by Jenny Hale
“Don’t feel like you have to eat it all, Clara,” she said. “That much ice cream will give you a bellyache.”
“I won’t,” she said, her eyes on the ice cream as she pulled her spoon out and licked the end of it. Flash was at her feet, sitting, his tail wagging in the grass and his ears back as he followed her spoon with his eyes.
“I like to mix mine up,” Clara said, stirring the concoction and taking bites. Whipped cream and chocolate sauce were oozing over the edge of the glass and puddling under it on the table. “It’s yummier this way.” Clara was on her knees, her head tilted to the side and her petite arm working hard to mix the thick concoction. She pulled the spoon out and licked a lollipop-sized glob of dripping brown ice cream.
“You’re gonna make a mess,” Emily laughed. But she didn’t try to stop her.
She turned to Charlie, spooning a bite of ice cream for herself. “How did the meeting go?”
“Very well,” he said, a hesitancy in his voice. He scooped a spoonful for himself and took a bite.
“Tell me about it.” He might as well just be honest. She was a big girl; she could handle it.
“I’ve got my team together for one last meeting this afternoon regarding rezoning. I had to call in my architect, my engineers, and my lawyer. My lawyer thinks we might be able to get a variance or a conditional use permit for the land. They’re talking now with the planning commission. And then tomorrow I hear from Rocky. It all hangs on that.”
Emily knew that if it all hung on Rocky then Oyster Bay would be gone. She’d accepted that things had to change, and she’d been trying so hard not to feel sad about losing the house, but the thought of it actually being demolished and crumbling to the ground, just hurt. She couldn’t help it.
“I’m all done. My tummy’s starting to hurt,” Clara said. She’d barely eaten any of her sundae, but it was fine with Emily because, she worried, with the size of it, that Clara would ruin her dinner.
She took a napkin and wiped Clara’s mouth, the paper sticking to her lips as she tried to pull it across them. “You’re really sticky.” She balled up the napkin and set it on the table, gathering their trash.
But then she stopped, unable to hide her laugh. Clara had taken one more bite. She had chocolate down her chin and on the tip of her nose, and, because she’d attempted to lick it clean, she had vanilla on her upper lip. “Let me get a photo.” Emily would clean her up but she had to show Rachel. It was priceless. She snapped a photo and then cleaned Clara’s mouth with the wet napkin.
A woman walking by saw them and stopped. “Oh, dear! Please! Let me take one of all of you. You can even get your dog in the photo.” She nearly jogged over to their table. “You are such a lovely looking family,” she said with a smile, and Emily got a pinch in her chest. They were so far from a family. The comment made her realize how unsettled her life was at the moment.
Emily handed the woman her phone and they all posed—even Flash. She smiled—that smile she was so good at making whenever she didn’t want to have to explain to someone what she really felt.
“There,” the woman said with a satisfied expression. “I hope you all have a wonderful afternoon.” She handed the phone back and Emily slipped it into her handbag.
Charlie offered her a bite of ice cream. Emily kept that smile on her face. “You can have it,” she said. Then, she busied herself with cleaning up Clara and getting her ready to go home.
With trembling hands, Emily pulled the blue BMW up beside her car and put it in park. Charlie had insisted on taking Flash back to the house so that when she took Clara home, she could have a little time with Rachel to find out how the interview went and get the latest on Gram, since it was Rachel’s day to visit. Rachel’s house was small and close to the road—not a place for a dog like Flash—so she couldn’t take him with her.
Emily had refused to allow Flash in Charlie’s BMW. She just knew he’d get nose prints all over the windows and dog hair on the interior. She didn’t know what she’d do if his claws scratched the leather. So Charlie proposed that she and Clara take his BMW and he’d drive Flash home in her car. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. She gave him her keys, hoping that her seats were clean enough not to put any spots on those fancy trousers of his.
When she got up to the front door at Oyster Bay, it was unlocked, so she went in, but Flash and Charlie were nowhere to be found. She walked to the kitchen, where she saw her keys on the table, and looked out the back door. Charlie had set up two beach chairs from Papa’s shed in the sand by the water. She grinned remembering how she’d told him to get a beer from the fridge while he waited for her. She could make out the bottle in his hand, his arm on the armrest of the chair as he sat facing the water. His back was to her—almost a shadow against the sunlight. He was throwing Flash’s ball into the water and Flash was retrieving it in excited leaps. She walked outside, shutting the door behind her, and made her way down to the shore.
When she approached Charlie, she laughed, clapping her hand over her mouth. He’d unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves, his trousers pulled up almost to the knee. She didn’t want to think about the wrinkles that would be in them, and she hoped he had a good dry cleaner back home.
He turned around. “What?”
“You look… comfortable.”
“I am, thank you.” He smiled and took the ball from Flash’s mouth, chucking it into the water. He patted the seat next to him and Emily sat down.
“How can you not love it here?” she asked.
“I do love it.”
She felt the hope leap right through her. “Then how in the world could you destroy it?” She turned and looked at him, waiting for his answer.
He had concern in his eyes. “Why do you need this whole house to remind you that your grandfather was a good man? Why do you need this land to tell you that it was okay to grow up here? You know those things without this house.”
“I know that,” she said, the tightness in her chest returning like it always did whenever her views on Oyster Bay were in question. Flash dropped the ball by her feet. Charlie picked it up and threw it back toward the water. She watched it sail through the air and plop underneath the surface, a splash in the current.
Charlie got out of his chair and kneeled down in front of hers, grabbing her hands.
“You’re going to ruin your trousers,” she said.
“I don’t care.”
Emily had always thought that Oyster Bay would remain under Gram’s watch and that she’d pass it along to the next generation. She’d assumed she and Rachel would be the next ones to inherit the house. But with her move to Richmond—three years spent away from her home—it had seemed Emily hadn’t wanted it. The guilt over that consumed her.
“Come to my apartment in New York,” he said carefully. “I know you said you need to stay here, but I want to show you something else, another perspective. You might love it.”
“It isn’t me,” she said, getting her emotions back in check. “I wouldn’t be happy there. This is where I belong. Even if I’m not in Papa’s house. This is where I’m happy.”
“Are you?”
“Yes,” she said. “Even if I seem sad. I’m going to miss Oyster Bay terribly. There’s so much I want those walls to see.” She turned around to view the back of the house, the patio sprawling along the edge of it, meeting the screened porch, and she had to turn back around to keep herself together. “I want those walls to see Papa’s great-grandchildren. I want those walls to see parents who made it! Parents who spent sleepless nights with their children, who celebrated little birthdays with party hats and homemade cakes, giving their children what I wasn’t able to have. I want a family in that house. I want Papa to look down from Heaven and know that all his hard work building it was so that a big family—his family—could spend lazy days here, enjoying each other and having a blast.”
When she focused on Charlie’s face, his eyes were restless, showing his thoughts. H
e wasn’t saying a thing. He picked his beer up from the sand where he’d set it and walked out to the water, the bottle swinging between his fingers.
She got up and walked down to him. She didn’t want to make him feel bad. “But even if I can’t have all that, Clearwater is where I belong.”
He didn’t look at her. His eyes were on the bay.
Twenty
“I’m going to have to tell Charles Peterson yes today,” Rocky said through the phone as Emily sat outside the hospital. The heat was building in the car—she’d had the engine off for the last few minutes, trying to figure out some last way to offer to Rocky to save Oyster Bay. But there wasn’t any.
Emily understood the pressure he was under. He couldn’t go against everything he was supposed to do just to make her happy. And he’d warned her, so it wasn’t a surprise.
“I can’t believe Gram sold it,” she said more to herself than to him. She shook her head, the phone pressed against her ear. “I’m sorry to have put you in this situation in the first place.” She couldn’t tell him that enough.
“I’m sorry too,” he said. “I wish I could do more.”
She said goodbye and hung up the phone. Then, stepping into the bay breeze, she went to get Gram.
“The movers are starting Friday,” Gram said, shifting in her bed, the IV, now removed from her arm, having left a dark bruise. But other than that, she looked well, the color had returned to her face, and she was alert and pleasant. Emily could feel tension she hadn’t known was there leaving her shoulders. Gram smiled at her. “Would you mind packing the hall closet where I keep all my photos and the drawers with my jewelry? I’d rather you do that than rely on strangers.”
“Of course,” Emily said, sitting down at the foot of the hospital bed.
“The movers have a list of what will be going to Florida.”
“Yes. Speaking of… How are you going to get around in Florida without your car?”
Gram’s eyes dropped down to the tan hospital blanket that was covering her. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Florida as I’ve sat here with nothing to busy my mind.”
“What have you been thinking?” she asked, trying not to get excited by that comment.
Gram looked up. “I’m having second thoughts about moving.”
“You are?” She couldn’t help her delight from showing.
“When I agreed to sell Oyster Bay, you were in Richmond with the man I thought you planned to marry. Rachel was busy with Jeff and Clara, building her own family. There was no need for me to stay. But now with Rachel trying to go back to work and you moving home, I worry that I’ve made the wrong decision.”
“Can’t you back out of the sale? You could stay!”
“Even if I could, that house is too big for just me. I’ve already put a deposit down on a place in Tampa, and it’s nonrefundable. The weather is better in Florida too…”
“You’re trying to talk yourself into it.”
“I’m trying not to sell myself short. I’d like to get a fresh start on these last few years of mine. But now you’re all here, and it scares me. I don’t want to miss out on anything.”
They fell silent for a few moments before Gram piped up again. “Has anyone called on the furniture?”
“No. Just the car.”
“What will I do with it all?”
“Well, if you move, we can put it in my storage unit until it sells. I can also call around to some antique markets in town to see if any of them want to buy anything. But if you don’t move to Florida, we could look for a place to live together and move it there.”
“For now, let’s see how much we can get into storage.”
Emily took a deep breath. While she wanted Gram to stay, she also wanted her to be happy, so, ultimately, the choice was Gram’s. But she wasn’t going to let her off without a discussion. “Well, I should get to work. And I need to check on your discharge time tomorrow. I’ll be so excited to have you back home! Then we can talk more about you staying here in Clearwater.”
“I cannot wait to sleep in my own bed.”
Emily got up and kissed Gram on the cheek. “Do you have enough reading material to get you through today and tonight?”
“Yes, thank you. Now, go, go! Enjoy your day.”
“I feel like we need to host more public events at the inn,” Emily said to Libby as they sat on either side of Emily’s desk. She’d called Libby in to discuss some ideas she’d been having. “I do weddings and special events, but what if we hosted something big—say a regatta or a county fair? Maybe even a wine expo. It might bring in more revenue and get the inn on the map, so to speak.”
“I love that idea,” Libby said. “A regatta or wine tasting would be my suggestion. It would keep with the upscale nature of the place. I know Charles is really pushing to make it less about small town and more about luxury.”
“Maybe I should speak with him about it as well,” Emily said, wondering if Charlie still felt that way. Did he still want the same things for the inn that he had when she’d first met him? Or had she changed him? “Is he around today?”
“I think he’s got back-to-back meetings, as he flies out tomorrow. I know he has his cell phone though since Rocky’s supposed to give the final green light today.”
This was it—her last day to save Papa’s house. There was nothing to do but wait for the inevitable. But right now, she didn’t want to think about it, so she changed the direction of the conversation and went back to work.
Emily hadn’t seen Charlie at all, and, given the circumstances, she wasn’t surprised, but she did think he owed it to her to tell her one way or the other.
She’d spent the evening alone at the house. She’d brought Papa’s old wicker chair up from the barn after seeing Eli, and sat in it most of the afternoon.
She was still out there when the heat had finally become too much, so she went inside and curled up in the recliner in the front living room. Through the window, she saw the BMW pull up, and her heart began thumping in her chest. Charlie got out and started up the walkway as she opened the door. She didn’t speak. She only wanted to hear what he had to say.
As she went down the steps to meet him, he walked toward her, his face stoic.
Her chest went cold. This was the moment that could change everything. She braced herself. Had she been able to plant any doubt in his mind at all?
“I got the rezoning approval,” he said evenly as he reached her.
Bam. There it was. She was glad he hadn’t tried to sugarcoat things with introductions, but she felt like she was going to be sick. She stood there, still hoping for a miracle, willing him to tell her he wasn’t going to do this.
“The plans are laid, the crew is organized, and the preparations are in place to finalize the closing and break ground. We’re moving forward.”
Emily had known this probably would be the outcome, but until it was confirmed, she had been able to hold out hope for a miracle. Now, having heard the deal was sealed, her emotions washed over her like a tidal wave. She didn’t move, unable to speak. Seeing him and knowing he’d be gone in a day, coupled with the news that she’d be losing the house, caused a gush of emotion, and her eyes brimmed with tears. Her Papa holding on to the back of her bike seat as she wobbled along the front path, the water fights she and Rachel had had with the garden hose, the smell of the gas oven as Gram baked cookies—all the memories came flooding back, so many that she couldn’t process one completely before another surfaced.
“But do you know what surprised me the most?” he asked, stepping close enough that he had to look down at her.
She swam out of her thoughts, scrambling to keep herself together. Her throat was tight and if she tried to open her mouth she’d only cry. She had to be strong. She wiped her tears away but more replaced them as she tried to focus on him. The weight in her chest was almost unbearable. She met his gaze.
“I couldn’t enjoy the success of it.” He wiped a tear away from her cheek.
>
Emily took a step back, trying futilely to keep calm.
“What I realized was that I want to be with you, Emily. I want to share every day with you. I want you there because when you aren’t with me, I miss you terribly. Tell me we can get past this.”
Emily let the tears fall now. She couldn’t tell him what she felt because if she tried, she’d just yell at him. She thought she’d be okay when she finally lost the farm, but the truth of the matter was that it was entirely within Charlie’s power to save Oyster Bay for her. And he wasn’t going to. Yes, he had already bought it before he knew her, but here he was, telling her that he wanted to be with her, yet he was going to go through with his plans anyway without even a discussion about how he could fix this.
“Do you hear what I’m saying?”
“Yes,” she managed. “And no, we can’t get past this. I won’t raise my children here because of you. I won’t get to carry on our family traditions here because of you. But you don’t seem to care at all about that, which shows you don’t care at all about me because if you did, you’d understand how much it means to me,” she said, her voice rising. “Can I live without it? Absolutely. I could live without my parents too, but that doesn’t make it right! So, no. I’m not going to get past this just to make you feel better.
“Emily. You’re hearing the news about the house, but, if you take that out of it, you’re not hearing me.”
Yes, she was. Brad’s proposal slammed around in her mind—all those faces looking at her while Brad went on and on about his undying love for her. That feeling of defenselessness overtook her again just as it had when she’d realized that what Brad was saying had absolutely no meaning to her because he’d never demonstrated those feelings outside of that proposal. She was scared.
“Yes, I hear you. But those are just words. You haven’t shown me that they’re true.”
He stood there, his bright blue eyes baring down on her, so much thought and frustration on his face that she didn’t know how to read him. “I’ve spent every free moment I’ve had with you. What more do you want me to do?”
