CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN EMBER
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
EMBER
Realization and understanding finally dawns on Harley.
“I was thinking, if we buy the two spaces, we could open it up to be one storefront. We could leave the roastery sectioned off, but not close it off entirely. We could offer tours for those interested in the process.” I can barely contain all the ideas I have running through my head, and Harley sits and listens with a smile plastered on his face.
“I was thinking, everyone who you have graced with your coffee talents has gushed over it. What if we made it a bookstore and a coffee shop?” I finally get to the point.
I wait for him to process, and he looks away, nodding his head to himself. He mumbles to himself a bit before looking back at me. A smile breaks out on his face, and I jump into his arms.
I begin telling him everything about the meeting.
From start to finish. Mrs. Phelps was terrified and heartbroken to meet with me.
She told me how sorry she was for everything that had happened at the bookstore when I was taken.
She couldn’t even look me in the eye as she talked to me, but if I am being honest, we both knew the time was coming for the bookstore to close shop.
We had a small handful of regulars, but it wasn’t enough to keep it up and running.
“I have always dreamed of having my own bookstore,” I tell him. “Black book cases, with space for old authors who still get love, and new authors who need more love and visibility.”
“I want to see if we can wholesale little pastries from the local bakery. Just smaller things to snack on. A space for people to sit and drink their coffee and read their books. Big comfy chairs with a fireplace maybe?” I say excitedly.
“I think that it’s exactly what the town needs, honestly,” he tells me. “Eventually maybe we could add apparel and book accessories.” My heart swells, knowing that this isn’t just my fantasy anymore.
“Let’s go grab some dinner and talk some more,” he says, pulling me up from the couch.
“Let me go clean my face up since I cried all my makeup off,” I tell him before heading into the bathroom.
When I walk into the bathroom, my phone rings in my back pocket, and I take it out, seeing Atlas’s photo across the screen.
I answer it quickly, hoping nothing is wrong.
Asher has been gone for just over a week now, so the girls have been adjusting to time without him.
“Hey, At. What’s going on?” I ask her, waiting for a response, frozen until I know she’s okay.
“Nothing, I was just calling to confirm what time you want me and Peanut to head over Friday to help move?” she says through the phone.
“You can come any time you want, but Harley is picking up the U-Haul at nine in the morning with Chase, and then they’re heading back here, and we’ll start then,” I tell her. “Honestly though, if you don’t want to, we’ll have plenty of help from Harley’s dude group.”
“I’m coming, Ember. You’ve done too much for me to not be there.” A laugh falls from her lips. “Plus, if I’m not needed, we can just stand around and be the managers of the situation.”
I laugh. “You know what? You’re right,” I agree with her. “No, but seriously, any time is fine.” She laughs and then gets quiet again.
“Have you heard from Asher?” I ask her, knowing their communication has been less than stellar.
“I talked to him once the other day, he really only wanted to talk to Peanut,” she says, and I hear the hurt in her voice. Motherfucker.
I have a sneaking suspicion, and every time I get a new update, it feels like we’re moving closer to the confirmation of it. I haven’t vocalized anything, to her or to Harley, because I’m hoping I’m wrong.
“I’m sure he’s got a lot going on during this mission, At. How’s the baby?” I ask her.
“Oh, they’re good. I’m not even far along and I can already see a bump,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. I’m glad she’s excited, despite the surprise and Asher’s attitude towards the pregnancy this time around.
“They always say you get bigger faster the second time around,” I tell her, trying to assure her it’s normal.
“Oh I know, and probably doesn’t help that they’ll be under two years apart.” She laughs, and I know she’s going to be just fine.
Harley walks into the bathroom and leans against the door frame, not seeing that I’m on the phone. “You about ready, princess?” he asks.
“Gross, I’m getting off here now,” Atlas says, audibly cringing at Harley’s pet name for me.
“Hey Atlas! Everything okay?” he asks, checking up on her. Their relationship is so cute. They’re just like siblings.
“Yeah, we’re good, just confirming when I can grace you with my presence on Friday.” she says matter-of-factly.
“You’re pregnant, so you won’t be moving a fucking thing,” he tells her in a stern but light tone.
“You can’t fucking tell me what to do. I’m pregnant, not crippled. I can carry small shit,” she argues. I roll my eyes because they do this about everything. I laugh to myself and finish up before grabbing my phone and walking down the hall.
“We’ll fucking see about that,” Harley follows up.
“Harley, I still carry Aria around, and she’s a solid twenty-one pounds, I can carry some fucking light boxes,” she retaliates. She’s not wrong there, but if she doesn’t have to, she shouldn’t.
“Okay, okay, you can come, and we’ll play it by ear,” I tell them both. “We’re going to go grab some dinner, and we’ll catch you Friday.”
She lets out a huff. “Fine. Love you guys.”
“We love you too!” we sing in unison and hang up.
“She’s so fucking stubborn,” Harley says, grabbing his bike key. “Just like her sister.”
“Hey now, I didn’t do anything to warrant an insult,” I tell him, both playfully and defensively.
I grab the one coat left in the closet by the door, the one just for the bike, and pull it over my shoulders.
Without a second thought, Harley comes over and zips my coat for me.
I watch him zip up the coat, and when it reaches the top of the zipper, he uses his hand to guide my chin up and kisses me softly.
“I love you, even though you’re stubborn and you know it,” he says.
When he pulls the door open, a middle-aged man has his fist raised as if he was about to knock.
“Can I help you?” Harley asks, pulling me behind him with his hand that was holding my own.
“Hi, I’m looking for Ember Alden,” he says, quick and to the point. My stomach drops to the floor, and before I can answer, Harley’s voice cuts into the air.
“What exactly do you need?” he asks apprehensively.
“I have some information about the last will and testament of my client.” He looks between the two of us.
“Who is your client?” Harley asks quickly, and I can tell he’s getting irritated.
“Dean Michaels, sir,” the man answers.
Before Harley can get a word out, I step in front of him. “I don’t want anything from him, respectfully, sir,” I say, about to close the door.
“Ma’am, I did my research, and I understand why you feel that way, but I really think you should listen to what I have to tell you,” he says, quickly continuing as if he knows his time has about run its course here. “There is nothing personal, just a quick reading is all.”
I look up to Harley, who looks from the man to me, and shrugs one shoulder. We allow him inside. He sits on one end of the couch and we stand on the other, waiting to hear what this is about.
“Mr. Michaels, at some point, had a 401K and life insurance policy for himself, and he named you beneficiary, Ms. Alden,” he states, taking a piece of paper out of his binder that’s tucked away in his briefcase.
“The 401K is around twenty thousand dollars, and the life insurance policy is for three hundred thousand.”
My jaw drops. “That can’t be right,” I tell him, arguing. “I didn’t even know he was working anywhere that would offer a 401K.”
“Oh he was, and his employer matched all of his deposits. There was another 401K, but his mother was named the beneficiary for that,” he says, finding another paper and handing it to me.
“I don’t understand,” I tell him. “I thought he was considered a missing person?”
”Yes, he was, up until last week. Apparently, the investigation into his parents house fire was finally buttoned up, and some of his remains were found in the ashes of the site, confirming he was in the home when it burnt down.”
My eyes whip over to Harley so quickly, I feel my neck crack. His face is unreadable.
“So what do I do?” I ask. “I don’t even know that I want anything to do with this,” I tell him, crossing my arms across my chest.
“Unfortunately, if you do nothing, it will all just sit. And if I could give you my opinion?” he asks, waiting for approval to continue, and I nod my head.
“I read the report from the fire, the protection orders, the police report the day you were taken from your place of work. If you were someone I loved, I’d encourage you to take it, and do something that will make your life easier.
Something he could have never done for you while he was alive. ”
I hold his stare, and tears line my eyes. “I guess you’re right, and if I can’t stomach it, I can donate it, right?” I ask, wondering if there are any regulations to this.
“It’s yours to do whatever you like with, Ms. Alden.” He passes me the paperwork I need to follow up with the companies to collect the funds.
“This doesn’t seem real,” I tell him, eyes scanning the paper quickly.
He holds out his hand, offering it to shake, and I quickly throw my hand out and shake it, giving it a firm grip.
He turns to Harley, extending his hand to him as well.
“Thank you so much for allowing me a few moments of your time. Have a good night now, and if you need any help collecting the funds, just pass my name along and I’ll get you taken care of.
” He passes me a business card, and I slide it on top of the papers he gave me already.
He walks out the door, and Harley and I stand in silence, taking all of it in.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” I tell Harley. “But how did this happen?”
The last I was told about Dean was that he was pig food, so how did they find what was needed to deem him dead?
“I guess someone was looking out for you,” he says, pulling me into a hug without another word. Chase.
I run the papers back to the safe in my closet, and we head out finally to grab dinner.
Harley locks the door behind me and heads down the steps to his bike. He throws his leg over and starts the bike. He holds out his hand, offering me assistance to hop on, like he always does.
We settle for street tacos from our favorite food truck in one of the grocery store parking lots. After we place our order, we settle on the picnic table underneath their little pergola. I sit there in silence, feeling the cold and hearing the workers in the truck.
“A penny for your thoughts?” Harley asks me, cutting off my thoughts.
“I was just thinking about what I’d want to do,” I tell him, looking down at the wooden picnic table beneath me. “If I don’t donate it.”
“You do whatever feels right to you, no matter what,” he tells me, reaching his hand across the table, grabbing hold of my own.
“I feel like it's pay-off money for all the bullshit he put me through,” I tell him, finally getting the words out. “It makes me feel dirty,” I say honestly, shrugging my shoulders, and a shiver runs down my spine.
“Don’t you dare feel dirty, Ember Alden,” Harley says, anger laced in his tone. I look up and meet his eyes, surprised that he’s angry. “You did nothing wrong, from the moment you met that sorry excuse of a boy.”
At the mention of a boy, an idea hits my mind. “What if I donated it, but to someone I know?” I ask him.
“What do you mean, like a charity you know?” he questions me.
“Rawley,” I say, a smile spreading across my lips and tears hitting my eyes again. “He could use it for school, or just getting on his feet when he’s older. I’ll have to be honest with Charlee and Theo about it, but I think I should give some of it to them.”
Harley runs a hand through his hair and hangs his head, and I immediately drop my smile and wonder if that’s strange.
“You don’t like that idea? We can figure out something else,” I tell him, regressing a little. I feel like it’s a good idea, but maybe I need to process longer and think on it some more.
“I just can’t believe that you choose me every day,” he says, standing up at the table and bending across it to lift my chin and kiss me. “You’re the most selfless person I know, and I couldn’t love you more.” I smile and kiss him back.