by Barbara Lohr
***
He shouldn’t butt in. This was crazy. But college was repeating itself. And he felt helpless to change that. Emily was still Emily. Clueless when it came to men and way too eager to jump right in. She was too trusting. Before long she’d be making some stranger cookies.
Before she really got to know him. And then came the inevitable disappointment.
Jackson hated to see that. How could she not see that those good-looking guys with the quick come-on lines weren’t in it for the long haul? They weren’t the guys who were thinking about what would make Emily happy. They were only interested in what would make them happy... for a while.
So yeah, since they were back living in the same town, he was going to speak up.
He was back to looking out for Emily Sommers. And he should feel more irritated about it.
Chapter 10
“So what have you been up to, dear?” Miss Charlotte asked Emily as they sat at her parents’ dining room table the following Sunday. Mom had cooked jambalaya, with butter beans and wilted collards on the side. The spicy smell filled the small home, bringing back a lot of memories.
Spooning an ample serving of steaming jambalaya over a mound of brown rice, Mrs. Whipple wasn’t being subtle with her questions. Emily swallowed a chuckle. “Have you had a chance to go onto one of those singles sites?” Mama’s neighbor squeezed her shoulders together, as if they were five years old and she’d said a naughty word.
“Now, Charlotte,” her mother said with disapproval, scooping butter beans onto her plate. “Emily’s very busy with her blog.”
Emily almost choked. She doubted that Mama even knew what a blog was, although Emily had tried to explain it several times.
“Oh, I know that, Gracie. I’m one of Emily’s clients.” Emily loved the pleased expression on Miss Charlotte’s face. When she smiled, the rouge on her cheeks formed two red apples.
“You are? Whatever for?” Her mother’s astonishment almost made Emily giggle.
“Miss Charlotte is ensuring that she’s eating healthy,” Emily said. Her father shot her a sly smile.
Well, that got her mother all flustered. “My goodness. Buck, maybe we should sign up too.” She turned to her father for approval.
“I think we’re doing just fine with our eating,” Daddy said. “You take real good care of me, precious. Now could I have more of those delicious collards?”
Any new clients were welcome, although Emily didn’t want to drain her parents’ hard-earned money. Daddy worked as floor supervisor at the paper mill and they were saving for retirement. Sometimes Emily thought Mama existed in a bubble, and Daddy was fine with that.
Her mother didn’t understand the struggling part of struggling nutritionist. She’d always been of the mind that a college degree opened doors to wildly excessive salaries. That hadn’t been the case at all.
The only companies who employed nutritionists were usually hospitals and large physician practices. Nutritionists tended to stay in those positions, or so she’d discovered. They had good benefits, so breaking in was hard. Emily could sure use things like health insurance and an IRA. But being her own boss had its perks. Working right above Victoria’s new business wasn’t one of them.
Miss Charlotte was not letting the subject drop. After she’d finished a mouthful of collards, she blotted her lips like the lady that she was. “Back to your dating situation, dear. I’m a bit curious since I don’t have any.”
“Charlotte!” her mother gasped. “Is this dinnertime conversation?”
“I think we could do with a little more rice, Gracie.” Her father intervened.
Jumping up with an exasperated sigh, Mama reached for the empty bowl. “Don’t anyone say a thing until I get back.”
Her mother could be such a trip. As soon as she left the room, Miss Charlotte bent closer and whispered, “Any luck?”
Did Emily seem that desperate? Inquiries like this always made her feel like her mother’s great Aunt Gladys, who died an “unclaimed treasure,” or so the minister had said in his eulogy. Well, Emily was doing everything she could to avoid being “unclaimed.”
“As a matter fact, I have.” There. That sounded like she was making progress.
Her father cast a horrified glance at the kitchen door, but Emily ignored him. Miss Charlotte’s lips formed a surprised and delighted O. These discussions were better when Mama was out of the room. Married to her high school sweetheart, Emily’s mother didn’t understand and Emily couldn’t fault her for that.
“I met someone last week.”
Miss Charlotte clapped her hands together. “Oh, my. Was he hot?”
Dad sputtered. Grabbing the napkin from his lap, he wiped his eyes and then his lips.
Thinking back over Keith’s unkempt appearance and lackluster conversation, Emily almost roared. Instead she finished her mouthful of jambalaya and swallowed. “Not really.”
“Do you think you’ll see him again?”
“Probably not. I’d, ah, like to cast a wide net.”
Her father’s eyes popped wide. Daddy shouldn’t be surprised. Hadn’t he taken her down to the marina in the early morning to watch the shrimpers go out? She’d been in grade school and the marina had seemed magical. He was the one who’d explained how the fishermen cast their nets wide to scoop up, not only the shrimp but other small bottom feeders. They were great for fish stew.
Keith was certainly a bottom feeder. But Emily wanted him to sound more mysterious. No way did she want to be seen as a loser. This dating thing had to be presented in a positive light. Miss Charlotte rubbed her hands together with glee. “Oh, I love this!”
Her mother appeared with a bowl brimming with rice. The air crackled with excitement. Mama came to a halt, eyes sharp with suspicion. “What’s going on?”
“Emily’s met someone,” Miss Charlotte said, so pleased and excited. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
“What?” Mama’s face turned pale. Daddy half stood to rescue the bowl while her mother collapsed into her chair. “When did this happen?”
“Now, Gracie. It’s nothing.” Her father occupied himself with the rice, blindly scooping a huge serving onto his plate. “It’s just a meeting is all. Right?” He turned to Emily.
“Absolutely, Daddy.” The thought of Keith at this table brought on a giggle she had to convert to a cough.
With a sniff Mama snapped open her napkin and arranged it on her lap. Her mother liked order in her life. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.”
Emily had to clear this up or Mama would be ordering engraved invitations. “I was just saying that I met someone through a dating site last week. No big deal. No sparks or anything.” That was an understatement.
Luckily her mother was sitting down. “Was Josie or Bryn with you? You didn’t go to meet him alone, did you?”
Keith probably would have liked that. He could have crossed three women off his list instead of just one. “Please. I’m an adult woman and I can get to Bluffton and back on my own.”
Well, that was a mistake. Her mother gripped the arms of her chair. “Buck, say something.”
Poor Daddy. All he wanted was to eat Sunday dinner in peace.
“Our baby is almost thirty, sweetheart.” Dad patted her mother’s white-knuckled hand.
Heck with dinner. Miss Charlotte was on a roll. “What was he like? What did you talk about?”
“Oh, he was one of those local professionals, working out of an office at home. You know the type, working on an app that would probably bring in millions.” She threw that out casually but nearly screamed with laughter.
But what did she know? Maybe she’d read about Keith in the paper someday. Eccentric recluse sells app for millions. That wouldn’t change the fact that he wasn’t the man of Emily’s dreams.
“Millions?” Her mother looked stunned.
“Oh, my.” Miss Charlotte pressed a hand to her lips.
But her father didn’t seem impressed. “But what do you know about
these young men, Emily? Do we know their families?”
Dear Daddy. How could she get him comfortable with this? Time to play the Jackson card. “An old friend is helping me. Someone I know well from school.”
The color had returned to her mother’s face. Lips pursed, she was thinking hard and that was always dangerous. “Who is this friend? Do you mean Josie? Bryn?”
She had to step carefully or they’d be inviting her “friend” to Sunday dinner. “Jackson Hart. Maybe you remember him from high school? We hung out together in college. Worked on a project together.”
Her mother sat back. “Of course, I remember Jackson. Those costumes he’d come up with for Halloween. My, oh my. Is he married?”
“No. We’re just friends.” She waved Jackson away for his own safety. “Besides, he’s seeing someone.” Her life would be easier if Jackson were tucked into that safe category. Already Taken. “But he did offer to help me. Kind of preview the fellows I meet.” She was stretching this a bit. But the words had a calming effect on her mother.
The ridiculous excuse was enough for her dad. His plate was clean and he put down his fork. “Did I see coconut cake in the kitchen?”
Bless her heart, Mama was born to serve. “You most certainly did.” Getting up, she began to clear the table, and Emily jumped up to help.
“Coconut cake,” Miss Charlotte murmured. “Gracious me. I sure am glad I live next door.”
“We’ve been the lucky ones,” Emily said, grabbing Mrs. Whipple’s plate. Any time she’d gone to prom or homecoming, Miss Charlotte and her husband would come over before her date arrived to see Emily in her dress. They’d watched her grow up and were practically family.
When she passed her dad’s chair, he reached out. “What roads are you taking, Emily?” Oh dear, her father was more worried than he was letting on. Mama was in the kitchen.
“The main roads.” But he knew better. To get to the main roads from Sweetwater, you had to take two-lane roads. Roads that weren’t well-lit.
“Do you think you’ll be seeing someone else?” Miss Charlotte asked.
“I’m meeting an accountant named Shane this week.”
“Oh goody. Did you hear that, Buck?” Miss Charlotte clutched her hands in rapture. “Your little girl is getting right out there.”
“And Jackson will check the credentials of this young man?” Her father waited.
What could she say? “Of course.”
Mama spun back through the door with the coconut cake. Emily ran to get the cake plates. The air cleared and conversation went on to spring weather.
Part of her blathering was true. Jackson had offered to help. But she hadn’t involved him yet. She was going to have to call Jackson.
***
He picked up on the second ring. “Jackson here.”
“I’m only calling you because I promised my dad I would.”
Jackson burst into laughter, the gutsy kind that made her stomach feel squishy.
“And this would be about?”
“Shane. The guy I’m meeting tomorrow night.” Yes, that foolish promise I made you.
In the background she could hear guys shouting at each other above the crack of pool balls. “Is this a bad time?”
She heard a door close, as if he’d stepped outside. “Not at all. So you’re meeting one of the guys from that Lowcountry Singles site?”
“Right, just for a drink after work.”
“At night?”
“Jackson, after work would be...evening.” That sounded better. Her father would approve. “After all, most people work. We’re meeting at the Crazy Alligator in Delton.”
She thought she heard him suck in a breath. “Don’t stay too long, Emily. That road has some dangerous curves.”
“Okay, Daddy.” She couldn’t help her smile. Jackson was being so cute about this. But one man worrying about her was enough.
They hung up. She worked on a blog post on different kinds of grains and why people should eat them. The previous week she’d tried out her quinoa salad and it was pretty good, especially when she added the small french onions and basil.
Emily loved experimenting with different herbs and spices. Becoming a nutritionist had been a good move. Her business was growing and she was proud of what she’d accomplished.
Before she knew it, the afternoon had disappeared. Going to her closet, she picked out a pretty pink cotton sweater to go with her jeans and swept her dark hair up into a ponytail. Her silver hoops with the tiny turquoise beads would be just the right touch. Then she tugged on her boots and grabbed her jean jacket.
“Don’t wait up,” she told Sasha, giving her cat a good scratch behind the ears.
After a big yawn and stretch to impress on Emily that she had better things to do than worry about her owner, Sasha went back to her bowl of food.
Emily locked up and left. The workers were gone for the day and Victoria’s car was nowhere in sight. The back alley felt familiar and peaceful. How Emily wished it could stay this way. She climbed into her car and took off.
The road was curvy as she drove toward Delton. Maybe Jackson had a point. She’d meet Shane at six o’clock. But what if they hit it off? What if they talked and talked until Emily knew she’d met her forever man?
She’d try to wrap this up before it got dark. Hope surged in her chest. Shane’s emails to her had been upbeat, and his photos were of a nice looking guy with a confident smile.
Was she pathetic for wanting this so badly? Wanting someone who called in the evenings, who cared about her. Worried about her.
But thoughts like this chipped away at the independence she’d worked so hard to build. Snapping on some music, she shut down her thoughts. The ride didn’t take long. Traveling through the marsh, past the cotton fields and patches of pecan trees felt peaceful. This was where she belonged, not in some concrete jungle of a city where buildings shut out the sun and the blare of traffic filled the air.
The parking lot had a smattering of cars when she arrived. She parked, checked her hair and lipstick and then sat there, counting the cars. Nine. That could be nine people or eighteen. Did that constitute a crowd in the Crazy Alligator? Her chest tightened and her breathing became shallow. Fear bubbled at the edges of her contentment.
Do not do this to yourself. Do not imagine the worst.
So she did some deep breathing. Closing her eyes, she imagined she was down on the pier, watching the shrimp boats come in, their nets heavy with the day’s catch. She conjured up the fishy scent and the marsh that edged the water.
This was home. This was peace.
With every breath, the tension wiring her body tight relaxed. Old fears receded and she opened her eyes This was just a parking lot. Inside the bar would be nice people who stopped for a drink after work. Glancing at her car clock, she hoped she wasn’t late. Cripes, she was.
This could be your Forever Man, she told herself, marching toward the door. But it was easy to see why some women never did this.
She was stepping into the unknown.
The place was noisy when she pushed open the heavy door. When they made their plans, she’d suggested meeting right in the front. Sure enough, a guy who looked like the picture online was seated at the bar, eyes trained on the door. He got to his feet as she walked toward him with a smile. Shane was wearing a navy sport coat over an oxford cloth shirt. Definitely a step up from Keith.
“Did you have any trouble finding the place?” Shane asked as they shook hands. He gave her one of those weird double handshakes. She tried to ignore that and slipped her hand free.
“No problem at all. Just put the address in my GPS. I’ve been to Delton before. There used to be a shop on Broad Street that sold essential oils and crystals.”
Shane looked puzzled. “What are those?”
His question didn’t surprise her. “Don’t tell me you’ve never rubbed peppermint oil on your wrist to perk up when you’re tired?” she teased.
“No, I haven’t.” T
he playful question hadn’t coaxed a smile from Shane. He looked so darn serious. But then, he was in finance, so he probably had an accounting background. She respected that. Someone had to know how to balance a checkbook. He sat back down and she took the barstool next to his.
“I think I’ll just have sparkling water,” she told the bartender when he approached.
Then she turned back to Shane who was draining a beer mug. “After all, I am driving.”
“A wise move.” He nodded with the seriousness of a much older man.
“Do you live around here?”
“Yep, my family owns Delton Industries. It was just a natural step after school.” He looked proud and self-assured. For some reason that bothered her. Still, she couldn’t fault him for coming home to a sure thing. Not when she should have done that herself.
“What does your company make?”
Ten minutes later, Emily was sorry she’d asked. Shane launched into a long explanation about farming equipment until her eyes started to cross. Words like density sorter and slurry spreader poured over her, merging into a monologue, not a conversation. She must have said “uh, huh” a million times. They were sitting on barstools that weren’t that close. But as Shane droned on, she felt the press of his knee on hers. Surely just an accident. She swiveled to the side.
“So what you do for living? Did you get off early?” His eyes scanned her outfit, which definitely wasn’t office garb.
“I’m a nutritionist. I work out of my home office.”
He seemed to turn that over in his mind. “So what do you actually do?”
She chuckled. “I get asked that question a lot.” His eyes stayed serious as she launched into her usual explanation, talking about the five basic food groups and her blog. After hearing about quinoa and couscous, Shane lost interest but his knee didn’t.
This felt weird and uncomfortable. Edging farther away, she faltered to a close.
“I’m a meat and potatoes man myself.” Shane seemed pretty pleased about that. While she sipped her club soda, he ordered another beer.
“A lot of guys are.” Was Jackson a meat and potatoes guy? In their college days, they’d been into pizzas and burgers. Studying Shane’s narrow features, his trim jacket and polished shoes and hair with a minimal sideburn, she decided he was a little too crisp and clean. This was a guy who planned every step of his life––or had it planned for him.