by Sophie Love
“Here,” she said, popping the cup in front of Trevor.
“Thank you,” Trevor muttered.
Emily was so stunned she froze on the spot. They were words she’d never heard him say to her before or had ever expected to! It was almost as shocking to hear that as it had been to see him pinned beneath a ceiling beam.
“You’re welcome, Trevor,” she said, a small smile on her lips.
They sat together silently, Trevor sipping his tea, the blanket huddled around his shoulders, until the workers arrived to fix the damage. Then Trevor shooed Emily away, insisting he was fine now. She left his house, surprised and speechless by the shocking turn of events.
Back at home she found Daniel and Chantelle hanging out in the living room. She’d never felt more blessed to have them in her life than she did at that moment. Ending up alone like Trevor was her biggest fear.
“Is everything okay now?” Daniel asked.
Emily nodded and sank beside him on the couch, still feeling shaken by the whole experience.
“It’s been quite a busy couple of days, huh?” she said.
Daniel laughed. “I can’t wait to see what Thanksgiving has in store for us.”
Emily groaned. “Don’t remind me. Trevor may have thanked me earlier but he’s still the guy who’s trying to get us thrown out of this place. And it’s still because of him that we have that huge back taxes bill to pay by Thanksgiving.” She shook her head, suddenly glum. “I have no idea how we’re going to find the money.”
“Don’t worry,” Daniel replied. “The carriage house will be ready by then and the income will start pouring in.”
“You sound optimistic,” she said.
Daniel kissed her lightly and wrapped her in his arms. “I am. I have a feeling that everything’s going to work out all right. Just wait and see.”
In many ways he was right. No matter what happened with the inn in the future, they had each other. Emily hoped that they would always be together, that time and circumstance wouldn’t tear them from each other. She thought of the pearl ring in the jewelry store, suddenly picturing it upon her finger, hearing the sound of a newborn baby crying. What would a child conceived by her and Daniel be like? A sibling for Chantelle, a marriage, stability for them all. With sudden clarity, Emily realized that that was what she wanted. But she would need to be patient and accept that for now she had everything she needed.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As Thanksgiving approached and the B&B remained guest-free, Emily tried her hardest not to panic. The storm had made her really count her blessings and keep in sharp focus what was important to her, and that was family, community.
Over the last couple of days, the living room of the inn had been transformed into a mess of craft activities, bright stickers, and glitter glue. Chantelle was eager to create the centerpiece for the dinner table, and had also decided to make menus that explained each dish in detail, with accompanying illustrations. Emily, wanting to encourage Chantelle in her creative endeavors as much as possible, indulged her new hobby. It was also a useful way to make sure she was occupied during the times when Daniel was busy redecorating the carriage house.
Tonight, though, the whole family sat together in the living room—Daniel exhausted from a day’s hard labor, Emily exhausted from a day of motherhood, and Chantelle full of energy and enthusiasm for the upcoming holiday.
“I need to know how many people are coming,” she said, looking up from where she sat on the floor beside the hearth, a sketchbook spread in front of her on the coffee table. There was glitter everywhere.
Mogsy lay stretched out beside Chantelle, Rain tucked in beside her belly as he always did. Daniel folded down the paper he’d been reading.
“How many are coming for what?” he asked.
“Thanksgiving!” Chantelle exclaimed, rolling her eyes at her father.
“Oh.” Daniel looked over at Emily, curled up on the couch with a novel. He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know.”
It had come up in conversation over the last few days that perhaps Thanksgiving would be a suitable time to introduce Cassie to Chantelle, properly and formerly. Emily assumed that Daniel’s thinking was that Cassie would be on her best behavior. Emily, on the other hand, felt that she’d use it as an opportunity to drink as much liquor as possible.
“I’m going to invite her,” Daniel said, his gaze fixed on Emily.
Emily shook her head. “It’s not a good idea.”
“Invite who?” Chantelle asked.
Emily gave Daniel a warning look. She didn’t want Chantelle getting her hopes up about meeting her paternal grandmother only for the woman to let her down. She’d already been disappointed so many times in her young life. Emily wanted Chantelle to learn that adults could be trustworthy and Cassie being here would most definitely be a hindrance to that goal.
“She’s family,” Daniel said, his voice turning a little sharper. “Thanksgiving is time for family.”
“Who is family?” Chantelle asked, growing more insistent as she waved her glitter glue pen around.
“No one,” Emily said, trying to hush the girl. Then to Daniel, she added, “It’s up to you. If you think it’s a good idea then I’ll obviously support you. But I think it’s a bad idea.”
Daniel nodded and Emily could tell instinctively that there was no way he was going to heed her advice. When Daniel got an idea in his head, he wasn’t easily persuaded otherwise.
He stood, dropping the newspaper onto the couch.
“I’m phoning her now,” he said.
“WHO?” Chantelle cried, her curiosity transforming into frustration.
“Your grandmother,” Daniel said somewhat sharply, turning his head over his shoulder to face her briefly as he stomped out of the room.
Chantelle looked stunned. Emily watched the girl sit back and take a few breaths. Then she looked over to Emily, a crease of confusion on her forehead.
“The lady from before?” she asked.
Emily sighed heavily. Of course Chantelle had remembered the encounter out on the driveway that time. She was a bright kid. Too bright for her own good sometimes.
Emily beckoned for Chantelle. She stood from where she’d been sitting, making glitter cascade around her, then curled up beside Emily on the couch. Emily stroked her soft blond hair.
“I promise you there will be absolutely no fights. No arguments. If your gran scares you at any point, I will make sure you’re safe.”
“But why does Daddy even want her to come?” Chantelle asked in a small voice. “I thought they didn’t like each other.”
“Daddy wants to like her,” Emily said with a sigh. “Everyone wants to get on with their mom.”
She thought of her own mom, alone on Thanksgiving. This would be the first year Emily spent out of New York City, and though she’d abandoned seeing her mom during the holidays several years back in favor of spending it with Ben’s family, she’d always made the effort to invite her. Patricia, of course, never came, but at least Emily knew she’d done everything she could. She wondered if she ought to invite her this year.
“I never want to see my mom again,” Chantelle said suddenly, her voice breaking through Emily’s reverie.
Emily was shocked by the words. “You don’t?”
She felt Chantelle shake her head against where she was resting on her. “I hate her.”
It pained Emily to hear the girl talk like that, to know that at seven years old she’d already given up on her mom being a positive influence in her life.
“You might one day,” Emily told her calmly. “If she stops being unwell she might be nicer.”
“But she won’t stop, will she?” Chantelle said. Her voice had become incredibly small and quiet.
Emily tightened her arms around the little girl, feeling a wave of love and a strong maternal desire to protect her from harm. The drugs Sheila took must be so powerful if they could break this bond.
“Maybe not,” Emily said. Sh
e never wanted to lie to Chantelle, or get the girl’s hopes up. She could tell that Chantelle appreciated her candor. She returned Emily’s embrace.
Just then, Daniel returned to the living room. Emily could tell by his demeanor that his call with Cassie had not gone well.
“She won’t come,” he said, simply. “She says she’s too hurt after what happened the last time.”
Chantelle unfurled herself from Emily’s embrace and returned to her craft station.
“That’s okay,” she said, diplomatically. “We’ll still have fun just the three of us.”
Daniel smiled weakly.
*
Later that night, once Chantelle had been tucked into bed, once Daniel had fallen asleep from exhaustion on the couch, Emily went to the small table by the door where she left her cell phone. It was the only place she got reception in the house, but she also liked leaving it there, not having it on her all the time. It was another way to disconnect from her old life, her old friends. Ben. Her mom.
She picked it up now and gazed at the screen for a long time, before finally bringing up her mom’s number. It had been a long time since they’d last spoken.
Patricia answered on the second ring.
“Yes?” she said in her dry tone.
“It’s me, Mom,” Emily said.
“I know it’s you. Your name came up on the screen.”
Patricia’s voice was monotonous, unmoved by her daughter’s attempts to reach out. It made Emily’s heart shatter to hear her that way. Did her mom care for her at all?
“How’s the weather in New York?” Emily tried, keeping her voice breezy.
She heard Patricia sigh deeply on the other end of the line. “What do you want, Emily?” she said.
“What makes you think I want something?”
“Why else would you be calling?”
Emily faltered. She’d lost any ounce of confidence she’d possessed before; her mom’s demeanor had sucked it out of her.
“Thanksgiving,” Emily finally blurted.
She listened to the silence on the end of the line.
“What about it?” Patricia finally said, her voice just as clipped as ever.
“I wondered if you wanted to come and spend it here. With me and Daniel. And Daniel’s kid.”
“Daniel’s what?” Patricia said flatly.
“His daughter,” Emily said hurriedly. “She’s amazing. You’ll just love her. Bright. Beautiful. She’s so much like Charlotte it’s uncanny. We’re a real family now, Mom. I’ve made a good life out here.”
“If you think I’m setting foot in that house again... “ Patricia began, and Emily could tell she’d inflamed her mom’s temper, that the woman was about to blow. “Your father cut me out of every vacation, Emily. Don’t you remember? I was never there. I haven’t spent a Thanksgiving in Sunset Harbor for nearly thirty years.”
Emily remembered the photographs she’d found in the attic, the ones in which her mother was always absent. But in her memories, it was because her mom hadn’t wanted to be there, that she’d refused to come with them. Or was that just what her dad had told her? She hated to think of her dad in that way.
“He was always whisking you off to that dreadful place,” her mom was saying, her voice now trembling with emotion. “Christmases. Birthdays. After Charlotte died he became obsessed with that house. It was where he felt closest to her. God knows why that meant cutting me out. Probably because there was some floozy up there who would dote on him in ways I wouldn’t.”
Emily listened, her heart hammering. She, too, felt closer to Charlotte in this house, in the place where she had died. But she’d always thought her mom had chosen not to come back here to avoid the painful memories. Patricia had always blamed Roy for Charlotte’s death, for being drunk and not watching the kids properly on that fateful night so many decades earlier. That it had been her father who’d enforced the ban on her mom shook Emily to the core. It didn’t fit at all with the memories she had of him, and it certainly didn’t fit with the story he’d spun her. The idea that her father had been having an affair grew even stronger in Emily’s conscious. She’d never wanted to believe that his disappearance was down to such a stupid, trivial thing. It would break her heart to find out that that had been the reason.
“Look, Mom,” Emily said with a sigh. “Dad… all that stuff is in the past. This is my house now and I want you to know my family. I want you to be here.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, Emily,” Patricia finally said. “It’s just not possible.”
Then the line went dead.
Emily felt tears falling down her cheeks. She heard a noise behind her and swiveled, almost startled to discover she was standing in the corridor of the inn, and that Daniel had awoken and come up behind her.
“Your mom’s not coming either,” he said simply.
Emily shook her head as she wiped the tears off her cheeks. “It’s just us,” she replied.
Daniel reached for her and tightened his arms around her. She rested her head again his chest, feeling devastated and betrayed.
“We need to go out,” Daniel said into the crown of her head. “Get out of this place for a bit. Have a date, just the two of us.”
Emily squeezed him back. “I’d like that,” she said, quietly.
She may not have her own family around her anymore, but she had a new family with Daniel and Chantelle. Nurturing that was now her priority. Being the sort of mom Chantelle could rely on, the sort she and Daniel had never had, was the most important thing to her in the world.
Family and back taxes be damned, Emily thought. This is my life and I’m going to enjoy it.
She grabbed her cell phone and scrolled down for Serena’s number.
“Hey, slow down,” Daniel said as he realized what she was doing. He seemed suddenly flustered.
“I want to go now,” Emily replied, determined. She was sick of feeling worried and miserable. She deserved some pleasure.
But Daniel’s hand on hers calmed her. “I have Serena coming over tomorrow evening,” he said. “It’s all prepared. It was meant to be a surprise.”
“Oh,” Emily gasped, shocked. “That is a surprise.”
Daniel smiled at her sheepishly. “So why don’t we go to bed now?”
He stroked her arm, alighting the flames of desire inside of her. Emily leaned into him and kissed him lightly, her whole body trembling with excitement. Then Daniel took her hand in his and led her up the staircase to bed.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The next evening, Daniel led Emily in through the glass door of the new fancy restaurant that had opened in town.
“We’re going here?” Emily said, a little surprised.
Daniel nodded. He looked uncomfortable in the opulent setting, and smoothed down his plaid shirt.
“I thought we should try it,” he said. “Support the new local business.”
Twinkling piano music floated through the restaurant, which was lit with low, romantic lights. It smelled delicious. Emily felt her stomach grumble with anticipation.
Their server, a twenty-something girl with curly hair, appeared and led them to their table. It was a round table in a quiet, cozy corner. The wall was exposed brick with creeping vines climbing it. On the table stood an ornate candlestick and a glass vase containing a single red rose.
Emily sat in one of the cushioned dining chairs and picked up her menu. “Have you seen these prices?” she gasped.
“Don’t worry about that,” Daniel said. “It’s all on me.”
Emily raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Have you come into some money or something?” she joked.
But Daniel just frowned and shook his head. He looked more uncomfortable than ever and Emily started to get nervous herself, as though by osmosis.
The server came over and poured them each a glass of water. Daniel ordered a bottle of white wine, some olives, and bread and the server went away.
“Thi
s is so fancy,” Emily said, leaning across the table and whispering conspiratorially to Daniel. “I’m not sure if Sunset Harbor needs a place like this.” Most of the restaurant was empty. On a night like tonight, Joe’s waffle house would be positively heaving. “Although, saying that,” Emily continued, “Gus and his friendly OAPS would love a place like this.”
Daniel grunted some kind of acknowledgment and shuffled in his seat.
“What’s wrong?” Emily asked with a laugh. “You don’t like it here?”
“Shh,” Daniel said. The server was returning and he was clearly worried she’d overhear.
But she didn’t show any indication of it as she poured them each a glass of wine and asked if they were ready to order.
“I’ll have the roasted langoustines with oyster puree for starter and the camembert and fig tart for my main,” Emily said.
“Scallops, please,” Daniel said awkwardly. “And, er, soufflés.”
The server collected their menus, smiled, and walked away.
Daniel immediately shot Emily an embarrassed look. “They were the only things on the menu I knew how to pronounce. How come you’re so at home here?”
Emily shrugged. “Probably because Ben always took me to these kinds of places. The fancier the better.”
“Oh,” Daniel replied. His nervousness turned into sudden glumness.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought him up on a date,” Emily said, feeling guilty.
“It’s not that,” Daniel said. He scratched his neck and looked awkwardly at the table top.
“Well, what is it then?” Emily asked, growing a little exasperated. “You’ve been acting weird all evening.”
“I wanted to talk to you,” Daniel said. “About that day in the jewelry shop.”