Em (The Summer My Life Began Book 1)

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Em (The Summer My Life Began Book 1) Page 6

by Shannon Greenland


  “I wonder if they have fresh lemongrass at this farmers’ market,” I say. “Also, I need to know my budget and how many people to expect.”

  Domino laughs. “We’ll get to that. First, plan on making me the meal beforehand so I can approve it.”

  “Sounds good. I have a lot of work to do. I need to research white-wine reduction sauces and do some trial runs on oils to seal in the moisture of the fish. I might be up all night.” Excitement dances around inside of me as I think of it all.

  Frederick grabs a brownie from the same plate Cade had. “Well, I was going to challenge you to a game of chess, but clearly you’re preoccupied.”

  I give him a sorry look. “Rain check?”

  “Sure.”

  “You’re terribly cute when you’re focused,” Tilly teases.

  I glance at Cade, and he smiles as he takes another brownie bite. “Sounds like you’re going to be very busy.”

  “Sounds like.” Maybe it’s my imagination, but he seems a little bummed at that.

  Beth heads toward the door. “Later, everybody. Cade, when you get a chance, I need help moving furniture.”

  He follows Beth out the door, and Aunt Tilly turns to me. “So, how was sightseeing? What did you guys do?”

  “Oh, it was fun.” I recap everything we did from the marina to the hilltop to visiting downtown. “By the way, who is Sid?”

  The whole kitchen falls quiet. Frederick looks at Domino, who glances at Aunt Tilly, who slowly reaches for a brownie of her own.

  She clears her throat. “You met Sid?”

  I look between them all, more than curious what’s going on. “I asked Frederick, but he won’t give me the scoop.”

  With a sigh, Tilly places her brownie back down. “Sid is Cade’s dad. He’s been off the grid for over a year. But I guess he’s back.”

  Chapter 12

  A little bit before sunset, Aunt Tilly and I each grab a bike and pedal to a nearby beach. I’ve thought a lot about Sid and Cade since learning about them earlier today. But my biggest question: what kept Sid away for more than a year?

  I can’t imagine my dad taking off for that long. Missing. Other than an occasional business trip, he’s usually around.

  “Biking has always been one of my favorite things to do,” my aunt says, jarring me from my thoughts. She gets off her bike to walk it through thick sand. “Your mom and I used to ride bikes together a lot when we were younger.”

  “Mom used to ride a bike?” I take my flip-flops off and toss them in my basket, excited she brought up family. “I find that hard to believe. I can’t imagine Mom doing anything except work.”

  Aunt Tilly sighs. “I know. Things change over time.”

  “Did you and my mom do a lot of things together?”

  When we reach packed sand, Aunt Tilly climbs back on her bike. “We did. You know, there’re ten years between us, so we had our own set of friends and all that. But Kat was always so good about letting me tag along.”

  “Really?” I can’t see my mom being so nice. I climb back on, too, and side-by-side we pedal down the beach. “Did you just call her Kat?”

  “It was always Kat when we were young, but when she got older, she went by Katherine. She’s the one who started calling me Tilly.” With the setting sun, Tilly props her sunglasses on top of her head. “She used to get me ready for school in the morning. She’d brush my hair. I had such long hair, she’d curse it for the tangles.” Aunt Tilly chuckles. “I remember one time she twisted my braids around my ears and all the kids at school teased me that I looked like Princess Leia.”

  I laugh. I love this story.

  Aunt Tilly points to some surfers. “Ever been?”

  “What, surfing? No.”

  “Cade surfs. You should ask him to give you a lesson.”

  Excitement swirls through my stomach, imagining Cade and me spending time together. In the water. Alone.

  “Your mom helped me build a dollhouse out of cardboard,” my aunt continues with the memories. “She taught me how to wear makeup. When I had slumber parties, she’d go out and rent movies and get junk food for us.”

  Quietly, I listen, imagining all the things she’s describing. Their relationship once sounded close, like Gwenny and me. What caused them to grow so far apart?

  Tilly waves to some people power walking on the beach. “When she went away to college it was just your grandmother and me and, well, I don’t think she really knew what to do with me.”

  We reach the pier and turn around. The sun dips into the horizon and I snap off a quick picture that I text to Gwenny.

  FOR YOU, I type.

  I slip my phone back into the bike’s basket. “How often did Mom come home to visit?”

  “Just on holidays mostly.”

  “I bet you really missed her.”

  “I did, but then she got busy and I started getting in trouble. The years rolled by, and here we all are.” She glances over at me then, studying me, like she’s trying to decide if she wants to say something else.

  “What?” I quietly ask.

  Tilly turns her attention back to the sand in front of her. “Did you know your grandfather passed away the day I was born?”

  “No.”

  “He died in a car accident rushing to the hospital to be with your grandmother and me.”

  “I-I had no idea.”

  “Your grandmother loved him dearly and was absolutely lost without him. She went into a deep depression, so your mom took care of me from pretty much day one.”

  “Poor Grandmother.” My heart sinks at the thought of what she must have gone through. A brand-new baby. A dead husband. “Do you think she blamed you? Is that why you don’t get along?”

  Tilly mulls that question over for a second. “Maybe she blamed me. She’s never said as much, but maybe somewhere deep inside her she did.”

  We pedal in silence for a few minutes, lost in our thoughts. Why had Mom never told me about my grandfather’s death? Maybe Grandmother asked her not to.

  “So what eventually brought you here?” I ask.

  She points up the beach to the path that we first came down. “That’s for another time. I think I’m talked out for the night.”

  With a nod, I follow her back to The Pepper House.

  An hour or so later I sit in the dimly lit kitchen, sipping some cranberry juice, thinking about my family. I tried to call Gwenny when we first got back, but she texted me that she and Rose were at a party and she’d call me back.

  I can’t wait to hear what she thinks about everything.

  Aunt Tilly’s in her office doing paperwork and Frederick’s upstairs reading. I open my cookbook and leaf through it.

  My phone buzzes and I look at the caller ID. How fitting that my mom interrupts me right as I’ve opened my cookbook—like she knows or something. I hit the speaker button and turn the volume low. “Hello, Mom.”

  “Elizabeth Margaret, how are you?”

  “Fine,” I answer.

  “What have you been doing with your days?”

  “Sightseeing, hanging out, relaxing.” Getting ready to be a sous chef, I want to add, but she won’t like that response.

  “Matilda isn’t making you work, is she?”

  Making me? No. But I have been because I want to. “No, Mom, Aunt Tilly isn’t making me work.”

  “Because you’re not there as hired help.” Mom’s voice gets a little snappish, sounding more like Grandmother. “Just because she runs a B&B and you’re family doesn’t mean you owe her anything. If she asks you to work for your room and board, well, you just come back home.”

  I sigh in frustrated confusion. “Aunt Tilly doesn’t want me to work for room and board, Mom. Why would you think that? In fact, she’s done nothing but encourage me to relax.”

  Silence. “Oh, well, good then. That’s as it should be.”

  I roll my eyes, wishing Gwenny was here to share my annoyance.

  “You’re acting like a lady? You haven
’t done anything to be ashamed of?”

  “What? Seriously?” I shake my head in disgust. I don’t understand her sometimes.

  Cade walks in then and over to the refrigerator. I nod hello, taking my phone off speaker, and turn my back.

  “No,” I lower my voice, “I haven’t done anything to be ashamed of. Mom, would you relax? Why are you asking me such ridiculous questions?”

  Silence.

  Sometimes I wish I could just hang up on my mom. Or walk away from her. If I did, though, I’d never hear the end of it.

  “Has Matilda talked about our family?”

  “A little. She told me about Grandfather’s death. She also shared some stories about the two of you. Mom, it sounds like you two were very close at one time. What happened?”

  Silence.

  “Mom?”

  “I need to go. Your father sends his love.”

  “Tell him hi for me,” I mutter, listening to her click off.

  Cade puts his glass in the dishwasher. “I’m done for the night. Mind telling Tilly I’m out of here?”

  “Okay.” I pause. “Um, how much of that did you hear?”

  He shrugs. “A little.”

  I turn the power off on my phone, more to give my hands something to do than anything else. “She’s not that bad,” I halfheartedly defend my mom.

  “Mm-hm,” he agrees.

  My eyes dart to his. “What’s that mean?”

  “I didn’t say anything. All I said was mm-hm.”

  “Well, that was a loaded mm-hm,” I snap, not really knowing why.

  Cade shrugs again. “Listen, she’s your mom. I only heard a little of the conversation. I don’t know anything.”

  “That’s right,” I quickly come back at him. “You don’t know anything—about me or my mom. Just like I don’t know anything about your dad.”

  Cade visibly tenses and my heart thuds deep and slow. Why did I just say that?

  Quiet seconds pass as we stare at each other across the kitchen.

  “You’re right,” he very deliberately speaks. “You don’t know anything about Sid. So stay out of my business and I’ll stay out of yours.”

  With that, he’s gone.

  I close my cookbook and sit here as tears well in my eyes. I don’t know what’s going on anymore. My family’s turning out to be a complete mystery to me and now I’ve upset Cade. Rightfully so.

  I get up and rummage through the pantry, pulling out flour, sugar, vanilla, and baking powder. Since Gwenny isn’t around to talk, the next best thing for me to do is bake. I’m not necessarily a great baker, but even a bad sugar cookie’s still a sugar cookie, and it’ll allow me to bury my confusion and sadness in a bowl of dough.

  Chapter 13

  The next morning (three dozen sugar cookies later) dawns bright and beautiful—my first official morning as Domino’s sous chef. I should be more excited than I am, but my disagreement with Cade has left me moody.

  I have a few minutes until I need to be in the kitchen and so I dial Gwenny’s number.

  She picks up on the fourth ring. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” she groans.

  “Yes, it’s six in the morning,” I chirp, knowing full well she’s a total grouch when she first wakes up. “You never called me back last night.”

  She ignores that. “I was having the most amazing dream about some dark-haired pirate and me sailing off into the sunset. We were just about to kiss when you called and woke me up.”

  “Sorry,” I dutifully apologize. “But I’ve been baking all night.”

  “Oh, what’s wrong?”

  I tell her all about my bike ride with Tilly and everything she said.

  She yawns. “Wow, that’s awful what happened to Grandmother.”

  “I know.”

  “I bet you’re right. I bet she secretly blamed Tilly for Grandfather’s death and that’s why they’ve never gotten along.”

  “But it doesn’t explain why Tilly and Mom don’t get along. I feel like our family is one big mystery. I’ll have to do some more digging and see what I can find out.” I pause. “Then there’s my other problem. I think I pissed off Cade.”

  “Oh?” I hear the sheets rustle as she moves around. “The cute boy? What did you do?”

  I tell her what happened.

  “Oh, Em. Just apologize. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”

  “I don’t know. I think I really touched a nerve.” I look down at my watch. “Oh, I gotta go. I’m due down in the kitchen for sous-chef duty.”

  She yawns again. “You are so in your element right now. Let me know what happens. Especially with Cade. I’m going back to sleep.”

  “I will. Bye!” I purposefully chirp again.

  “Ugh.”

  Leaving my phone on the bed, I run downstairs and into the kitchen. Domino hands me an apron with The Pepper House embroidered on it. In the top right corner, Em has been stitched in. I smile.

  Domino nods to the sink. “Wash up and then start prepping by chopping that basil. We’re making spiced turkey cakes with stuffed tomatoes, artichoke dill salad, and strawberry-banana smoothies.”

  “Yum, that sounds good.”

  Domino waves his spoon in the air. “I bought the turkey yesterday and ground it with just a teeny bit of chicken thigh. That’s the key to the richness.”

  I slide a knife from the block. “Navia, our housekeeper, has these exact knives. They’re great.”

  “Is she a good cook?”

  “The best. I learned a lot from her.”

  Domino opens the refrigerator and gets out a container of yogurt. “I bet you were in the kitchen all the time helping her whip up things.”

  “I was—when no one was around to catch me.”

  He glances up. “What do you mean?”

  “Grandmother got really upset one time when she saw me helping Navia. Though they’ve never come right out and said it, I know my parents feel the same way.”

  “What would they think about you helping me?”

  I grimace. “I don’t know. I don’t plan on telling them.”

  “Ah, a secret, I see.”

  I pause. “Is that okay?”

  “The way I see it, you are eighteen. You’re cooking. It’s not like you’re out doing drugs and getting drunk. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “Thank you, Domino.”

  As I begin chopping the basil, he nods to the knife. “I special ordered that set ten years ago. I wouldn’t cut with anything less.”

  “Ten years ago? That’s when Aunt Tilly said she bought this place.”

  Domino spoons plain yogurt into the blender. “Actually, she inherited The Pepper House.”

  I pause in my chopping. “Inherited?”

  He plops a banana and some strawberries on top of the yogurt and hits the ON button. “Yeah, she worked here as a maid, learned her way around things, got familiar with the books, was an assistant to the owner, et cetera. When the owner died, he left it to her.”

  “He left this whole place to Aunt Tilly?”

  Domino hits the OFF button. “Yep.”

  I finish with the basil and start in on the garlic and parsley next. “What about you, Domino? How long have you worked here?”

  “I was here before your aunt.” He pours the shake from the blender and puts a small glass in front of me. “When she inherited the place, she wrote me in as her partner on the deed.”

  “Wow, so you’re partners?”

  “That’s right.” Domino puts a glass bowl in front of me filled with ground meat. “Put your choppings in here, mix it together with the turkey, and shape out twenty patties. I’ll start in on coring the tomatoes.”

  We work side-by-side, almost in sync, reading each other’s minds and naturally falling into a smooth rhythm. I’m starting to fit in around here. I can’t recall ever having felt that way before. I’ve lived eighteen years doing everything I’m supposed to do in order to fit in but never quite feeling as though I’ve succeeded.
Now, in only a few days, I have a whole new feeling about my life.

  Domino doesn’t know it, but being in this kitchen has already changed me. I can’t wait to do it all over again tomorrow.

  Now let’s just hope my family back in Boston doesn’t somehow find out. Or I fear this will all be over before it’s really begun.

  Chapter 14

  I sit on my bed, my cookbook open to a recipe for a lamb dish. Almost a week has gone by since my disagreement with Cade, and I’ve barely seen him since. I’ll catch him pulling weeds in Aunt Tilly’s yard, shuffling stuff around in the outdoor shed, or eating late in the kitchen. But every time I try to speak to him, he finds some excuse to walk off.

  His silence bothers me. I feel bad about how things have gone. If I could rewind the clock, I would handle that last conversation differently. I wouldn’t have gotten so irritated and snappy. I certainly wouldn’t have brought up Sid.

  “Hey.” Frederick steps through my open bedroom doorway, bringing me from my thoughts. “We still on for chess this afternoon?”

  “Definitely.”

  He salutes. “See you then.”

  I cut my gaze to the clock on the nightstand, quickly close my book, and jog downstairs to the kitchen.

  “Morning, Em,” Domino greets me with his usual smile.

  I smile back. “Good morning.”

  Aunt Tilly sits at the center island, reading the newspaper. She glances up. “Hi, gorgeous, don’t you look very put together this morning.”

  “Oh.” I look down at the matching shorts and top Mom bought for me and wish more than anything I could be wearing another one of my aunt’s outfits. “Thanks. Mom bought them for me.”

  Aunt Tilly takes a sip of her coffee. “Ya know, anytime you want to dive back into my closest, feel free.”

  I perk up. “Really?”

  “Or we could go shopping one afternoon at my favorite little place. What do you say?”

  “I think that sounds awesome!”

  Aunt Tilly gives me a sweet wink, and as I busy myself tying on my apron she drops a kiss to my head on the way to her office.

 

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