“I’ve been studying music since I was 9 years old,” Janie argued. “I’m not anything special. I just work really hard. But you have a gift, Emmett.”
She’d taken a step toward him as she talked. She was close. Close enough he could reach out and take her hand if he wanted to. And he almost did. Once the thought of touching her had entered his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about what she might feel like. He gripped the neck of his guitar a little tighter. They’d only been together an hour. Holding her hand was probably a little presumptuous. “Hey, will you teach me?” he asked her instead. “How to read music?”
She folded her arms across her chest and studied him. She was debating something in her mind, he could tell, her eyes flicking this way and that. “What like, right now?” she finally asked.
Emmett glanced at his watch. “Actually, I have best man duties with Deacon and Dahlia tonight. Some sort of cake tasting thing. But another time. Maybe we could grab dinner somewhere and then come back here?” He realized after the words were out of his mouth he’d just asked Janie out on a date. He didn’t mind the thought. He hadn’t been on a real date in months. And Janie was the most impressive woman he’d been around in twice that long. He held his breath, waiting for her response.
“I would really like that,” she said.
He didn’t even try to contain his smile. “Good. Me too.”
She walked him to the door a few minutes later. “Hey, can I have your phone?” she asked.
He pulled it out of his pocket and unlocked it before handing it over. Her fingers brushed against his as she took it. Had they lingered for a second before she pulled away? Did he make that up? He watched as she pulled up his texts and sent a message.
“There.” She handed it back. “I just sent myself a text. So I can send you the recording, and so now you have my number.” She looked up at him through her lashes, her teeth holding onto her bottom lip in a way that made his nerves tingle and his breath hitch.
“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll definitely text you.”
“This is, um . . .” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and shook her head. “This is not what I expected.”
Emmett opened the front door. “No, me neither.” He stepped onto the porch, looking back with a grin. “But I’m not disappointed.”
Chapter Three
Janie paced around her living room. “No way, no way, no way.” She sat down on the couch, then got up again, moved to the piano bench, then sat down one more time. She couldn’t focus. Couldn’t sit.
Having never really experienced Emmett up close and in person back in high school, save their short stint in biology as lab partners, Janie didn’t have a ton to go on. But this. Today. The hour they’d spent together was better than anything she might have imagined in high school.
With his biceps and his dimples and his calloused finger tips and the way his words melted from his lips when he sang. Had she not had her cello to hold onto, she might have fallen out of her chair.
A wave of envy washed over her. Janie was talented and she knew it, but she was no prodigy. She’d told Emmett she wasn’t anything special, and she’d meant it. She’d gotten as far as she had because of her work ethic and her commitment to her music, but she’d never go on tour as an acclaimed soloist. Not in her wildest dreams. That required a measure of raw talent she simply didn’t have. But Emmett had it, that intangible something that just made him more. She’d seen it back in high school. But she’d forgotten how powerful his presence was. He was magnetic. Constantly tugging on every part of her, inside and out.
And he’d asked her to dinner.
Emmett Calhoun had asked her to dinner.
Hours upon hours of her teenage life had been spent fantasizing about that very thing, and now It. Was. Happening.
Forty-five minutes later, Janie still sat in the living room listening to the recording she’d made of Emmett’s song. For possibly the sixty seventh time.
“Is that him?”
Janie jumped and turned around.
Mallory stood in the doorway, still wearing her pale pink scrubs form work. Janie scrambled to turn off her phone. “Where have you been? I must have texted you a billion times!”
Mallory sat down beside her. “Sorry. A procedure went late so I stayed to assist.”
Janie had been waiting for this very moment, when she could finally launch into a detailed accounting of her afternoon with Emmett, explaining every minute in thorough detail and ending with a drumroll opening to the song they’d recorded. But Mallory looked awful, her face drawn, her eyes watery and sad.
“Mal, what’s wrong?” Janie asked. “You look awful.”
Mallory shrugged. “It’s dumb, really.”
“It’s not dumb. Not if it made you feel like this.”
Mallory wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Tasha sent pictures to one of the other hygienists today.”
Janie narrowed her eyes. Office manager Tasha? “Pictures of what?”
“Of them. The happy couple. Lounging next to the ocean somewhere.”
“Dude. Doesn’t she have kids?” Janie said. “How can she have left her family like that?”
“I don’t think she has kids,” Mallory said. “A cat, maybe.”
“Seriously, I think you need to look for another job. There are dentists everywhere. Get a fresh start. Where there won’t be reminders of what he did every time you turn around.”
Mallory sighed and dropped her head into her sister’s lap. “Maybe you’re right.”
Janie brushed a hand over her sister’s hair. Preston was an idiot and didn’t deserve one more of Mallory’s tears. “Come on,” Janie said. “We’re going out tonight.”
“No,” Mallory grumbled. “I just got home. I don’t want to go back out.”
“But there’s nothing to eat here and it’s time for dinner. We can go to that Korean food truck you mentioned.”
Mallory didn’t respond.
“Or, go get fried green tomatoes at Blossom?”
Mallory shifted, turning her head toward Janie in interest.
“And then go to Jeni’s for ice cream?”
That did the trick. “Okay,” Mallory said, sitting up. “You win. Let me go change my clothes.”
Ha. Every time. Fried green tomatoes and Jeni’s ice cream worked magic when it came to Mallory.
Janie watched from the far side of the bar while a Citadel cadet chatted up her sister. He was cute, but didn’t look older than nineteen, maybe twenty. Still, he was making Mallory laugh which was exactly the kind of thing she needed. When her cell phone buzzed from her bag, she pulled it out, instantly hoping it was Emmett.
She smiled when she saw his name lighting up her screen.
Today was a really, really good day, he had texted.
She typed out a response. Yes. Yes it was.
I realized after I left we never talked about payment. What do you normally charge for this kind of thing?
She considered his question. She’d never really done this kind of thing. It’s not like she had a point of reference. But then, it almost felt wrong to get paid for the hour she’d spent with Emmett. It felt a lot more like hanging out with a friend than a business arrangement, and with the promise of dinner? If things were going to get personal, she’d rather it all be personal. She typed out her response. How about you buy me dinner and we call it even?
Mallory would hate that she’d given up the extra cash, but that hardly mattered to Janie. Not anymore.
Deal. Are you busy tomorrow night?
Mallory dropped onto a barstool beside her. “What’s making you all smiley and happy?” She craned her neck, trying to look at Janie’s phone.
“It’s nothing,” Janie said, turning off her phone and laying it face down on the bar. It wasn’t so much that she wanted to keep Emmett a secret from her sister. It was more she didn’t want to rub her own sudden happiness in her sister’s face. She’d tell her later. When she wasn’t feeli
ng so down. “Tell me about your new friend.” Janie looked pointedly over Mallory’s shoulder. The cadet raised his glass and smiled when Janie made eye contact.
“Please,” Mallory said. “He’s adorable, but he graduated from high school, like, twenty minutes ago.”
“He’s in a bar, Mal. He can’t be that young.”
“Twenty-one? Eighteen? What’s the difference? They’re both too young for me,” Mallory said.
“Maybe long term, but for a quick rebound? Why not?”
Mallory’s expression tightened. “Janie, please don’t push me. I’m not ready, okay? You got me out of the house, you fed me, I flirted. I think that’s enough for one night.”
Janie pulled her sister into a hug. “Of course it is. You did good.” They stood up and gathered their belongings. “Ice cream on the way home?”
Mallory nodded. “Absolutely.”
The line outside of Jeni’s Splendid Ice Cream was longer than usual, winding half a block down King Street. Rather than deal with trying to find a parking space, Mallory agreed to circle the block while Janie waited in line. Jeni’s was that kind of ice cream. It was always worth the wait. Janie didn’t need to study the menu—she always ordered the exact same thing and so did her sister—so she pulled out her phone to respond to Emmett’s text.
Sorry it took so long to respond, she typed. I’m out with Mallory.
Anywhere fun? His response came through almost immediately.
Getting ice cream at Jeni’s. But then home for pajamas and Netflix. We are nothing if not party animals.
You’re at Jeni’s right now? I’m two blocks away.
Janie immediately looked over her shoulder, which was dumb. Two blocks away was not right outside Jeni’s storefront. Still, her pulse quickened at the thought of possibly seeing him again.
Still cake tasting? she asked. You’re a good brother/best man.
Dahlia has changed her mind no less than fifty times. I like the chocolate, but I think it would taste better with some ice cream. He finished the text with a little winking emoji.
Janie stared at her phone and resisted the urge to run laps around the inside of the ice cream shop, yelling to anyone who would listen that Emmett Calhoun was flirting with her.
Hopefully you’ll get out of there before Jeni’s closes, Janie texted back. A reward for your endless patience!
Will you still be there? he asked.
Janie had half a mind to call Mallory and tell her to find a parking space. She’d happily wait at Jeni’s for Emmett to show up. But it was already a miracle Mallory had agreed to a night out in the first place. And she’d been clear when they left the bar. She was ready to go home.
I wish, Janie responded. Mallory doesn’t feel great. She’s getting over a bad break up and can only take so much of the social scene. I promised her an early night in. Pajamas and Netflix, remember? She typed out another message before he could respond. But I am free for dinner tomorrow night.
It was her turn to order so she slipped her phone into the back pocket of her jeans, only semi-distracted when it buzzed, and then buzzed again with incoming messages. With an ice cream cone in each hand, she had no choice but to leave it there until she was back in the car. She handed Mallory her cone, then yanked out her phone, dropping it in her lap before buckling her seatbelt.
“Oh, this was a good idea,” Mallory said, taking her first bite. “Any new flavors on the board?”
“Just the usual.”
Janie’s phone buzzed again, this time with a text from her dad. Janie forced herself to ignore the unread messages from Emmett, opening only the newest one.
“Dad wants to know how you’re holding up,” she said, through a mouth full of her brown butter almond brittle.
“Uggh, will you answer him for me? He just wants me to talk about stuff, and I’m all talked out. Rehashing with him will make me cry and I’m kinda enjoying being numb right now. It’s way easier.”
“You know he means well,” Janie said.
“Maybe. But he could also just be bored.” Mallory turned on her blinker and turned off of King Street, heading toward the battery. It wasn’t the fastest way home, but the detour had become routine for the sisters. Whenever they were downtown and had time to kill, they always picked routes that drove them past St. Phillips Episcopal on Church Street—it had the best graveyard—or took them past all the old mansions that lined Battery Park.
“I never get tired of these houses,” Janie said, through another bite of her ice cream. “And Dad’s not bored. He cares, Mallory. You have to call him and tell him you’re okay.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll call him tomorrow. But he needs to start dating again. He’s been divorced five years. Enough with the single life. Get a girlfriend already and leave your daughters alone.”
Janie tried not to laugh. “You don’t really mean that.”
Mallory shot her a quick glance before easing into an empty parking space on the far side of the park, looking out across the Cooper River toward the open ocean. A light blinked steadily out on Fort Sumter, guiding ships into the harbor. Mallory rolled down the windows, letting in a steady breeze blowing off the water. It smelled like fish and salt and home and instantly made Janie happy.
“I do mean it,” Mallory said. “I don’t want him to be as bad as Mom. But a little distraction would be good for him.” Their mother, presently sailing the Caribbean with her newest love, Jacques, had dated more men since her divorce was final than Janie and Mallory had their entire lives. Combined. Their father, on the other hand, had spent at least two years nursing his broken heart before picking himself up, drying off his tears, and pouring all of his emotional energy into his twin daughters. His fully-grown twin daughters. Not that their age mattered to him.
Janie finished the last bite of her ice cream and picked up her phone. “I’m responding on your behalf this time,” she said. “But you have to call him back. Before the week is out.”
“Fine,” Mallory said. “But just remember how much I ran interference when you broke up with Ben.”
Janie sighed. “Ohhh, I adored Ben.” It was more a wistful thought than a painful one. Ben was Janie’s only serious boyfriend, a violinist she had worshipped passionately until he took his musical genius self and moved to New York to play with the Philharmonic. She couldn’t fault him that, but it was still a crushing blow to lose him. And a big reason Mallory had decided that Janie didn’t need to ever date other artists. She needed someone more stable, reliable. Like an accountant. Or a podiatrist.
“Wait,” Mallory said. “I can’t believe I forgot to ask. How was your thing with Emmett this afternoon?”
Janie hesitated. She still wasn’t sure Mallory was up for the whole story. But no matter how hard she tired, she couldn’t suppress her grin. “Are you sure you don’t mind talking about it?” she asked.
Mallory scrunched up her eyebrows. “Why would I mind? Come on. Spill it.”
Janie bit her lip. “We’re having dinner tomorrow night.”
Her sister froze. “Shut. Up.”
“I’ve been dying to tell you all night, but then you were feeling all sad and I didn’t want to make it worse. But seriously, Mallory, if you could have been there this afternoon. It was so incredibly amazing.” Janie launched into a minute-by-minute explanation of the hour she spent with Emmett from the way he smelled, to the lopsided lift of his smile and the hints of copper in his deep brown eyes. “And he wants me to help him learn how to read music,” she finished. “We’re getting together tomorrow night. For dinner and music lessons.”
Mallory hadn’t moved the entire time Janie talked. She just stared, her expression frozen somewhere between shock and annoyance.
“You look annoyed. Why do you look annoyed?” Janie asked.
“I’m not,” Mallory said carefully, her face shifting to a more neutral expression. “Is tomorrow, like, a date? Is that how he made it sound?”
Janie paused and thought. He ha
dn’t called it a date, but it had definitely felt like that was his meaning, from the way he’d looked at her, to the comment he made on his way out the door about not being disappointed. “It’s a date,” she finally said. “I’m sure of it.”
“Wow,” Mallory said. She leaned back in her seat.
“What do you mean, wow? Why don’t you sound happy for me?” Janie’s mood had been soaring all night. To have Mallory stomp on her excitement was annoying. And unexpected.
“I’m happy for you,” she said. “I guess I’m just . . . surprised.”
“Why?” Janie asked, her voice defensive. “That he acted interested in me?”
“No, of course not,” Mallory said. “Of course he’s interested in you. You’re fabulous. It just happened kind of fast, you know? I mean, you were only together an hour.”
“But it’s not like we’ve only known each other an hour. We went to school together for years. A little bit of shared history can go a long way.”
Mallory reached out and motioned for Janie to take her hand.
Janie hesitated, tension growing in her shoulders. The look on Mallory’s face said a lecture was coming, and she didn’t want a lecture. She wanted to be happy that a great guy seemed into her and was going to buy her dinner. At least, she hoped. If she could ever respond to his texts. Finally, she pushed out a breath and grabbed her sister’s fingers with her own.
Mallory squeezed gently. “Just be careful, okay? After one hour, you sound as far gone as you did after three years. Don’t lose your head to this guy, okay? You said yourself how hard you worked to get over him.”
Janie softened, squeezing her sister’s hand in return. At the very least, she could understand where her sister was coming from. “I know. You’re right. And I promise I’ll be careful.”
“I don’t want to see you get hurt, Janie.”
Janie nodded. “That’s because you always love me best. But if you could see him again, Mal, you’d understand. It’s different this time. He’s different.”
“You can’t know that this soon, Janie.”
Janie bit her lip. She wouldn’t argue with Mallory about it. She understood her sister’s caution. But she also couldn’t explain what the afternoon with Emmett had felt like, with the music and the shared looks between them. It had been incredible, plain and simple.
Wedding Belles: A Novel in Four Parts Page 9
