Chapter 8 Jason
JASON
Afew days later, Aunt Ophelia pulled up to the diner just before noon in her gray sedan.
The sight of it twisted my stomach like I’d swallowed a handful of thumbtacks.
She parked straight, turned off the engine, and stepped out with purpose.
Clean linen blazer. Practical shoes. A small tin in her hand, wrapped in wax paper.
I stood behind the counter, stiff as a fence post. Rolled my shoulders once. Twice. Didn’t help. I adjusted the napkin dispensers. Then adjusted them again.
Emily caught me in the act. “You need to breathe,” she said.
“I’ll breathe when she leaves.”
We had prepped all morning. Notes scattered across the prep counter like war plans. We had practiced our story until it came out smooth. High school sweethearts. Time apart. Reconnected when she moved back. Not too cute. Not too tragic. Believable. That was the goal.
The bell rang.
Aunt Ophelia stepped in and let out a breath that sounded like polite judgment. She crossed the room like she owned the floor beneath her and handed me the tin.
“Rosemary shortbread,” she said, then kissed my cheek. “You’ve lost weight. You always do when you’re stressed.”
I didn’t respond. Emily tensed beside me.
Aunt Ophelia turned to her. Calm eyes. Measuring. “You must be the reason for the smile I keep hearing about.”
Emily gave her a professional smile. “I try.”
We slid into a booth by the window. I poured coffee. Mrs. Dalrymple sat two booths over, eyeing us with full interest and no shame.
Aunt Ophelia frowned. “I thought you told me last week you weren’t dating anyone. This feels… fast.”
I fidgeted. “I wasn’t ready to tell you yet.”
She studied him for a long moment, clearly unconvinced. Then she nodded once. “Okay.”
Aunt Ophelia stirred her coffee with slow circles. “So. What’s your story, Emily? How’d you two meet?”
“We used to date. In high school.”
Aunt Ophelia raised her eyebrows. “Wait. You’re that Emily Carter?”
Emily nodded. “Guilty as charged.”
“The one who broke his heart and took off for New York City?”
I opened my mouth. “It wasn’t her fault. We both wanted different things.”
Aunt Ophelia waved that away. “Okay. Whatever. Why are you here? What happened to the glamorous city life?”
Emily sighed. “I lost my job. Moved back home. Looking for new opportunities.”
Aunt Ophelia sipped her coffee. “And how did you meet up again?”
Emily paused. “We ran into each other at the farmer’s market. By the tomato stand.”
“She dropped a basket of radishes,” I said.
Aunt Ophelia’s mouth twitched. “Romantic. What do you two do for fun?”
“We went to the movies last weekend,” Emily said.
I nodded. “Together.”
Aunt Ophelia glanced up. “Which one?”
“The new Marvel one,” I said.
“Oh, I love those,” she said, then paused. “Except… that hasn’t come out.”
Emily jumped in. “We watched the trailer. On the couch. In the dark. I cried.”
I turned and looked at her.
“It was very emotional,” she said.
Aunt Ophelia leaned back. “So. I hear you’re the new marketing manager. Are you going to rip up my diner and turn it into some kind of… Instagram mess?”
Emily met her gaze. “Actually, I’m planning a campaign that keeps the history and soul of the diner intact, while drawing in more customers.”
“She has a great idea for the website,” I said. “Cleaner layout. Up-to-date menu. Easy for people to find hours and specials.”
Aunt Ophelia narrowed her eyes. “So everything old gets thrown out?”
“Not at all,” Emily said. “I want to feature you. A whole section of the site with your story, the roots of the diner, and what makes this place matter. The Lighthouse Diner is part of Chrysanthemum Cove. It has a soul. Throwing that away would be a mistake.”
Aunt Ophelia tilted her head.
Emily continued. “And honestly, if we erased all that history, we’d lose your regulars. But if we showcase the history? That’s gold. Even city folks love that. Especially in the fall. Leaf peeping season brings in tons of tourists. We should be ready by then.”
Aunt Ophelia looked at her, quiet for a beat. Then she nodded. “You make very good points.”
She shifted in her seat. “But how do I know you’re not going to leave again? You already left Jason once.”
Emily didn’t look away. “Things are different this time. I thought I knew what I wanted the last time. I thought I had to. But there are things I missed. Things I didn’t even know I missed until I came back.
You can change your city. You can chase something shiny.
But sometimes… the heart knows where it belongs. ”
The table stayed quiet. The clink of forks and the soft murmur of other booths moved around us.
Aunt Ophelia pursed her lips, let out a long exhale, then gave a small nod. Just once.