Chapter 15
Myra offered Emily her Lincoln Town Car for her meeting with Jenna and Rosemary. The car, still as pristine as it had been when the woman had purchased it in 2011, was a vehicle Myra loved. Which was why Emily assured the older woman that she could bike over to Jenna’s house. Still, Myra had insisted.
Emily had to admit as she parked the car in front of the massive three-story brick and stone Victorian that she appreciated both the gesture and the air conditioning. The day that had started out lovely had turned unseasonably hot.
Lifting her violin case from the passenger seat, Emily wiped suddenly sweaty palms against her dress. She wasn’t sure why she was so on edge.
She knew—and liked—both Jenna and Rosemary, but there was no chance they’d recognize her as Til.
In her heart, Emily knew it wasn’t her friends recognizing her that worried her. She looked totally different—from her age and hair and eye colors, to the five extra inches of height. Not only that, her facial features were different. It was almost as if Serena had known about the blond actress whose strikingly beautiful looks Emily had so admired as a young teen and had given her that face.
No, having her friends recognize her wasn’t the issue. It was that she knew them and missed them both so much. She hoped she’d be able to keep her emotions under control.
Twenty minutes later, Emily began to relax. They’d had lemonade and sugar cookies at the small table in the kitchen. No pretense, nothing fancy, just taking time to become better acquainted.
Most of the discussion so far had involved Rosemary telling her about her courtship with Barry Whitehead. Though it was old news to Emily, she liked seeing the sparkle in Rosemary’s eyes and hearing her vision for the wedding.
“Our vision is to have a simple, but lovely, wedding, surrounded by friends and family.”
That comment had Emily recalling her time at the park with Myra and smiling.
“I guess ‘vision’ is a funny word, isn’t it?” Rosemary said sheepishly.
“It’s not funny at all. It’s lovely. And I promise that if you hire me, I will do my best to make your vision a reality.” Emily spoke quickly, wanting them to know her smile hadn’t had anything to do with the wedding or reception plans. “The reason I smiled is that the word ‘vision’ doesn’t often come up, and yet, this is the second time I’ve heard it recently.”
“Are you playing at another wedding? I guess most brides have a unique vision for their special day.” Jenna’s large brown eyes focused on Emily.
“I’m sure they do, but this had nothing to do with a wedding.” Emily smiled again. “Myra Edwards and I stopped by Maplewood Park recently. We’d heard there might be some renovations coming, and we were curious exactly how much work the park needed.”
“It needs a lot,” Rosemary said with a rueful smile.
“I agree with you there. The committee came up. I said the first goal should be cleanup. Myra disagreed. She said the committee needed to formulate a vision, then determine what improvements or changes are desired and see how they align with community needs and interests,” Emily explained.
Surprise flickered across Rosemary’s face. “Those are really good points.”
Jenna set down her glass of lemonade. “Sounds like Mrs. Edwards has been involved in a park renovation before.”
“Not a park, but a project involving a building on the grounds of Funland,” Emily said.
Rosemary and Jenna exchanged glances.
“She might be someone we should ask to join us when we gather to discuss the project,” Jenna said to Rosemary.
“I agree.” Rosemary turned to Emily. “Can you give me her contact information?”
“I’d be happy to.” Sensing the subject was about to return to the wedding, Emily spoke quickly. “Just for the record, I’d like to help, too.”
“May I ask why?” Confusion furrowed Rosemary’s brow. “Did you know Til?”
“I want to help because I can understand wanting to honor a friend.”
Tears welled in Rosemary’s eyes.
With great effort Emily kept her tone even. “And working to better the community. That park really needs work.”
Rosemary chuckled. “It really does.”
“We’d love your help,” Jenna said, then sighed and glanced down at the sheet in front of her. “For now, let’s get back to the reception.”
“I’m sorry. I should have kept to business.”
“Don’t apologize.” Jenna placed a gentle hand on Emily’s arm. “You’re very easy to talk with.”
Rosemary smiled. “Having you as a part of the reception seems meant to be.”
“Though we trust Annie’s recommendation, before we lock things down,” Jenna’s gaze dropped to the list in front of her before returning to Emily, “would you mind playing a few of the tunes on Rosemary’s list?”
“I’d be happy to.” Pushing back from the table, Emily picked up the case, then opened it, taking out the violin. Once she’d made sure the shoulder pad and chin rest were in the proper positions, she added rosin to the bow. “I also have a few suggestions that I think you might like.”
Rosemary leaned forward and clasped her hands together. “I can’t wait to hear you play.”
Emily started off with Bach’s “Air on the G String,” one of the pieces on Rosemary’s list. She agreed the serene composition was a lovely choice for background music.
The smiles on the two women when the piece drew to a close had Emily moving on to Tchaikovsky’s “Waltz” from Swan Lake.
The women clapped when she finished.
“May I try one that’s not on the list?” Emily asked.
“Yes.” The two spoke at the same time.
Fauré’s “Pavane” was a graceful piece that Emily believed could create the perfect ambience for a garden reception.
She played the piece from memory, and the romantic essence wrapped around her and squeezed her heart.
When she finished, Emily lowered her violin.
“You are an amazing talent.” Rosemary breathed the words. “I’d be honored to have you play at my reception.”
“I’ve never been much of a violin fan,” Jenna admitted. “But I am now.”
“Thank you.”
“So, will you play at my reception?” Rosemary asked, a hopeful gleam in her eyes.
“I’d love to.” Gazing into Rosemary’s deep-set blue eyes, Emily experienced a surge of warmth. “You’re going to be a beautiful bride.”
Rosemary stared at Emily, and for a second, Emily swore she wasn’t the only one who felt the connection. Then the older woman smiled. “I’m very happy you’re going to be there to share my special day.”
After leaving Jenna and Rosemary’s home, Emily couldn’t stop smiling. Talking with the two women in such a relaxed atmosphere had been what she’d dreamed of. She hadn’t been certain exactly how to renew their acquaintance. Her musical prowess had allowed her to gain access to them.
It also appeared she might be able to help with the Maplewood Park renovation.
For a second, Emily wondered if that’s why Serena had blessed her with not only a do-over of her life, but with the gift of music.
No, she decided as she slipped behind the wheel of the Town Car, it must have just happened that way. After all, how could Serena have known that all this would fall into place as it had?
When she parked the car in the garage at Myra’s house and handed the keys to Mrs. Fairfax, she learned that Ken had arrived a half hour earlier and taken his mother out for dinner.
Though Mrs. Fairfax offered to make her something if she was hungry, Emily declined. She had the entire evening open, and she was going to seize the moment.
No matter how enjoyable, today had been all about work.
Tonight, she was going to do something fun. Just for herself.
Emily texted Chloe and Jaclyn. When she got no response, she texted Mackenna, who replied that she already had plans.
Emily considered her options. She could go to a movie. She could grab a coffee or dinner at one of the bistros on the River Walk. She could relax in her room and read.
So many possibilities, but nothing sounded intriguing.
Perhaps if she freshened up and got ready to go out, something would come to her.
After a long, leisurely shower, Emily curled her hair and redid her makeup. Though she had several new dresses calling her name, she chose instead a pair of shorts and a tiny tee that made her feel young and vibrant.
Satisfied with her appearance, she took off on her bike in the direction of the River Walk. She would keep an open mind and knew that something would catch her eye.
That something was booths set up in the town square. The fact that ARTistry in the Park—one of her favorite summer events—started today had totally slipped her mind.
In addition to artists selling fine art, there was photography, handcrafted jewelry and glass art. The food trucks were out in force, as they always were at events that drew these kinds of crowds. The energy in the air wrapped around Emily and told her this was where she needed to be.
After securing her bike to an inverted-U rack, she strolled from tent to tent, inspecting framed photographs of local landscapes and people, functional and decorative pottery items and handblown glassware.
She inhaled the enticing scent of a number of soaps before buying two bars and slipping them into her new backpack. Then she returned to one of the photography tents.
Images captured from old GraceTown caught her eye and had her lingering, flipping through photograph after photograph.
Telling herself to focus on the future, not the past, didn’t work. Going through these vintage photos was like taking a trip into her past. She admired photographs of Funland, a car dealership no longer in business and—her heart gave a solid thump—her father’s hotel, the Magnolia.
Emily’s fingers tightened around the photograph encased in a clear plastic sleeve. She didn’t possess any photographs of the hotel that had burned down several years after her father died. Even if she had, they would have been in her house with the other remnants of her previous life.
With fingers that trembled, Emily removed the photograph from the plastic sleeve. The two-story, ten-room hotel, originally built in the late 1800s, had had an elegant and grand appearance.
With its tall, narrow windows, elaborate cornices and low-pitched roof, the brick structure was representative of the Italianate style of Victorian architecture.
Her father hadn’t been the first owner, of course, but her earliest memories were of “working” alongside him and her mother. After her mother had passed away, she’d done what she could to help him out.
Emily barely recalled the rocky times during the Great Depression that her father had spoken of. She mostly recalled the good times during the war years and after, when business had been brisk, and the hotel had thrived.
As she traced the outline of the structure with the tip of her finger, her heart swelled with emotion.
She returned the photo to its sleeve, then held it in one hand as she continued to look through the other photographs, hoping to find another of the hotel, but she came up empty.
After going back to the one of Funland, she took the two photographs and set them on the counter, then handed the money to the older man working the cash register.
“Anything else?” He offered her such a friendly smile that, for an instant, she wondered if he knew her. Then, almost instantly, she realized that was ridiculous.
He was retirement age, and she was, well, young.
“Just these two,” Emily told him.
“I don’t remember this hotel, but my father does.” The older man seemed inclined to talk since there was no one else in line. “I can’t recall the name right now, but when I showed him the picture, he pointed out exactly where it used to be on the street. It was right next to where the Bijou is now.”
Emily opened her mouth to say his father had it wrong. The Magnolia had been another block down from the Bijou. His father had obviously gotten the hotel confused with another business. She shut her mouth with a snap and simply smiled.
“Would you like these in a sack?” he asked.
“Please.”
“What did you buy?”
As if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, Emily felt her heart jump at the familiar male voice. “Just a couple of old photographs.”
She turned and saw Dalton standing beside Joe Wexman.
“My wife and I love old photographs.” Interest sparked in Joe’s brown eyes. “What are they of?”
Emily lifted the plastic sleeves from the sack and held them out. “One is of Funland, and the other is an old hotel called the Magnolia.”
“That’s it,” the older man behind the desk said. “The Magnolia.”
Joe studied first one photo, then the other. He lifted his gaze. “You have a thing for vintage hotels?”
“I’m interested in a lot of things,” she told him.
“Are the photographs your only purchase so far?” Dalton asked as the three stepped away from the counter to make room for another customer.
“I’ve been tempted.” Emily kept her tone light. “But so far, I’ve resisted. What about you?”
“I let Sophie do the buying.” Joe smiled. “But I’m going to tell her about this booth.”
“Where is your wife?” Emily asked.
“She’s meeting me by Scoops on the Go in about…” Joe glanced at his watch, and his eyes widened. “Now.”
Joe clapped Dalton on the arm and offered Emily a smile. “Great seeing you, Emily. Dalton, see ya, buddy.”
When Emily slanted a curious glance at Dalton, he explained, “Joe and I walked over here from campus. Today was the last day of the first summer session.”
“You should celebrate.”
“Any ideas?”
Emily had a few, but they fled her mind when she spotted Charlie Rogan pushing his mother’s wheelchair while Lisa and her daughter-in-law chattered happily.
Though Lisa’s MS more often necessitated the use of a cane rather than a wheelchair, Emily knew that when a lot of walking was involved, a wheelchair was usually called into service.
Emily’s heart gave a leap as they drew near. It was so incredibly good to see her old friend that she spoke without thinking. “Lisa, it’s good to see you.”
The greeting had already left her lips when Emily realized her mistake.
A puzzled look furrowed Lisa’s brow. “I’m sorry. Have we met?”
With her heart fluttering in her throat like a captured hummingbird, Emily considered, then discarded, various responses, not one of which made the least sense. She felt as if she were drowning, going under for the final time when Hannah spoke.
“Lisa, this is Emily Curtis. She’s the one Charlie and I met at Destiny.”
The confusion fled Lisa’s face. “The one staying with Myra Edwards.”
“I am.” Emily considered how much to elaborate and decided that the less said, the better.
“It’s a pleasure finally putting a face with the name.” Lisa shifted her gaze to Dalton. “How is your grandmother doing?”
“She’s doing well.” Dalton also kept to the basics.
Emily had quickly discovered that the Edwards family preferred to keep their private affairs private.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“It was lovely meeting you,” Emily said. “Hopefully, I’ll be seeing you all again.” Tightening her hold on the small sack, she made her escape.
Under different circumstances, Emily would have loved to stay and talk with Lisa, but seeing the lack of recognition in her friend’s eyes tore at her heart.
They’d once been the closest of friends, and now they were strangers. At that moment, Emily realized that deep down she had assumed—hoped—that her friends would somehow know her, somehow sense her essence lurking beneath the different exterior.
But Rosemary hadn’t, and neither had Lisa. The realization made Emily want to weep.
She was nearly out of earshot when she heard Lisa say, “She seems like a nice young woman. I could see you and her being friends, Hannah.”
Not her and Lisa being friends, but her and Hannah.
She’d been so lucky to have the friends she had, friends who’d kept her active and, well, young at heart.
Emily missed each and every one of them. Despite high hopes, she’d not been able to connect with them in the way she wanted. Which brought her to a hard truth, one she needed to accept—what was lost could not always be regained.