“How’s the other guy look?” Ryder smirked.
“Like I didn’t even touch him.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t even touch him.”
“Oh.” Ryder looked down in disappointment.
Derek wrapped the ice pack in a paper towel and took the bar stool next to his brother. “It’s okay. It was a misunderstanding that has been resolved.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.” Derek clapped Ryder on the back. “It’s good to see you. It’s been a while.”
“Well, you know, ding dong the witch is dead.”
Derek stared at him blankly. “What?”
“You know? Your evil girlfriend?”
“Do you mean Honey?”
“Yeah. She’d never answer the door. She’d just tell me to go away. Cole and Alex said it happened to them too.” At Derek’s look he said, “It’s okay. I just went home to Alex’s instead.” Their brother Alex lived in the house they’d grown up in, so they all defaulted to calling it home.
“I’m sorry,” Derek said. “You should have told me.”
Ryder gave him a half smile. “Nah. You don’t talk bad about your brother’s girlfriend, no matter how stupid he’s being.” Ryder nudged Derek’s shoulder with his own. A lump formed in Derek’s throat as he thought about Ryder and Macey and the baby Ryder thought he’d have that wasn’t going to be.
“I’m sorry. For what happened with Macey and the baby. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you more.”
Ryder nodded, a mature look on his face that Derek didn’t remember seeing before. “You were. And Cole and Alex were. I’m okay.”
“Really?”
He smiled. “I know I’m going to be. And that’s the same thing.” He drummed the counter with his fingertips. “Hey, how about a beer?”
“Sounds good. Get me one too.”
Ryder got up and grabbed two cold ones from the fridge. He passed one to Derek. “So what’s up with the little beauty Cole tells me you’re really in love with?”
“Nothing yet.”
Ryder raised his eyebrows. “This have something to do with that nose?” He gestured toward Derek’s face with his beer bottle.
Derek nodded. “Maybe.”
Ryder smiled knowingly. “If you want my advice, you’ve got to go big.”
“Big?”
“Yeah. Make the grand gesture. Do something that throws the other guy right out of her head for good.”
Derek took a swig of his beer. “Hmm. You might have something there.”
“Of course I do.”
After Ryder left, Derek was still mulling over his brother’s advice. A big gesture. That was more Emma’s department than his. He wasn’t sure he could come up with something that would qualify.
Then he had an idea.
He smiled, sat on his sofa, put his feet up, and pulled out his phone. He searched the internet for the number he wanted then made the call.
∞∞∞
Emma drove her overdressed and shellacked-haired mother home. Or at least, to what used to be home. Jennifer’s ample luggage slid in the back, and Emma worried with every turn that the heavy suitcase would counter-balance and tip the car over on the swing around. She breathed a sigh of relief when they pulled up to her childhood home, wheels still on the pavement. She pulled the car into the driveway and saw the curtains flutter back in place at the front window. Good. Her father was home. The drama could begin.
Emma and her mother unloaded the luggage onto the front step. Technically, Emma carried the suitcase, and her mother fluttered around like a middle-aged Honey making ineffectual hand gestures and suggestions and not actually helping at all. When Emma had the suitcase and her mother’s purse on the front porch, her mother embraced her.
“Good luck.” Emma breathed in Chanel No. 5 and made a wish.
When Emma stepped back, her mother looked uncertain, which made Emma’s heart warm. Her parents might have another shot at this after all. If her mother was willing to be humble and give a little bit, well, she might still be worth getting. She hoped her father would see her mother’s new vulnerability and give her a chance. She was willing to bet he’d never stopped loving her. Emma turned to go back to her car when she caught sight of her father, framed front and center in the bay window with the curtains thrown wide.
“What are you doing?” His voice was muffled by the glass, but the meaning was clear. Her mother whipped around and pinned him with her eyes. He shrank back but did not release his hold on the drapes.
“You can’t come in!” He leaned toward her, glowering.
Jennifer blinked at him. “Okay.” She sat down on the top step and draped her thin arms across her knees. Jason stood on tiptoes to peer down at her.
“What are you doing?” he repeated, this time directed at his wife.
She yelled over her shoulder. “I’m waiting out here until you let me in.”
“I’m never letting you in!”
“Then I’ll wait forever.”
“You will!”
“I will.”
“All right then!” Emma’s father dropped the drapes. Emma would have thought that he’d taken the hard line for once in his life…until she saw the curtains twitch again. Oh, he was watching. He just didn’t want Jennifer to know he was watching.
Emma rolled her eyes. “Well, Mom, I’m off.”
Her mother held her arms out, and Emma bent and hugged her. “Thank you, Emma. Thank you for letting me stay with you. And for your help.” She gestured in the direction of her father’s viewing window.
“He’s still watching you, you know.”
Jennifer smiled. “I know. Don’t you worry about me. I haven’t forgotten how to get your father to fall in love with me.” She bounced her stiletto heels up and down, clicking on the step, and threw Emma a big smile.
Things were going to be okay for her parents.
Emma waved at her mom with a lightened heart and got into her car. She’d barely put her seatbelt on when her phone rang. It was her father. Of course.
“Where are you going?” His voice was an urgent whisper, and if she squinted she could see him at his big window, leaning in from the side, looking at her. She waved to him and backed out of his driveway.
“I’m going home, Dad.”
“But your mother’s still here.”
“I know—she asked me to drive her there.”
“But you know I’m not going to let her in. I changed the locks. She can’t get in.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, she can’t get in.”
“You’re not being very mature, Emma. Your mother is sitting on the front porch, locked out of the house.”
Emma giggled. “I’m not being mature? Okay.”
Her father blew out a breath. “She can’t just sit there.”
“I think she can. I think she’s half owner in the property.”
“No, she walked away from me and this property.” Emma could hear Baxter yipping in the background.
“Give my love to my brother!” She disconnected the call. The phone rang again a second later.
“Emma, I think we got cut off,” her father said in a rush.
“Okay.” She drove home slowly, admiring the thickness of the green trees lining either side of the road. She liked how roads and shops and houses were surprises, obscured by vegetation until you were right on top of them. It was so Georgia.
“Well, aren’t you going to come take your mother back with you?”
“Nope.”
“She can’t stay here.”
“Okay, I understand completely.” Emma’s tone was rich with sympathy. “Go tell her that.” Emma disconnected the call. When it rang again immediately, she ignored it. Her parents would have to figure out their marriage on their own.
Emma had her own love life to fix.
∞∞∞
Emma didn’t hear anything from either of her par
ents that night. She had fleeting thoughts about calling one or both of them, but she held her ground and resisted checking in on either of them. She didn’t hear from them on Sunday, either, and hoped that meant Dad had at least let Mom sleep indoors. Especially since it rained.
Monday at work she couldn’t avoid Cam. They’d been assigned—together—the new Earth Drinks display at the Wellington’s flagship store, and their design and marketing proposal were due on Thursday. She’d have to work with him.
When she approached Cam’s closed office door, she could hear the sound of stifled sobs behind it. Had she pushed him over the edge? He could be one step from suicide. Maybe she should tell him she’d be with him. She’d have to, if it would save his life.
Emma threw the door open and the shocked—and, until a second before, laughing—faces of Cam and Suellen went wide-eyed at her intrusion and probably also the fact that Suellen was sitting in Cam’s lap with her arms wrapped around his neck.
“Umm, sorry.” She turned her head and studied the wood grain of the door she couldn’t seem to let go of.
Fortunately Cam seemed as uncomfortable as she was.
“Emma! Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.” He spoke in a rush. Suellen untangled herself and got off his lap. When she rounded the edge of the desk, her eyes darted to Emma’s face.
“Emma, I’m sorry.”
Emma smiled, a lightness filling her chest. Impulsively she reached out and hugged her. “You don’t need to be sorry.” She squeezed her hand. “You probably saved his life.”
“What?” Suellen’s brows drew together.
“Just go with it,” Emma told her while pushing her gently into the hallway. “Go.”
Emma closed the door behind her and turned to face Cam, arms crossed. He made as if to rise from behind his desk but thought better of it and parked his butt in his seat again.
“Emma…I know it’s not exactly professional…” he waved vaguely toward the closed door and Suellen’s retreat and then gathered his machismo to him. “But you’re the one who broke up with me. You can’t have it both ways where you tell me who to date after dumping me and breaking my heart.”
Emma felt her face split into an all-encompassing grin. “I’m not.”
Cam cocked a doubting eyebrow at her.
“No, really, I’m not. I’m happy for you.” She gave him a hug, too, but stepped back quickly when he tried to prolong it. She slugged him lightly on the shoulder. “Things are working out exactly as they should be. And I won’t have to find a girlfriend for you myself.”
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m just so happy for you.”
Relief washed over Cam’s features, and he met her smile with his own. “I know it’s soon, Em, but I feel happy. Suellen and I just clicked. Being with you, being with Honey, well, don’t take this the wrong way, but it was hard. I’m interested in Suellen, and she’s interested in me. Simple. I don’t feel like crying.”
“I’m so glad, Cam. Really I am. And I’m glad we’re in a place where we can go back to being friends. Now can we get down to what I really came in here to talk about? The Wellington project. Let’s go.”
∞∞∞
When Emma got home from work, she found her dad’s car parked at the curb in front of her house.
Had her father abandoned the house rather than deal with her mother? A pebble of foreboding dropped into her stomach with her next thought. Her dad didn’t think it was his turn to move in with her, did he?
But when she walked up the front path, she stopped short to see her mother, father, and Baxter all on her porch. Her parents laughed at the look of shock on her face.
“Close your mouth, dear,” her mother said with a twinkle in her eye. Baxter yipped and trotted down the path toward her, asking to be petted. She bent down and obliged him, scratching his belly and rubbing her hands through his furry coat.
“So are you all moving in?” She hoped she was joking.
Her father laughed. “No, sweetie, but we were hoping you’d watch Baxter for us while we went away. Together.” He grasped her mother’s hand and pulled it toward him. He kissed it tenderly and held it to his cheek, closing his eyes. Her mother looked at him lovingly then turned to Emma.
“He’s taking me to Paris. You know how much I’ve always wanted to go.”
“You’re going to Paris? When?”
“We’ll leave here in about an hour. We thought we’d hang around a little to give Baxter time to get acclimated to your house.” Her mother petted Baxter with her free hand.
“I can’t believe you’re taking off to Paris together. Today. Saturday you weren’t even speaking to each other.
“When you’ve been married as long as we have—” her mother started.
“It’s better now—” her father said at the same time. They laughed, looking at each other like lovesick teenagers. Emma rolled her eyes. Sure, she was happy for her parents. This was the outcome she’d been wishing for. But it made her realize how much she wanted to be with the person she loved.
Emma jingled her keys in her hand. “Okay, well, come on in, let’s get Baxter acclimated.” She unlocked the door and shepherded her family inside. She turned on lights, and her mother handed her Baxter’s bag containing his food, water bowls, and treats. “You’ll have to buy more, of course,” her mother told her, “since we don’t know when we’ll be back.”
Emma stopped mid-stride. “You don’t know when you’ll be back?”
Her father walked up behind her mother and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her around the middle. Her mom leaned into the hug and closed her eyes. Emma shook her head. A lot had changed in twenty-four hours.
“We want to be free to extend our trip, see other countries while we’re over there.” At Emma’s alarmed look he added, “We bought an international plan for our phones. You’ll be able to reach us if you or your brother has a problem.” He nodded to Baxter. “Who’s my good boy?” he crooned at him without letting go of her mother. Was he afraid she’d float away if he were to release her?
“And this will give you time alone to get to know each other better,” her mother added. “Your father and I have wished you two were closer.”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll get closer.” She’d be scooping Baxter’s poop. They were going to get a whole lot closer than she wanted to be.
As if he were obeying his parents, Baxter trotted over to Emma and licked her hand.
“Awww!” Her parents practically sang in harmony.
“You guys are going to do just great.” Her mother bent to Baxter and gave him some attention for being kind to his “sister.”
Emma was distracted by the rumble of a large truck pulling up in front of her house. She pulled the cord to the blinds to get a better look. The van was from Taste of Heaven, the bakery that was supposed to make the wedding cake for her fake wedding.
Oh no. Had she not canceled the cake? Of all the stupid things! Good Lord! Were they delivering the thing to her house? That was going to be tons of money and tons of cake all for nothing. How could she have forgotten that? Why hadn’t she called and canceled? But the order had been for June. It was months early.
Emma watched in horror as Jim and Trudy unloaded several large boxes and teetered their way up her front walk.
“What’s all this about?” her mother asked as she spied through the window, holding Baxter in her arms.
Emma didn’t answer and instead ran to the door to head off the baking coterie. She opened the door for them. “I’m sorry. There’s been a mistake.”
Trudy beamed at her. “No mistake, dahling. We’ve got it all under control. We’ll set up right over here and be out of your way.” She barged through the door as if Emma weren’t even there.
“No, seriously, I’m sorry, but I can’t have this cake. I’m not getting married anymore.”
“Anymore?” her parents asked in unison.
“How many times have you gotten married?” her mother gasped, fan
ning herself with her free hand.
“None!”
Her mom breathed a sigh of relief, but her father caught on. “You were getting married? And you called it off?”
“Yeah, well, sort of.” She shrugged.
“You were getting married, and you didn’t bother to tell your parents?” Her mother’s righteous indignation was pitch perfect.
“You guys have been pretty busy.” And have kept me busy with your nonsense, she didn’t say. “I told my brother, though.” She looked down at Baxter. “He didn’t tell you?” She smiled pertly and went to help Trudy.
“Really, you don’t have to do this,” Emma told the woman. “I’ll pay you what I owe you, but I don’t need the wedding cake, really.”
Trudy smiled, sphinxlike. “Oh, don’t worry. The bill has already been paid.”
She and Jim finished setting up what looked to be all but the final layer. Four twisting, rose-wrapped columns protruded from the highest level of the chocolate ganache-filled castle. “Now where’s the top?” She looked around and behind her then went to the front door which had been left partially ajar. She put her hand on the doorknob and leaned out the door. “Did I drop it?”
Emma shuddered to think of the bugs that a demolished layer of chocolate heaven would draw to her door. Not to mention the waste of deliciousness. Didn’t those things last for a year in the freezer? Emma seemed to remember a saying about freezing the top layer of wedding cake to eat with your spouse on your first anniversary. A nice tradition, though she didn’t think she’d be able to go a whole year knowing there was a layer of cake just waiting to be eaten.
“Oh there it is!” the baker called. Emma expected her to dart out of the house to go scrape cake off the concrete, but instead she threw the door wide, and the most handsome man Emma had ever seen filled the frame, holding the top layer of the cake.
Emma’s breath caught when she realized that gorgeous man in the tuxedo was Derek. Her heart stuttered and liquid sunshine ran through her veins. Derek was here. For her. She wanted to run into his arms and kiss him senseless, and she would have, too, if he hadn’t been holding their freaking wedding cake in his hands.
Keeping the Pieces Page 26