Chapter 22 #2
She offered a smile that wasn’t completely artificial and made her way down the stairs. “Nice” was an overstatement, but it hadn’t been as terrible as she imagined.
She helped Dad plate up the hot sausage rolls and mini quiches for the ladies at the front table. Serving customers food and refreshing their teapots kept her busy until she finally got a chance to return to the kitchen and breathe.
“It’s exhausting.”
“It’s called real work, Emma-Jane.” Her father chuckled. “It’s not forever, either. It’s why we close at two on Saturdays.”
“I’ll need a cup of tea and a good lie down,” she joked again, quoting her mother’s favourite axiom.
Her phone buzzed, and she checked the message. Oh. She sighed. Only something from Katie.
“You expecting a call?”
She shrugged. “I sent a message to Jordan ages ago, but he hasn’t replied.”
“He might be asleep still, although from what I remember, he’s always been an early riser like you.” He moved the cooking trays to the commercial dishwasher. “You know, forget the messages. It’s not too far to Highbury Farm. You could go visit once you’re done here.”
Her heart prickled. Actually see Jordan?
Texting felt safer, like she could maybe gauge how he was feeling after over ten days apart, ten days when he’d barely responded to her messages.
Seeing him in person left no room to hide.
No place to see how he was feeling and figure out how she should act after too many weeks of strain and awkwardness between them.
Yes, she knew she had to apologise properly, to beg his forgiveness for turning into a greedy, self-focused monster and not being the friend he deserved.
Oh, she was so far from the friend he deserved, while he’d been nothing but encouraging and supportive to her all these years.
Emotion pricked, and she sniffed it away.
“Emma?”
Her chin wobbled. Then she shook her head, unable to speak.
“Emma, love, what is it?”
She swiped at her tears, but they insisted on coming.
Then her dad drew close and wrapped her in a hug. “It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”
“But what if he doesn’t want to see me anymore?”
“Now don’t go catastrophising. That’s just a bit of burnout talking.”
She hugged him harder, feeling a deeper sense of connection with her father.
He knew what he was talking about, having resigned from the police force a decade or two ago after a season of one too many death knocks he’d had to perform.
Switching to a career that meant owning his love of baking had taken some guts, but he was so much happier than the man she remembered being stressed and gone all hours of the day when she was younger.
“I didn’t think I was burnt-out, but maybe I was.”
“We’re all only human, love. It’s why God wants us to rest.”
She’d been doing some of that this week, and it felt strange to have realised just how tired she was. Maybe that constant need for approval and to be seen as a shining success had blinded her to other truths too. Like the fact her body and mind were tired.
“Now, if you want to leave, I can take care of things here.”
“No, I’ll do it. I’m okay.” She wiped her eyes. Checked in the mirror on the back of the door to make sure her mascara hadn’t smudged. Pushed her shoulders back. “I’ve got this.”
“And God has got you, okay?”
She nodded, his words an echo of what Jordan had said to her. She closed her eyes. Lord, thank You that You’re with me today.
She placed a hand on the container of sweet treats left over from the café as she bumped down the dirt drive to Highbury Farm.
Dad’s white ute was the old-fashioned kind, a utility vehicle with a flat tray on the back like so many farmers around here used to use for all manner of tasks.
Until city folk moved in with their fancy American-inspired “trucks” that seemed twice the size and didn’t fit into the parking spaces at the supermarket.
Still, she bet those new vehicles came with better suspension than Dad’s far humbler chrome-free ute.
The brick pillars marked the start of the Knights’ driveway, and she turned in. The farmhouse chimney emitted smoke, which was understandable on a cold day like today.
Would he be inside? Would he be glad to see her? What if his parents were here? She didn’t really want to talk to him in front of them, but Meg was hospitality personified and would likely want to talk with her, especially as she hadn’t had the chance to do so at the café earlier this week.
She pulled in at the semicircular gravel parking area, and as soon as she pulled on the hand brake, the demon known as Bella came tearing around, barking. Well, that was one way to let people know she’d arrived. She didn’t need to ring the doorbell.
“Sit,” she commanded in as strong a voice as she knew, then tried the raised-eyebrow trick that seemed to work on others. To no avail.
“Bella! Sit down now,” Meg called from the door, her face lighting. “EJ! Well, this is a surprise. How are you?”
Emma-Jane retrieved the container and gingerly made her way up the brick path to the front door. “I’m okay. Thanks, Mrs. Knight.”
“Oh, it’s Meg and you know it.” She hugged her. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Speaking of, is … is Jordan back? I … I was working at the café this morning and thought he might like some of these.”
Meg glanced at the clear container and smiled. “If that’s what I think it is, then I think you’ll find the answer is yes.”
“I can leave them here if he’s asleep.”
“Oh no. He’s been up for hours. He’s out helping Graham with the fencing down near the dam, if you want to go down there. Otherwise you can stay here for a cup of tea with me. They started late and skipped lunch, so I’m sure they must be nearly finished and should be back soon.”
Bless Meg, but she wasn’t up for conversation with this kindly woman. She needed to speak to Jordan while she had her courage. “If it’s all the same with you, then I’ll go now and take this to them.”
Meg smiled, a gleam in her eye that said she knew who their visitor really wanted to talk to. “Then just head on down. You know the way, right?”
She nodded. It’d been a while, but she and Jordan had often hung out near the dam, especially in summer. She’d learned to swim in that stretch of water. “Thanks.”
“He’ll be glad to see you, pet.”
She hitched a smile to her face and proceeded down the grassy path that led to the dam, with Bella scampering at her heels.
A few minutes later, her steps slowed as she sighted Jordan and his dad working near the fence. Graham was holding a wooden post while Jordan used a post driver to pound it into the earth.
She swallowed. She’d always known Jordan possessed a wiry runner’s frame, but she didn’t know he possessed muscles like that. She watched for a moment, seeing him in a new light. Is that how women—Harriet?—had always seen him?
Mr. Knight looked up, then said something to Jordan that made him turn and face her.
Her heart skipped, and she smiled, waving with her free hand. “I’ve brought afternoon tea,” she called as she drew near.
“Seems a bit decadent when we haven’t even had lunch yet.” Graham clapped Jordan on the shoulder. “Someone here slept in.”
“Hi, Jordan.” Her smile faded at the absence of his. “Did you, uh, have a good time in LA?”
He nodded, his gaze straying to the container. “Good enough.”
“Do I spy a sausage roll in there?” Graham asked, peering through the clear lid.
“Freshly made today. Although you might prefer it warmed up.”
“I’m happy to eat them however they come.”
“In that case …” She opened the lid, and the scent of deliciousness drifted out.
Graham helped himself to a sausage roll, and she retrieved a paper napkin and a little squeezy packet of tomato sauce. “I’ve even got tomato sauce.”
“Oh, she comes prepared.”
“Sure does.” Jordan’s voice was flat. He wasn’t animated at all.
“Well, uh, I’ll just leave you two to it,” Graham said, before whistling for Bella and strolling off a little way.
Still, Jordan barely looked at her. What was wrong? She could put it down to tiredness or jet lag. Or perhaps he simply just didn’t want to see her. He still hadn’t taken anything from the container.
“Look, I made sure to bring your favourite.” Jordan didn’t like sweet things too much, but he did enjoy a lemon tart. As did she.
“I’m not too hungry.”
Oh. Her heart dipped. Whoever said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach obviously hadn’t met Jordan. Still, she wouldn’t give up.
“It’s good to see you,” she said softly.
He nodded, finally meeting her gaze for the briefest second, then immediately looking away. But in that second, she’d glimpsed pain and sorrow, and her heart wrenched.
She stepped closer. “Jordan, I had to come see you. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for my behaviour. I’ve treated you so badly, and I’m so sorry.”
His lips parted, like he might be about to say something; then he shook his head.
No? What did that mean? He didn’t believe her? “Really, I am.”
“EJ, I can’t …” He thrust a hand through his hair, tousling the curls that had grown back in recent weeks; then he glanced away, a muscle throbbing in his jaw.
“You can’t what?” She got in his space. “Can’t forgive me?” She blinked back tears. “I’m so sorry.” Her voice broke. “Please? Have a tart.” Maybe that would sweeten him up.
He sighed, and weariness washed across his features. Of course. He didn’t need this from her today. She’d pushed in too hard, too fast, just like she always did. But a lifetime of pushiness was not going to get solved in a week.
She stepped back, placed the container down on the nearby tree stump. “I’m sorry. You’re probably tired still. I … I’ll let you get on with things.”
“EJ—”
“No, seriously, it’s fine. I … I hope you’ll be able to talk to me when you feel like it.”
She swallowed hard then turned away. Waved to Graham as she hurried off.
She couldn’t stop. Had to escape. This was excruciating.
She swiped away tears. Because her worst fears seemed to have come true.
She had broken her friendship with Jordan in two.