Chapter 17
17
Emma gulped.
The final car repair bill was even higher than she’d expected.
To make matters worse, not only was she still jobless, she’d run out of places to look for work in Hope Harbor.
As soon as she had her wheels back, she’d have to expand her search.
“I’m sorry about the cost, Ms. Blair.” Marv’s gravelly voice came over the line, his tone apologetic. “The parts were on the pricey side, and that gasket gave me fits. The whole job took longer than I expected. But I’ll have her finished by close of business today.”
“Thanks. I’ll come by later to pick it up.”
As she ended the call, Emma sank onto the couch in Bren’s cottage.
Despite her hostess’s generous offer to loan her the car repair money, she couldn’t accept. The woman had done too much for her as it was.
Nor could she go to Father Murphy for help, despite the assistance he’d offered during their chat in the meditation garden after Mass three days ago. As it was, she’d accepted more charity in the past few days than she’d taken in her whole life.
So she’d have to pay the car bill by credit card and hope she could reduce the balance before too much interest accrued.
But that was a worry for another day. Right now, she needed to pack her bag and be ready to leave as soon as she picked up her car. Imposing on Bren any further would be wrong—no matter how much more comfortable the sofa sleeper in the cottage was than a reclined seat in her car at a rest stop.
After pushing herself to her feet, she trudged down the hall, gathered up her toiletries in the bathroom, and tucked the clothing items she’d taken out of her suitcase back inside.
She also owed Justin a call, but that could wait too. It was getting harder and harder to maintain an upbeat attitude and reassure him they’d be together again soon.
As she finished packing and zipped the suitcase shut, the front door opened. Closed.
“Emma? Are you here?”
Bren was back from her shift at The Perfect Blend.
“Yes. I’ll be out in a sec.” She picked up her bag, leaned the luggage rack against the wall, and walked down the hall.
“I got us brownies at Sweet Dreams.” Bren’s words were muffled as she leaned into the fridge and motioned behind her, toward a white bag on the counter that separated the kitchen space from the living room. “While I was there, Alice—” Her gaze fell on the suitcase as she swiveled around. “What’s going on?”
“I have to leave, Bren.” Emma swallowed past the catch in her voice. “I’ve tried everywhere in Hope Harbor, and there isn’t a job to be had. I can’t stay here forever, and Marv said my car will be ready later today.” She continued to the door and lowered her suitcase to the floor.
Bren circled the counter, furrows etched on her brow. Pulled out a stool. “Why don’t we sit for a minute?”
“Please don’t try to convince me to stay. It wouldn’t take much to make me cave, and I’ve invaded your turf longer than I should have.” She gripped her hands in front of her.
“It’s not my turf. It’s Fred’s. I’m a temporary resident. And since he was kind enough to offer it to me, it seems fair that I share my bounty with someone else who’s in a tight spot.”
“I appreciate that more than I can say, but Mom taught me never to take advantage of people.”
Bren studied her. “Have you talked to your mom about your situation?” Her manner was cautious, as if she suspected she was treading into a sensitive area.
“No. She died six months ago.”
The other woman’s features softened. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too. We were super close. I miss her every single day.”
“Do you have any other family?”
“One brother. He just turned sixteen. I’m going to apply for guardianship as soon as I get settled.”
Bren’s eyebrows rose. “Who is he with now?”
“Our stepdad.”
“And your stepfather would be willing to turn responsibility for him over to you?”
“More than. He only took me and Justin because we came with Mom, and he wanted her . At least in the beginning.” She swallowed past the bitterness souring her tongue.
After scrutinizing her, Bren patted the adjacent stool. “Please. Sit with me for a few minutes?”
Emma hesitated—but not for long. Despite their short acquaintance, Bren had become a better friend than Denise had ever been.
Slowly she crossed the room and slid onto the stool.
Bren angled toward her, elbow on the counter, sympathy radiating from her. “Is your stepdad why you left?”
“Yes. I waited until I was legal age, then took off. I couldn’t stand being in the same house with him. More so after he hooked up with someone else when Mom got cancer.”
Bren’s expression hardened. “He cheated on her?”
“Yes.” Thinking about his infidelity still made her sick to her stomach. “And he didn’t hide it from me and my brother. We tried to shield Mom from the truth, though. With all she was going through, she didn’t need to deal with that too. In the end, when she was in hospice and slipping away, it was my brother and me who took turns sitting with her. My stepfather wasn’t even there when she died.” She choked on the last word. Blinked to clear her vision.
“I’m so sorry.” Bren pulled a tissue from her pocket. Handed it over.
“Thanks.” Emma swiped at her nose. “I walked out on my eighteenth birthday. The hardest part was leaving Justin behind.”
“It sounds like you two are tight.”
“We are.”
“Did you think about staying closer to Nebraska? That way you would have been able to visit in person until you could get guardianship.” Bren’s inflection was casual. Her intent gaze wasn’t.
“Yes. I hate to be this far from him, but I ... I had to leave.”
Bren linked her fingers. “I’m getting the feeling there was a serious reason for that. More than your stepdad’s philandering.”
It wasn’t a question, but the comment invited confidences.
Emma bit her lip.
She’d already divulged more to Bren than she’d ever planned to tell anyone. Should she reveal more?
Maybe.
Because she could trust this woman who’d given her refuge at her lowest point, when she hadn’t known where to turn. And perhaps exposing the bad memories to the light would rob them of their power to fuel the nightmares that could sometimes awaken her in a cold sweat.
She ran a finger down the edge of the bag from Sweet Dreams. Caught a whiff of rich, chocolaty goodness as the crimped top slightly unfurled.
In truth, goodness abounded in this room, emanating also from the woman sitting beside her, who lived the Golden Rule.
As the silence lengthened, Bren slid off her stool. “If you’d like to have your brownie now, feel free. I’ll get you a plate.”
“No.” Emma touched her arm. Filled her lungs. “What I’d like to do is tell you why I left Nebraska as soon as I could.”
Bren sank back onto her stool. Waited.
“You were right. It was more than my stepfather’s cheating. It was also ... it was how he was with me.”
A muscle beside Bren’s eye twitched. “I’m not liking the sound of that.”
“I know what you’re thinking, but he never molested me—or did anything illegal.” She fisted her hands. Tight. “But I ... I always thought he might. From the time I was about twelve, he started looking at me ... different. And he always found ways to invade my personal space. To touch me. In the hall when we passed, while I was doing the dishes or weeding Mom’s garden, during my trips out to the trash cans in the garage. It was uncomfortable and ... and scary.” A shiver rippled through her.
“Did you tell anyone?”
“No. I didn’t want to hurt Mom or force her to choose between me and him.”
“And this continued until you left?”
“To some degree. It was less of a problem after Mom got cancer and he found other women to take her place. I don’t think his current affair is the first time he cheated on her.”
“And your mom never had a clue?”
“If she did, she never let on. She wouldn’t have wanted to risk rocking the boat.” Emma flexed her fingers. Stared down at the indentations left in her palm by her fingernails. “After my dad died, we lost everything. He had debts Mom didn’t know about, so she got two jobs to help pay them off, one as a server at a higher-end restaurant. That’s where she met my stepfather. She always said it was her lucky day when he walked in, but it wasn’t. For her or for me. Except it did take away her money problems.”
“But added others.”
“Yes.” She took a shaky breath. “I tried never to be alone with him, but it’s hard to be on edge 24/7, you know?”
Bren’s mouth thinned. “Yes, I do—and I can understand why you’d want to put as much distance as possible between the two of you. I’m sorry you had to leave your brother behind for a while.”
“Me too. But I’m going to do everything I can to get him out here with me as fast as I can.”
Bren leaned forward. Touched her arm. “Do me a favor, okay?”
“I will if I can.”
“Stay until you find a job. I’m sure there’s one out there for you. If not here, then in Bandon or Coos Bay. And once you have a job, we’ll find you a permanent place to live. There are reasonably priced units at Sea Haven Apartments on the north side of town. Please don’t go yet.”
Emma swallowed. “You make it seem like I’d be doing you a favor if I stay.”
“You would be. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. I also don’t want to have to worry about you sleeping in your car—or a homeless shelter—to conserve cash. I know how hard it can be when money is tight, and it’s worse if a big bill slaps you in the face.”
There was nothing in Bren’s demeanor or tone to suggest she was growing tired of sharing her space with an interloper.
Emma’s resolve began to waver.
And she knew what Father Murphy would counsel. His reminder on Sunday in the meditation garden, after she’d confessed to feeling guilty about taking advantage of Bren, replayed in her mind.
“ Generosity often reaps benefits for the giver as much as the receiver.”
She exhaled slowly, some of the tension in her shoulders dissolving.
It seemed she wasn’t going to be leaving after all.
“If you’re sure about this, I guess I could stay a few more days.”
“I couldn’t be more sure.” Bren leaned over and gave her a quick hug. “I’d say this calls for a celebration—and I have the perfect treat.” She tapped the white bag on the counter. “Oh, that reminds me. While I was at Sweet Dreams picking these up, Alice asked me to tell you she’d like you to drop by tomorrow afternoon before three, if you could. She said the two of you had a nice chat the other day.”
Curious that the bakery co-owner would want to see her.
“Yes, we did. But it was brief. Did she say what she wanted?”
“No.” Bren slipped off the stool.
“It’s not a job, I know that. I asked about one while I was there. She told me Sweet Dreams is a two-person show.”
“Yep. Always has been, from what I’ve heard. I honestly don’t think there’d be space in the back room for more than one baker, from the peeks of it I’ve gotten. And the front isn’t too spacious, either. But the clientele is loyal. The shop does a land-office business on brownies and cinnamon rolls alone.”
“That’s what Alice said. The place is a little ... dingy ... though.”
“I agree the décor would benefit from an update, but as long as they keep baking brownies, I’ll be a customer for life.” Bren grinned and picked up the bag. “Why don’t you put your suitcase in the hall again while I plate these?”
“Okay. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She retrieved her bag from beside the door as Bren circled around to the kitchen, then retraced her steps down the hall.
So much for her resolve to leave before the other woman’s hospitality ran out.
Yet in all honesty, she wasn’t sorry her hostess had managed to convince her to stay. This tiny cottage felt more like home than the house she’d spent the past dozen years living in.
She set her suitcase back on the luggage rack, spirits ticking up.
Maybe her funds were running low. Maybe a job had yet to materialize. Maybe her permanent housing solution was still on the horizon.
But today ... and for however long it took to find lucrative work and establish a permanent address ... she’d adopt an attitude of gratitude. Because if her car had to die, it couldn’t have picked a better place than Hope Harbor.
As for Alice’s request that she stop by?
Perhaps the woman had a lead for her on a bakery job somewhere.
One could hope, anyway.
Especially in a town that incorporated that very word into its name.