?”
I chuckle, remembering. ”Yeah, I was never into that. And I hated the costumes. You and Peter always made us go in some theme.”
”It wasn”t that bad. We had some fun,” she says, nudging my arm.
“Really? How about the time we went as bacon and eggs, with you as the chef? I was the bacon and you kept making me lay down on the ground at every house so you could pretend to flip me with your ridiculously giant spatula.”
Emma throws her head back and laughs. “I can’t believe I forgot about that. You loved it! Just admit it.”
“We definitely got extra candy that year, but you realize there’s no one else in this world who could’ve gotten me to do that but you.”
And there it is. The smile that’s like an Emma vice grip, rendering me powerless until she decides to release her hold on me. I’m sure she flashed it back then when I was a teenage boy to convince me to dress up like bacon.
“Come on, let”s hit up the grocery store to prime them for future donations.” She bounds away and the movement in my limbs is restored.
The grocery store is a short walk from the florist, and Buddy follows his nose inside. We step through the automatic doors, and the cool air of the air conditioning feels like heaven against my hot skin. The lights are a little bright, and the aisles are a bit cramped, but it”s a nice place to get your daily errands done.
”Hey, Mr. Jones!” Emma calls out.
Mr. Jones is the owner and a sweet and jovial man. He”s the type of guy who always wears a smile and has a twinkle in his eyes. He”s also a bit of a gossip, and he knows everything about everyone in town. He”s a big fan of Emma too, but who isn’t really? He beams as we approach him.
”Emma, my dear, how are you?” he booms, pulling her into a hug. ”And Sterling, of course. It”s so nice to see you both. What can I do for you? Name it, and it”s yours.”
”Thank you, Mr. Jones,” Emma says, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. ”I”m glad you asked, because we have something important to talk to you about.”
”Anything for you, Emma. You know that. Ooh, who’s this little guy?” Buddy sniffs him eagerly.
“Well, he’s a big part of why we’re here. Sterling and I found him at the summer festival. He’s a stray. Long story short, we realized this town desperately needs a bigger shelter for animals like him. Sterling is looking to renovate the old factory and add a wing as a shelter. But, we need to raise the funds to make it happen.”
Emma continues talking him through the details, and this time I keep my big mouth shut. Dr. Grumpy will not make an appearance.
Once she”s finished, he says, ”My goodness, Emma. That”s a big undertaking. You and Sterling can count on me. How about I offer up ingredients for any baked goods for the raffle, particularly for your friend Mia. Whatever she needs, I”ll donate it.”
”Mr. Jones, you are such a doll,” Emma says. ”We really appreciate your support.”
”And you know the whole town will turn up,” he adds. ”I”ll make sure to tell everyone. Don”t you worry.”
We thank him, and he says good-bye with a warm hug for each of us. The local pet store, the hardware store, even the art gallery—they all become waypoints on our mission to garner support.
Emma effortlessly weaves together a compelling narrative about our fundraiser, leaving a trail of enthusiasm and pledges in her wake. The whole town is talking about our plans, and we”ve barely begun.
However, I can”t help but notice occasional teasing glances and winks from some of the town locals.
Emma handles compliments and teasing with grace, her smile unwavering. I, on the other hand, tend to get defensive when the joking hits too close to home.
The contrast between her easygoing demeanor and my more guarded response is striking.
Mrs. Thompson, the older woman who owns the cafe, catches my attention. ”Oh, Sterling,” she says, ”your friend here is a very charming young lady. I can see why you”re so drawn to her. Guess there”s hope for grumpy old hearts after all!”
I don”t know how to respond, so I try to chuckle this time and let it pass. She gives Emma a little wink before moving on.
”That”s the second time someone”s mentioned my grumpiness,” I tell her as we continue our rounds.
She smirks. ”Maybe there”s something to it then.”
I laugh, and as I”m about to retort, the cafe owner calls out, ”As far as your fundraiser goes, how about we offer a Paws and Pancakes breakfast special? A portion of the proceeds can go to the shelter. What do you think?”
”That”s an excellent idea,” Emma says, flashing a warm smile. ”That would be an awesome way to show your support, wouldn”t it, Sterling?”
”Sure,” I say, a bit hesitantly.
”I”m sure we can do a lot of good with that,” the woman adds.
”Thank you,” Emma says. ”That”s such a generous offer.”
We move on, and we have success almost everywhere we stop. The town is coming together, rallying behind a cause that resonates with their love for animals.
Yet, amidst the triumphs, I find my thoughts drifting to the subtle touches and glances Emma and I have exchanged. Her hand on my arm when she laughs, the way she looks into my eyes when she speaks—each interaction leaves an imprint on me, a lingering sensation that I can”t easily dismiss.
”We”ve covered a lot of ground today,” Emma remarks, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. ”The support has been incredible.”
”It really has,” I agree, my gaze momentarily meeting hers.
She smiles, and a wave of awareness crashes over me. For a moment, she doesn”t speak, and I wonder if she”s feeling the same thing I am.
”I”m really excited about this,” she says at last, her voice a bit lower than before. ”It’s going to be amazing. I can feel it. People are really invested in this.”
”Yeah,” I agree.
”And it’s going to be an amazing shelter, with you at the head of it all,” she adds.
I take a step forward, captivated by the sunlight dancing on her hair. When I reach out to tuck a rogue strand behind her ear, she leans into my touch, and my thumb instinctively traces the delicate curve of her ear. I feel an invisible string tying us together, pulling us closer.
I want to tell her how beautiful she is, and how much I admire her strength and her resilience. But before I get the opportunity, her phone starts buzzing. She glances at the screen, her expression shifting.
”It”s my brother,” she says. ”I should take this.”
I want to outlaw all phones, immediately. And dogs that trip you when you’ve finally gotten the courage to make a move. Okay not dogs, they can stay. But phones for sure.
”Of course,” I murmur, and watch her walk away.
I turn and focus on Buddy. He seems to be having the time of his life, making new friends at every stop. I”m thankful for the distraction, but as I walk along, I can”t stop thinking about the way she looked at me just a moment ago.
I’m starting to worry about how hard it will be to resist her if we continue to spend so much time together.
But that”s not even the biggest issue.
What I”m most concerned about is that I’ve stopped thinking how Peter will feel if something happens between us. She”s worth whatever comes, even if it”s a punch in the nose.
It”s like a fog is lifting, and I”m seeing things differently now.
There’s a lighthouse beacon trying to warn me that I’m headed for trouble, particularly by crashing into a rock named Peter. But I’m sailing right toward it anyway.