Courting Mr. Emerson

by Melody Carlson

  “Isn’t this great?” George asked with enthusiasm.

  “Let me get this clear,” she began slowly. “Collin plans to go to Whitfield College? This fall?”

  “That’s right. I thought you’d be pleased.”

  “But how on earth did this happen? And why didn’t anyone tell me?”

  “I just saw Collin at the bookstore. He asked me to come over here and tell you for him.”

  “But why did he keep this a secret from me?”

  “It wasn’t meant to be a secret, Willow. More like an unexpected surprise. It all happened rather quickly.” George briefly explained about Marissa and Collin’s breakup, and about his friend’s recent appointment as president of George’s alma mater.

  “I’m sorry to appear dense,” she said. “But this is not making sense.”

  “You see, Collin was in a bad way,” George said slowly. “He was completely brokenhearted over Marissa breaking up—”

  “Collin never said a word to me about any of this. Neither did Marissa. But you’re saying that Collin went to you with his troubles?”

  “Is there anything wrong with that?” George looked offended, but Willow wasn’t sure she cared. After all, she was offended herself.

  “No, there’s nothing wrong with that.” She shook her head. “But I do feel a bit left out. Collin usually communicates with me.” At least he used to communicate. But then Josie entered the picture. And there was Marissa. “Did Collin and Marissa really break up?”

  “Yes. That’s why Collin was suddenly so interested in this college. And he’s so happy about it, he wanted me to tell you he’d been accepted.”

  “And he is accepted? Just like that? How on earth does that happen?”

  George told her about someone named Martin who just happened to be in his office before going to Canada with his wife.

  “I still don’t get it.” Her irritation was growing.

  “You see, Martin Howard is my friend, and he’s the president of the college. After I spoke to him and after he reviewed Collin’s transcript, he accepted him as a student, to be enrolled for this fall. Does that make sense?” George looked perturbed.

  “What about tuition? This is a private college. I can only assume it will be rather expensive. Shouldn’t someone have spoken to me about the cost? And Collin is still a minor. Wouldn’t they need a guardian’s consent?”

  “The full application is probably on its way right now. Collin and I simply assumed you’d be happy about this new development. I remember how distraught you were the first day I met you—you were so worried that Collin was settling for a community college and—”

  “Yes, but you helped me to see that was a sensible plan.”

  “Perhaps it was sensible then. But only because Marissa was going there. After Collin and Marissa fell apart, well, it no longer sounded like the best plan.” George frowned. “Are you saying that tuition expenses might be prohibitive?”

  “I don’t know what I’m saying, George. Except that I question your involvement in this. It feels like you’ve stepped over a line. And I resent being left out of this major life decision for my grandson. Collin is my responsibility, and you had no right to do all this behind my back.”

  Suddenly the tables had turned and George appeared to be speechless. Although Willow felt a bit sorry for her strong words, she knew they were true. She did resent this intrusion. It was wrong. And to spring it on her like this—that was wrong too. She heard the door buzzer, signaling they were no longer alone. “I have a customer to attend to,” she said.

  “You’ve made your feelings quite plain,” George said quietly. “I’ll let you sort this out with Collin. I’m sure that nothing has been set into motion that cannot be stopped.” And without another word, he left.

  George spent the next few days vacillating between conflicting feelings of self-pity and guilt. Mostly he felt confused. He wasn’t completely sure what had happened that day . . . or why it had all turned so sour. But one thing he knew for certain—from now on, he would refrain from “helping” anyone.

  As a result, when Josie called, asking if she could start clearing out his attic, he’d made an excuse . . . saying it wasn’t a good time for him. He detected the disappointment in her voice, but really, what could he do? The irony of the whole debacle was that George had prided himself on being an uninvolved and non-intrusive sort of fellow. So how had he gotten himself so entangled in the Wild West family?

  “Hello, George,” Lorna called over the fence. “How are you and Baxter doing on this fine Fourth of July?”

  George paused from grooming Baxter’s thick coat and, setting down the wire brush, went over to greet Lorna. “We’re all right,” he told her. “Did you have a good visit at your sister’s?”

  “Yes. We had a lovely time. I just got home. My goodness, the traffic was something else. I completely forgot this was a holiday.” She pointed to Baxter as he rubbed against George’s ankles. “You’re letting him roam outside now?”

  “I think he’s settled in enough, although I don’t let him out here by himself. He just enjoyed a nice sunbath then rolled in the dirt.”

  “So any big plans for Independence Day?”

  He shrugged. “Only to enjoy my independence.”

  She chuckled. “So no big dates with your friend Willow?”

  “No, no.” George shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down.

  “When was the last time you saw the fireworks show over the lake?” she asked.

  He thought for a moment. “Probably not since I was a teen.”

  “You gotta be kidding!” She pushed her dark glasses to the top of her head to stare at him with a shocked expression. “I’m going with some friends. We plan to take a picnic dinner up there. You could join us if you like.”

  George considered this. “I don’t know. Baxter might be lonely without me.”

  “You said he’s settled in,” she reminded him. “Come on, George. The lake is so beautiful with the fireworks reflecting on it. And my friend Cathy is bringing most of the food and she is a fabulous cook. She’s making ribs and potato salad and all sorts of good stuff.”

  “That’s tempting.” George mentally compared that to the soup and sandwich he had planned for his dinner.

  “Then say you’ll come.” She smiled brightly. “And don’t worry, George, this isn’t a date. It’ll just be you and me and my friends, sharing some good food, a few laughs, and the fireworks show together.”

  “All right,” George agreed. “I’ll come.”

  “Great. Be ready to leave by six. I’ll bring an extra camp chair for you.”

  Before George could change his mind, she told him she needed to go make a fruit salad to take with them. It was set. George was going to the fireworks show with Lorna and her friends. Interesting.

  Willow felt badly for the way she’d treated George the other day. Especially after Collin expressed sincere enthusiasm for his acceptance at the small private college. When Willow asked him about Marissa, he hadn’t said much. But she could tell he was deeply wounded. And she knew that George’s “intrusion” had been good for Collin. For that reason alone, she’d wanted to straighten things out with George, but it had turned into a crazy-busy week at the gallery.

  For starters, Marissa had quit—with no notice. At first Willow had assumed it was related to the breakup with Collin, but she later heard it was because Marissa had decided to go on a backpacking trip with her new boyfriend. Meanwhile, Joel had just left on vacation, so now it was up to her and Leslie to run the gallery. And since summer traffic had picked up, they’d barely had time to breathe. But because today was a holiday—and it was just her and Collin at the gallery because Leslie had the day off and Collin had kindly offered to help out—Willow decided to close shop early.

  “I have an idea,” she told him as they locked up. “What if we have a little Fourth of July party up on the terrace tonight? Leslie told me that we can probably see some fireworks up there
.”

  “Sounds okay,” he said in his usual unenthused way.

  “I thought perhaps we could invite George to join us.”

  He brightened slightly. “He might like that. He acts kind of lonely to me.”

  “How about you call him while I figure out what we need from the store.” Then on her way to her apartment, Willow met Josie in the stairwell and explained their plan.

  “Cool.” Josie nodded. “I’ve been wanting to talk to him about that attic of his. He sounded so eager to get it cleared out, but every time I call him, he’s too busy.”

  “Mr. Emerson can’t come,” Collin announced as he came up the stairs.

  “Can’t come?” Willow asked. “Or won’t come?” Was he still mad at her? Was this her punishment?

  “He said he has other plans.” Collin unlocked his door.

  “What kind of plans?” Josie demanded.

  “He’s going to the lake to see the fireworks with some friends,” Collin glumly informed them.

  “I didn’t think he had any friends,” Josie said sharply.

  “Apparently, he does,” Collin shot back at her. “He said they’re having some sort of big picnic with ribs and potato salad and chocolate cake.”

  “Interestingly cliché.” Willow wondered if George had made the whole thing up. His clever way to keep them all at bay.

  “I wanna see the fireworks too, Mom,” Josie pleaded in a childlike tone. “Let’s go to the lake.”

  “I suppose we could go.” Willow would’ve preferred a quieter evening up on the terrace. She imagined herself up there with some quiet jazz music, the fireworks glowing in the distance. She looked at Collin. “What do you think? Would you go?”

  “I guess.” His enthusiasm was underwhelming.

  “We’ll get takeout food on our way,” Josie suggested.

  “I vote for KFC,” Collin declared with more enthusiasm.

  So it was settled. The West family would spend the evening at the lake. But Willow seriously doubted that George would be up there. Unless she was mistaken, George was home with his cat . . . by himself . . . and completely content. To her surprise, she felt envious.

  It didn’t take long to gather a few things and swing by KFC. It was just past seven by the time they transported their takeout picnic and quilts toward the lake. Taking in a deep breath of fresh air, Willow felt glad they’d come. The lake looked beautiful in the shadowy light, and the park was slowly filling with people of all ages. Children and dogs were romping about. Some groups, like them, were enjoying picnics on the grass or at the park tables. Others were out in rowboats and kayaks. The scene was so picturesque that Willow was tempted to take some photos on her phone, but she didn’t want to spoil the magic of the moment. Instead, she just soaked it in.

  “How about there?” Collin pointed to a vacant patch of grass near the edge of the lake and soon they were settled in. So far, he and Josie hadn’t exchanged any serious hostilities. To be fair, they hadn’t exchanged any words at all. But it still felt like an improvement. Just in case, Willow sat between them on the ground. She knew that if she paid more attention to Josie, it would go better for everyone. Willow justified this by reminding herself that Collin had received her sole attention for fourteen years, but Josie had only had Willow’s attention for a few turbulent teen years. It was no wonder that she felt somewhat cheated.

  “What a beautiful evening.” Willow bundled up her trash. “I’m so happy we came.” She leaned back on her elbows with a contented sigh.

  “I’ll go dump our trash,” Collin offered. “And walk around some.” He took the bags and drink cups and left.

  “He’s probably on the lookout for Marissa,” Josie said after he was gone.

  “That could be.” Willow sat up and glanced around. “He doesn’t say much, but I can tell he’s still hurting.”

  “The first heartbreak is rough.”

  Willow studied Josie’s profile. “When was your first heartbreak?”

  “I was a lot younger than Collin,” Josie admitted. “You probably don’t even remember.”

  The truth was Willow didn’t quite remember. “Then it couldn’t be Zeke.” Although Zeke was Collin’s father, Josie had lost contact with him after Zeke dumped her and moved away. “I do remember a boy you liked a lot—it was the first year when you came to live with Asher and me. I think his name was Nathan. He seemed like a nice young man.”

  Josie turned to her with surprise. “Yes. It was Nathan. I was only fourteen, but I was head over heels for that boy. And he was nice. Well, until he dumped me for Mattie Harris.” Josie scowled. “I still hate that girl. I hope she’s gotten fat and ugly by now.”

  Willow suppressed the urge to chuckle. She wanted to point out that Josie’s hatred toward Mattie was hurting Josie more than Mattie, but she suspected that wouldn’t be too well received. “So, at least you know how Collin might be feeling.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been trying to cut him some slack.”

  “Good for you.” Willow noticed that Collin was on his way back now. To her relief, he didn’t look too gloomy. Hopefully he hadn’t seen Marissa with her new beau.

  “Mr. Emerson is over there.” Collin jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “He’s with a bunch of women.”

  “Are you kidding?” Josie stood up, peering in that direction.

  “Don’t stare, honey.” Willow tried to act nonchalant. So what if George was here with a bunch of women? Why should it concern her?

  “They’re over by the dock,” Collin told Josie.

  “I’m gonna go say hello.” Josie took off now.

  “I’m sure Mr. Emerson will enjoy that,” Collin said sarcastically as he sat down.

  “How many women were with him?” Willow asked.

  “I didn’t count them. But I guess it was about six or so. He introduced me to one of them. She’s his neighbor. It looked like he was with her.”

  “That must be Lorna Atwood. She lives right next door to him.” Willow wanted to ask if George was with her as if on a date, but didn’t want to appear overly interested. Really, it was nice that George had gotten out this evening. As she lay back on the quilt, she hoped he’d enjoy tonight’s display. Hopefully he didn’t have a phobia of fireworks or loud noises. At least he’d have a lot of women around to comfort him.

  twenty-one

  The weekend following the Fourth was busier than ever at the gallery, so much so that Willow actually asked Josie to help out a little. To her surprise, Josie arrived with clean hair and decent clothes and, for the most part, minded her manners. Still, it wasn’t ideal.

  “I’d rather be an artist than work in a gallery,” Josie said as she helped Willow to close on Sunday evening.

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Willow sighed as she locked the door. “Fortunately, we’re closed tomorrow. Then Joel is back on Tuesday. And I have a couple of applicants to interview.”

  “Good. Because I need to get back to my art projects.”

  Although Josie still hadn’t managed to connect with George and peruse his attic, she’d unearthed a few stray items in Willow’s studio to keep her busy. So far, she’d decorated a small stepladder and an apple crate, and she was about to start on a pair of wooden stools.

  “I’d like to get back to my projects too,” Willow said as they trudged upstairs. She’d bisque-fired her most recent pottery creations, and although she’d glazed them, she hadn’t found the time or energy for their final firing. Maybe tomorrow. As she went into her apartment, she thought about George. She still hadn’t spoken to him. Not since their disagreement over Collin’s college plans. Although it was undeniable that George had overstepped a bit, Willow also had to admit that she’d been unkind and unreasonable. She owed him a sincere apology.

  As she changed into more comfortable clothes, she wondered about taking George some sort of gift to help with her apology. She remembered how he’d complimented her on her pottery and thought about the tall vase that was waiting for its last firin
g. She’d glazed it with a turquoise blue that would look lovely in George’s bungalow. Especially if it was full of sunflowers. As tired as she was, she decided to go down to the basement to load and fire up the kiln.

  Of course, it took longer than she expected. But at least she had an automatic timer on this kiln so she wouldn’t need to babysit it like she used to do. Even so, she stayed down there for a while, sweeping up and cleaning paintbrushes that Josie had left behind. And leaving her a reminder note to take better care of them. She paused to look at Josie’s stepladder. It was actually quite nice. Josie had listened to Willow’s suggestions, taking care to be sure that all surfaces were painted. Josie’s eye for color was definitely interesting. And Willow knew that if the right customers came into the gallery, these pieces could sell. At the very least, they were helping Josie to build confidence and would look fun in her apartment.

  Finally, satisfied that the kiln was at the right temperature and that the timer was working properly, Willow said a little prayer for good results, then turned off the lights and went up to her apartment. Hopefully there would be no kiln mishaps and George’s tall turquoise vase would look beautiful tomorrow. She was just going into her apartment when Collin popped his head out the door. “You missed Mr. Emerson, Nana.”

  “What?”

  “He came by here about an hour ago. He said he was just on a walk and had stopped in to say hi.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.” She pushed hair away from her damp forehead. “How was he?”

  “He acted just fine. Said he really enjoyed the fireworks the other night.” Collin frowned. “Do you think he’s dating his neighbor now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I thought he liked you.”

  Willow gave a weary smile. “Well, George and I are sort of like oil and water, Collin. We’re so different that I don’t—”

  “But I thought opposites were supposed to attract.”

  “Maybe briefly. But given time, they can rub each other wrong.” She unlocked her door. “But I do plan to speak to him soon. I owe him a bit of an apology.”