Chapter Twenty #2
“Hmm?” Emily looked up from a printout she was meticulously highlighting.
“All-hands,” I repeated. “You have more employees than just me, right?” And I wasn’t even an employee. I was a part-timer, a limited-time engagement whose time was running out.
“Oh.” She went back to her printout. “Of course. I have two high school kids starting in a couple weeks, once school starts.”
“That’s it?” I would have put my hands on my hips, but I didn’t trust my balance on this ladder. “You need some adults around here.”
“I do.” She said the words absently, then blinked and looked up at me. “I really do.” Now she sounded like she’d just woken up and had heard me. “Speaking of jobs, what’s up with you? You hear back from that place in New York yet?”
I shook my head. “The interview was only a few days ago,” I reminded her. “I’m sure they need time to make a decision.”
“You know…” Emily’s voice sounded elaborately casual.
“When I first started working here, back when Chris owned it, I was her right-hand man. She taught me everything—how to open and close the store and deal with special orders. Ordering from distributors, taking in used stock. So I could run things if she wasn’t here.
” She turned the page on her printout, using the tip of her blue highlighter to scan the page.
“Since she sold the store to me, I’ve been getting by with a few part-time employees, which is fine.
But I don’t have an Emily of my very own. And I really need one.”
I nodded carefully. I’d been nodding the whole time she’d been speaking, mentally checking off how everything Chris had taught her were things Emily had taught me too. Something in my chest tightened; I was pretty sure where she was going with this, but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
“The pay isn’t outstanding,” she said, really selling me on the idea.
“I’ll be the first to admit that. But we do have health insurance, and this isn’t a high-cost-of-living area.
I don’t know how much you’ve been downtown this summer, outside of here, but they finally renovated that old hotel down the street, from the turn of the century—the one that’s been boarded up for ages?
Turned it into these really cute apartments.
Rent’s real cheap, especially for the studios. So there’s that.”
“There’s that,” I echoed. The mental picture came into my mind in an instant—my studio apartment in the turn-of-the-century hotel.
I knew how I’d decorate the kitchen, the kind of curtain I would hang to separate the bed from the rest of the place.
I was already mentally moved in, while I hadn’t even started thinking about where I might live in New York.
“I don’t know what kind of life you’re after…” Emily said, and I had to laugh at that.
“I don’t, either,” I admitted.
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with staying where you’re known, and you’re loved. With people who have your back. And I would love it if you stayed, Caitlin. So would your mom.”
“Yeah?” I hadn’t thought about it like that. Mom had Mitch now, so it wasn’t like she was sitting around in the dark pining for her kid who grew up and moved away. But it had been nice, being home these past few weeks. And she didn’t seem in a hurry for me to go.
Emily nodded. “Not to mention, there’s the Faire every summer. Simon was just telling me the other night that he wished you didn’t have to go. That no matter who we could get to wear the dress, we weren’t going to find a better Queen than you.”
“He said that?” I was stunned. Simon was picky when it came to the Faire. For him to embrace change, to embrace me, like that…I couldn’t think of a better compliment.
“I know it’s not a fancy job in New York, but…” Emily’s shrug was elaborately casual as she went back to her printout. “It’s something to think about. A life here isn’t so bad. You could be my Emily. And our Queen.”
I could, couldn’t I?
I turned back to the bookshelf in front of me; I watched my hand pick up the dust rag as though it were someone else doing it. My whole worldview had changed in the three minutes since I’d put it down. I had a lot to think about.
My phone buzzed in my pocket on the way home. A photo of the woods, now mostly bare of its renaissance faire trappings. And a text from Alex: I have died. Your stepdad has supervised me to death and I will haunt these woods for eternity.
I snorted while I typed a response. Still not my stepdad.
But sorry to hear about your passing. You will be missed.
I lingered on the photo after I hit Send.
The set was officially struck and put away, ready for its long winter’s nap until next year’s group of volunteers took it out of storage for the next season.
It was time for everyone to get back to real life.
Including me. Including Alex. Despite our half-hearted plans to stay in touch, to visit, I knew those visits wouldn’t happen.
Maybe one or two, but do long-distance relationships really work out?
No, Alex was right. We were perpetually doomed by bad timing.
The house was quiet when I got home, but there was a note on the kitchen island from Mom. She and Mitch were out to dinner, celebrating both the end of summer and Mitch’s birthday. Dammit, I’d forgotten again. I made a mental note to get him a card.
I tossed my phone onto the island next to the note, feeling restless even as I surveyed the fridge. Everything felt like a transition; it was the waning days of summer, and everyone was looking ahead to the fall. To the future.
Everyone except me. To me, the future wasn’t exciting. It just felt like the end.
My phone buzzed and I grabbed for it, expecting a text from Alex. But it was an email notification, and my heart gave a singular thud, my hand shaking as I opened the message.
…Pleased to offer you the position…starting salary of…Please reply at your earliest convenience…look forward to working with you.
I pressed the phone to my chest. New York. This was it. At the beginning of the summer, this would have been everything I’d wanted. It was time. Let’s go.
Be my Emily. My aunt’s voice rang in my mind. Be our Queen.
I knew which choice I should make, and the choice I wanted to make. Problem was, they weren’t the same.
I switched over to my texts and tapped out a message to Alex.
Wanna stall a little more with me tomorrow? I have a terrible idea…