After a brief episode of tears on both their parts, Tracy sniffed. “Do you. Forgive me?”
Emma wiped at her eyes. “Shouldn’t I be saying that?”
“No. I’ve been. Letting people. Boss me around,” Tracy said. “Should have. Insisted. To see you. And said. I forgive.”
Emma couldn’t work words past the tightness in her throat.
“I brought you. Something.” Tracy opened her fist to reveal an artist Carina Career doll.
Emma plucked the doll from her hand and looked at Carina’s paint-stained coveralls and perky ponytail. “Carina looks confident no matter what her career.” Emma could use some of her chutzpah.
“You draw.” She pointed at the float. “I’ll paint. We’ll fix it. Together.”
Emma’s pulse beat so loud it drowned out all the sounds of the accident in her brain. And yet, above the pounding, she heard her grandmother’s high-pitched singing, Ping’s distinctive meow, Tracy’s ripple of laughter and Will’s deep voice telling her most fears were silly.
“I know people believe in me.” Emma drew a deep breath and stared at her hands. “The question is...do I believe in me?”
* * *
“WHAT ARE. YOU doing?” Tracy appeared in Will’s bedroom doorway the morning of the Spring Festival.
Without looking at Tracy, Will transferred another stack of shirts from his dresser to his suitcase. “I’m leaving.”
“Because of E-Emma?”
“Among other things.”
Tracy sat down on the bottom bunk, slouching so she wouldn’t hit her head on the one above. “You like her.”
“I do.” He looked at Tracy, expecting to see the frail woman he’d taken home from the hospital. But there was color to her cheeks now, even if there were circles under her eyes. Harmony Valley was good for her. “I realized something in the past day or so. You can’t blame people for accidents. I...I forgive Emma. I’m going to tell her before I leave.” But he wouldn’t tell her he loved her. He couldn’t stand to see her disdain when she rejected him. And she had many reasons to reject him.
“You like her,” Tracy repeated, wonder in her voice.
“Do we have to have this conversation?”
“Yes.” Tracy snorted. “You don’t...know best. For anyone...not even. You.”
Will stopped packing and sat on the bed next to her. “Am I really that much of a mess?”
“Yes.” But she was grinning. “A friend. Called me. About a. Job in. Santa Rosa. I want. To take it. When I. Can drive.”
Will hugged her. “That’s wonderful. But you realize I’m going to call you every day when you’re gone.”
“Call?” She pulled back to look at him, her blue eyes sparkling with laughter. Talking on the phone was definitely not the best way to stay in touch with her, at least for now.
“You’re right. I’ll text or email.”
“Okay. Now. Come to...the festival.”
“No.”
“I have. A surprise...for you there.”
“I can’t. Rose will be there. And you know how I upset Rose.” And Emma. She’d be there. He didn’t think he could stand to see Emma in front of everyone. He had to see her alone.
Tracy stood up and held out her hand. “Come on. Y-you’ll like. My surprise. And I’m the...Grand Marshal.”
Will relented, letting his sister lead him out to the living room.
She let go of his hand and walked over to their dad, who was reading the newspaper in his recliner. “Dad. Time to go.”
Ben lowered his paper and looked at his two children. “I think I’ll skip the festival this year.”
“Grand Marshal.” Tracy tapped her chest and walked to the door without looking back.
Shrugging, Will went out after her, followed by Ben.
Tracy led them to the far side of East Street, where the floats were hitched to trucks and lined up for the festival’s parade behind Mayor Larry’s white convertible.
“Do I really need to see them?” Will muttered, meaning the floats from the Ladies Auxiliary, the Lions Club and the Veterans.
Tracy turned around and shook her finger at him.
Ben laughed.
And then Will realized that there was a fourth float hitched to Flynn’s black truck. It was their float, stripped down to nothing but the plywood backdrop and painted with the delicate lines and brushstrokes of a true artist—Emma. Oh, there were still thick strokes that had Tracy’s magic on them, but the buildings, the oak tree in the town square, the communications tower on top of Parish Hill, all had Emma’s finesse.
A group of kids from Rose’s production of The Music Man, complete with their T-shirts painted to look like band jackets, started swarming the float.
“Careful.” Tracy helped some of the smaller kids up.
“I’m going to go really slow.” Flynn hopped over the hitch, a grin splitting his face beneath his ball cap. “Nobody’s going to fall off. Uncle Will is going to walk next to the float to make sure of it.”
“But—”
“It was all Emma,” Slade said, leaning out the window of Flynn’s truck, his bright red tie a signal flare of hope.
“Hey!” Tracy protested.
“And Tracy,” Slade amended with a salute her way.
“Together?” Will couldn’t believe it.
“She’s my...best friend.” Tracy grinned. “She said she...painted this...because of. Rose and. Me...and you.”
This was the heart of Harmony Valley—people pulling together and creating everyday miracles, helping each other heal, giving and receiving forgiveness. Will could see it now in the smiles of his friends and family. He could feel it in their energy and enthusiasm. With a community like Harmony Valley behind him, he could do anything.
And then he saw something else. The kernel of an idea for a new app.
“Where is this best friend of yours?” Will had to talk to Emma. He had many things to say to her.
But no one had seen her.
* * *
“AND FIRST PLACE in our float competition goes to...” Mayor Larry’s gaze ranged over the crowd.
Most people in the town square were sitting on folding chairs. A few were taking a little midmorning snooze, waiting for the ceremony to end and the barbecue to begin.
Will held his breath and Tracy’s hand. She’d done a spectacular job making announcements throughout the morning. Her speech was halting, but heartfelt.
Mayor Larry put an end to the suspense. “A New Future for Harmony Valley! By Will Jackson, Emma Willoughby and friends.”
Will didn’t hear anything for a few minutes but enthusiastic shouts followed by slaps on the back from Flynn, Slade and his father.
“Speech! Speech!” his father yelled, pulling him in for a hug. “I’m proud of you, son.”
“Me. Too.” Tracy made it a group hug.
Will thought he might collapse from sheer happiness.
Mayor Larry was waving at him. “Will, come on up here. And bring Emma with you.”
He looked around, but Will didn’t see Emma. He climbed onto the podium solo with a grin that he felt down to his very toes. “I need to say that this town has taught me a lot. Building a winery here means so much to me, more now than when my partners and I started talking about it. It means so much to me that I’ve decided to make my home here.”
On the grass below him, Flynn and Slade exchanged surprised looks.
“It means that fire and medical services will return to town. Where’s Rose?” He found her sitting behind him on stage. “No one should have to wait thirty minutes for emergency services, right?”
“Right-o!” Rose wore a pink hat worthy of the Kentucky Derby, but it still failed to cover the big white bandage at the back of her head
.
“And I promise, if we can’t save the old oak tree, we’ll plant a new one.”
Rose grinned. “The winery’s got my vote, once they let me vote again.”
“You don’t know how much your support means to me. You were a strong advocate for what was right in this town.” Will scanned the crowd, but still didn’t see Emma. He experienced a moment of panic. Maybe she’d left already, taking Ping with her. “This winery means that my sister or your niece or your granddaughter can find a job in town if she wants it. Or go searching for her place in the world if she doesn’t.”
“That’s me!” Tracy waved at him and then pointed to the oak tree, where he finally found Emma, leaning against the trunk. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, her jeans were paint stained and her pink T-shirt looked slept in, and yet she couldn’t be more beautiful to him.
But he had the podium and he was going to use his few minutes to make a difference. “A winery here means that our traditions, crazy as some of them are, will be passed on to our children and grandchildren. But only if we embrace change, not only in town, but here, in our hearts.” Will tapped his chest lightly, sparing a glance toward the grain silo, knowing his mother would approve.
The crowd applauded with more enthusiasm.
“It looks as if you boys are going to get your rezoning permit.” Mayor Larry gave him a thumbs-up.
“But none of this would have been possible without my great business partners, my wonderful sister and one very special woman.” Will’s eyes locked on to Emma’s. “She’s an amazing, talented person. A woman who reminded me that you have to let people choose what’s best for them, and that you have to keep reaching deep until you find forgiveness.”
“Who is he talking about?” Rose asked.
Will turned, but kept the microphone close so that everyone could hear. “I’m talking about Emma. She makes me a better man.”
“Oh.” Rose fluttered her hands. “Proceed.”
Will turned around. Emma had her hand over her mouth. But she wasn’t running and she wasn’t frowning. It was hard to tell from this distance, but the look in her eyes seemed almost...hopeful.
“I forgive you, Emma,” Will said. “In my heart I forgave you long before I realized it in my head. But more important, I’m asking you to forgive me. I wasn’t ready for you. Not the way you make me look at life or the way you make me feel. I may look rich on paper, but I’m poor without you.” And he’d be destitute if she never forgave him. “Over the years, I’ve tried to keep every promise I’ve made, at least, the ones that counted. But I’ve made you a promise I don’t think I can keep—the one about never kissing you again.”
“You do realize you’re saying all that into the microphone?” Rose asked.
“Yes, Rose, I want everyone to hear, because in keeping with Harmony Valley tradition, I have something to say to Emma underneath the oak tree.” He abandoned the podium and walked down the steps, never taking his eyes off Emma.
The crowd began to murmur, and those who were standing parted to let him pass. In his wake, Flynn, Slade, Tracy, Rose and Ben followed.
“When did they fall in love?” Rose asked behind him. “If she says yes, I’m going to have to get her a pair of handcuffs sooner than I expected.”
Will chuckled. Something in the grass caught his eye and he knelt to pick it up. When he reached Emma, he took one of her hands in his. “Life put you in my path again for a reason. And now I find it difficult to contemplate going through life without you.”
Will dropped to one knee. In his free hand was a dandelion. He twirled it, made a wish and blew.
He ignored his father’s mutter about weeds.
He did not ignore Emma’s intake of breath or the sparkle in her dark chocolate eyes.
“I won’t tell you what I wished for. I think you know.” He’d wished for forgiveness and everything that went along with it. Patience and kindness. Love that was everlasting. “I love you, Emma. I think I’ve loved you for years without ever knowing it.”
“You’ll recognize it now,” Mr. Mionetti said. “She’ll never let you forget it.”
The trouble with public proposals, Will realized belatedly as the crowd laughed, was that your audience considered the experience interactive. The object of Will’s affection had yet to speak.
Tracy exchanged a soft smile with Emma. It was approving, not that they needed it.
“Emma Willoughby, I love you. Please do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
And then Emma was in his arms, tumbling them to the grass with a kiss that said yes, and one that said I love you, and another that said forever.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460320648
DANDELION WISHES
Copyright © 2013 by Melinda Wooten
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Dandelion Wishes Page 23