by Jenny Hale
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You hardly ever express your feelings either.” Rachel turned onto the thin path through the woods that they’d used as kids to get to the beach. Her sister was right. Other than with Papa, Emily had been pretty closed off her whole life. She hadn’t meant to be, and every once in a while she’d allowed herself to cry in front of Rachel, but most of the time, she didn’t open up to people.
The narrow gravel they’d walked down as girls was now overgrown with weeds and grass, but the stones still showed through underneath. Eventually, the dense trees opened up to powdery sand, the bay water slapping the shore in tiny ripples. Emily sat down on the log bench their grandfather had made when they were younger. Emily had helped him cut the wood. Rachel plopped down beside her and kicked off her shoes.
“If you’re worried about Gram, why don’t you ask her?”
“Maybe I will…” Emily plucked a shell from the sand and tossed it into the water.
Rachel turned back to the bay. Emily followed her line of sight. A speedboat rushed by, agitating the tide, sending it slamming against the shore. The sun was behind the trees now. The sand was cool on Emily’s feet as she took off her shoes and set them beside Rachel’s.
“Are you ever going to tell me about what happened with Brad?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“You never want to talk about anything that bothers you, but it’s good to get it off your chest.”
“Why?”
“Because you can get another person’s perspective.”
She didn’t need any more perspective on the matter. Emily let the wind calm her. “I just realized that I didn’t love him anymore. Is that possible?”
“Of course it’s possible.”
“I feel like I could cry at any moment. I feel so bad about saying no. But other than that, really that’s the end of the story.”
A flock of birds flew overhead, their shadows sailing across the water and disappearing over the sand.
“For three years, I’d defined myself by being Brad’s girlfriend. Now, I don’t really know who I am. And I’m living with Gram again… I feel like I’m right back where I started.”
“Then don’t live with Gram. Get one of those new condos by the water.”
Emily smiled. “Might be nice,” she said, but she knew she wouldn’t be comfortable there. She wanted space, land, water.
They sat quietly together until the sun had all but disappeared.
“I’ve got to get back home,” Rachel said, standing and stretching her back. “Clara has to have a bath and I need to cook dinner.”
“Have you made any headway with Jeff on the working situation?”
“No. He won’t even listen to me. I love him so much, but when it comes to that topic, it’s like we don’t speak the same language.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m so glad you’re home. We used to have so much fun—the three of us. Maybe having you back will lighten things up between us. Take the focus off our troubles for a while.”
“I hope so.”
“Why don’t you stop by tonight?”
“Yeah, that would be great. Text me when you want me to come over.”
“Okay,” Rachel said as Emily looked up at her. In the orange light of the summer evening, Rachel still looked as young as she had when they were in college together. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat, her long eyelashes curling perfectly, away from her big green eyes, and her dark hair fighting the humidity in its elegant way.
Emily stood up and followed her sister down the path, feeling like she was in the right place.
When Emily arrived back at Gram’s, a young boy was washing Papa’s Buick. The old car still looked brand new. Neither Papa nor Gram hardly ever drove it. The suds ran down the shiny blue surface, puddling in the gravel, making the ground all muddy. The boy waved and she nodded hello. The porch light was on and a single glass of iced tea sat sweating on the weathered wicker table. Emily took a seat, figuring that Gram must be on her way back out. The porch paddle fans were whirring but they didn’t do much to cool the humid air that surrounded her tonight. She looked out at the grass. Gram had always kept a perfect lawn but the weeds were taking over.
The bang of the screen door shutting cut through the nightly sounds of crickets and lapping water.
“Oh!” Gram said with a smile. “Back from your walk?” She leaned her cane against the side of the table and sat down.
“Rachel had to give Clara a bath,” Emily said as Gram picked up her glass.
“Would you like a drink?” Gram asked.
“No, thanks. I’m okay.”
“Are you?” Gram had her hands in her lap, a comforting smile on her lips. “You don’t look okay.”
“Rachel asked about Brad.”
“Oh… Do you miss him?” The old porch light cast a harsh glare on them, revealing the age on Gram’s face, but her expression was just as it had always been.
“I made the right decision, but I feel so guilty.”
“You can make your life anything you want when it’s only you that you have to worry about. The trouble is when you can’t live without him. But I haven’t heard you say that.”
“Are you living okay without Papa?”
Gram took in a delicate breath, her thin legs crossed beneath her cotton skirt. “I’m livin’,” she said with a smile. “That’s all I can do.”
“Do you ever get sad?”
“On occasion, but only when I forget.”
“Forget what?”
“That life is greatest when we live it.” She stood up. “It’s hotter than blazes out here. Let’s go in, cool off, and have a glass of wine.” She grabbed her cane and steadied herself. Then she called out to the boy washing Papa’s car and told him to knock when he was finished.
On her way inside, the phone buzzed in Emily’s pocket. When she pulled it out to view her missed call, it was an unfamiliar number.
She listened to the message as she followed Gram into the kitchen, and her mouth hung open.
“It’s Charlie. I’d like to take you to dinner tonight. Can you give me a call?”
“Gram?” Emily said, her heart beating wildly, the phone in her hand. Gram turned around. “Charles Peterson left me a message but my volume was off…”
Gram took a step closer to Emily. “And?”
“He said he wants to take me to dinner.” She wondered what it was all about.
“Then go!” she said, thoughts behind her eyes. Emily wondered what they were.
“But we were going to have wine.”
“Go, child! Call him back, for goodness’ sake! He’s probably waitin’.”
With nervous fingers, Emily hit the callback button and went into the formal living room for privacy. She sat down on the stiff sofa and crossed her legs underneath her as the phone rang in her ear.
“Hello.”
“Hi. This is Emily.”
“Yes. I recognized the number. How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
The line buzzed with electric silence.
“I’ll be taking a few people out to dinner tomorrow. I need to have an exceptional location that shows them I mean business but in an atmosphere that would make them feel comfortable. Where would you suggest?”
“It’s a no-brainer. Merroir. It’s been featured in national magazines, the food is outstanding, and the atmosphere is… well, perfect.”
“Feel like a business dinner? I need to go over a few things with you.”
“Sure. What time?” Emily leaned over to check her reflection in the mirror. The heat had had its way with her hair and she’d need to at least redo her makeup.
“How about in two hours? Enough time?”
“Yes. That’s fine.” She only needed about forty minutes.
“I’ll pick you up. Where are you?”
She remembered her promise to stop by Rachel’s, and she figured she probably shou
ld. She had enough time to visit and still go to dinner. “I’ll be at my sister’s.” She gave him the address.
“Perfect. I’ll call for reservations.”
“See you soon,” she said.
As she turned off her phone, Gram came into focus. She was smiling, her eyes knowing, like she had something she’d wanted to say for ages.
“What?”
She paused. “Glad to see you livin’,” she said.
“It’s just business, Gram.”
“So you say. Go get ready! I heard the whole thing. You’d better hurry; it takes the old hot water heater a lot longer to heat up these days and you need a good shower.”
With a grin, Emily headed upstairs.
“Hey, girl!” Jeff said as he opened the door and nearly knocked her over with a hug. Emily had certainly missed him. Jeff was like the older brother she’d never had, her protector. “Glad to have you back!”
“I’m glad to be back! I just wanted to pop by quickly to say hello.”
“What are you up to tonight?”
“I’m actually doing a bit of work, but I had a few minutes and I’ve been here a whole day without coming by! I worried you’d hold it against me,” she teased.
“I would’ve!” He gave her wink and ushered her inside.
“What kind of work are you doing at night, dressed as stylish as you are?”
“Stop flirting,” Rachel kidded as she entered the room.
What made Rachel’s comment funny was that Jeff was anything but a flirt. He was probably the most genuine person Emily had ever met. Rachel gave Jeff a playful nudge. Watching the two of them as they exchanged happy glances, Emily would’ve never known there was anything wrong between them. They seemed just as happy as they’d always been.
“You do look nice,” Rachel said.
Emily had curled her hair and put on a sundress and wedge sandals, pink lip-gloss, and dangly earrings that Gram had let her borrow. She hoped she hadn’t overdone things.
“I only stopped by to say a quick ‘hello’ because Charles Peterson and I are heading to Merroir. He’s picking me up here in a little bit.” Before her sister could say anything suggestive, she cut her off. “For a business dinner.”
“Mmm hmm. I hear ya.”
“I’m serious!”
“Hi, Aunt Emily!” Clara said, coming into the living room with a purple bathrobe and matching slippers. Her wet hair looked black, all combed back after her bath. She was holding one of her baby dolls.
“Hi there,” Emily said, leaning down to greet her niece. “Who is this?” She pointed to the doll.
“Gloria.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Gloria,” Emily said, grabbing the plastic hand and giving it a little shake. Clara giggled.
“It’s time for stories,” Rachel said, taking her hand and leading her down the short hallway to her bedroom. “You’ll get to see lots of Aunt Emily now that she lives so close.” She turned and said over her shoulder, “If you’re gone before I get back, text me if anything interesting goes down at dinner.”
“Okay.”
Rachel and Clara disappeared down the hallway.
“It’s so good to have you home,” Jeff said, sitting down on the old tweed sofa and motioning for Emily to do the same. “I think it’ll be good for Rachel to have family around her again.”
“Why is that?”
“She wants to get out more. I know I should take her on dates, we should have dinner parties… She said she wants to go back to work, but she doesn’t need to. Maybe if we hung out like we used to, she’d reconsider.”
“Have you discussed this with her?”
“Sort of. But we just end up arguing and I don’t like to argue with her, nor do I want that tension around Clara. Anyway, it’s so good to see you!” It was clear he was changing the subject. He narrowed his eyes. “Even when we get together at Christmas, you never wear earrings like that. You sure this isn’t a date?”
“I’m sure.”
“If it is, I’m going to make him get out of the car and come in so I can get a read on him. I don’t want just anyone dating my little sister.” Jeff had called her his little sister even before he’d married Rachel. He’d always looked out for Emily.
“It’s business. Swear. Apparently the Clearwater planning commission is giving him a fit over doing some sort of changes to the inn. He wants me to help him with that, and I can’t wait to find out why they won’t agree.”
“And you’re going to Merroir? Fancy.”
“He told me to pick a good spot!”
“Well, enjoy yourself,” Jeff said, leaning past her to look out the window. “I think he’s here.”
She turned toward the window to find the blue BMW pulling to a stop in the short driveway. Charlie got out and headed up the walk.
Emily said a quick goodbye to Jeff and went out the front door, shutting it behind her. Charlie stopped in front of her when she’d made it down the porch’s small staircase.
“Hello,” he said, a small grin emerging and reaching his eyes.
“Hi.”
“Ready to talk about county planning?” he asked as they turned toward his car.
“Yep.” She didn’t know a thing about the planning commission.
Charlie opened her door and she got in. As he walked around the back of the car, she took in the tan leather interior, the quiet hum of the motor, and the stark difference in temperature to the heat outside. He got in, adjusted the mirror, and backed out the drive to the street.
The ride to Merroir was quiet, and Emily was glad that she had to focus on giving him directions. She found herself a little nervous. On the stretch of road, when there wasn’t anything to say, she tried to fill the silence.
“So, where did you finally find a gift for Libby?” she asked, having no clue what else to ask. The fish was still sitting on the passenger seat of her car.
He turned and looked at her briefly before his gaze settled back on the road. “The art gallery in town. I don’t think it was her style—I could tell by her face, even though she tried her best to hide it.”
Emily inwardly scolded herself for bringing up the topic. There was nowhere to go from that question. “For her, I’d have gone with margarita glasses.” she said, being honest but worried that she might offend him.
“I actually loved the colors on the fish itself. Even the eyes were hand-painted.” He looked over at her to get her reaction, clearly not affected by her comment, which was a relief.
“I did too,” she said, thinking how she was going to take another look when she got home. “It would be gorgeous against a bright island-inspired paint—like yellow or pink.
“I’d thought that very same thing,” he said, glancing at her again but this time, interest showing in his face.
“Art is subjective,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Turn here,” she said as they rounded the curve.
They bumped along a rocky road, made a few turns winding them down and behind the trees, through a neighborhood, until they reached the shore of the Rappahannock River. Sitting alongside it, just a few feet from the sand, was a bed of white shells set with tables and chairs, strings of lights illuminating the space around the enormous red umbrellas that protected the patrons from sun on bright days.
“It’s outside?” he asked, parking the car and turning off the engine.
“Yep. They do have that small screened-in area, but the outdoor tables are so much better.”
Charlie got out and walked around the car, meeting Emily. They entered together under the Merroir sign that was suspended with a single pole on either side, creating an entrance for the outside dining area.
A hostess greeted them and took them to a table that sat beneath an oak tree, more white lights encircling its substantial trunk all the way up to the branches. Charlie pulled out Emily’s chair as a yellow Labrador trotted past them and settled himself under a nearby table.
“This is quite uni
que,” Charlie said, the breeze lifting the edges of the napkins that had been placed beside their menus.
Emily looked around, viewing the place through new eyes. Despite the fact that the majority of seating was outside, men wore buttoned shirts, pressed trousers; women were in sundresses and sunglasses—the atmosphere was casual yet sophisticated, a lot like the food. Along the edge of the restaurant was Locklies Marina, its docks lined with sailboats, the water gently lapping underneath them, causing them to rock.
The waitress came over to get their drink orders. Emily ordered first. She got a Sandy Crab Ale, a local ale known for its quirky brewer—she’d been friends with the owner of the brewery since they were kids.
“I’ll have the same,” Charlie said.
The waitress lit a candle on their table before leaving, the flame working overtime to keep its light against the wind coming off the riverbank.
“I’ve never seen anything quite like this,” he said. “It’s very different to what I’m used to in New York. I’m glad I decided to ask for your help.”
Emily had only been to New York as a tourist, and she couldn’t imagine what living there would be like. While it was an amazing place to visit, it didn’t fit her personality—she’d go crazy without the open space. Even when she’d lived in Richmond, she’d missed it. She just didn’t realize how much. “Do you live in an apartment?”
“Yes. It’s close to everything I need. I could walk to work.”
“Do you?”
“Actually, no. I usually hire a car or get a cab.”
“Why?”
“It gives me a few more minutes to get my work done. The pace is very different there than it is here.”
“I’m sure it is. Libby talks about it sometimes. She lived in New York for a while, you know?”
“I do know. That’s why I hired her. She was a perfect balance of both worlds. I have to admit that I’ve struggled with the pace here. I’m used to the hustle of business but down here everyone seems to be on their own time.” He leaned over the small airy fence used to separate the dining area from the grass. “Look at them,” he said, nodding toward a couple and their dog, walking along the edge of the water. “They were eating a few minutes ago. They’ve paid the check. I’d have gotten in my car and left but they’re still here.”