A Kiss for Emily (Emily Stokes Series)

by J. P. Galuska

“No, unless you are referring to crazy. That, on the other hand, might be true.” I said, with my eyes still closed.

  “Why would you say that?” The presence of anger marked Sam’s voice.

  Opening my eyes, I rubbed the lump on the back of my skull. “I hit my head yesterday. Last night, I wasn’t worried at all, but as today continues, I wonder if I should be.”

  “Tell me. What’s happening?”

  I tried to explain the unusual ways I’d been perceiving things; however, the further I went with my story, the more it reinforced my theory of crazy.

  When I was finished, Sam looked up from the ant he was pestering. “I haven’t heard anything that unusual.”

  “That’s because it’s not happening to you. It’s really scary for me. It makes me think I hallucinated the flowers.”

  Sam grew quiet. “Maybe you had a dream last night and added in extra flowers.” His eyes hid more than his words said.

  “Sam—”

  He put his finger against my lips. The unusual taste returned. Maybe, it was his cologne. Or some other kind of hallucination! Nevertheless, it was obvious the conversation was over.

  “My last name is Easley. It originates from the word iron.”

  He removed his finger from my lips and I found the remnants of a smile. The taste disappeared with his finger.

  “The name fits you well. You most definitely are a strong man.” My words lacked enthusiasm.

  “The Yankee spelling is Ei. As folks moved south, they changed the spelling to Ea. Probably as a Confederate thing.”

  “You do like interesting facts. But you don’t seem very rebel-ish to me.”

  “I’ve had my share of scuffles in the dirt,” he smirked. “I must get it from my great grandma Hatti— consorting with the forbidden.” Then his grin turned mischievous. “I am definitely an E, A, Easley.”

  Curiosity filled my imagination. I had only witnessed a kind and gentle Sam. Yet judging by his size, I’m sure he could pummel the other guy if he ever found himself in a precarious situation.

  “You don’t approve?” Sam interrupted my daydream.

  “Oh, it’s not like that at all,” I said, embarrassed to be caught daydreaming again.

  “At any rate, I told you my last name so you could yell at me, if you still wanted.”

  I tried to smile.

  “Still not feeling well? Do you want to go home?”

  I want a hug and to be told everything will be all right. “It’s probably a good idea. Between smashing my head, moving here, and—” I nearly mentioned Alex, but why mention him? “I think I need to lie down for a while.”

  “Your head is fine, Emily,” Sam said sternly. “You are not nuts. Trust me.”

  “How would you know? You weren’t there when I slipped. Maybe I gave myself brain damage.”

  Sam searched the sky and heaved a heavy sigh.

  That only made me angrier. “Whatever is going on is not normal.”

  “Miss Emily,” he said as he rubbed his chin with his hand, “some of the best advice I ever received was ‘don’t over analyze life.’ Sometimes you just have to accept things at face value.”

  “I am. Right now, my eyes are telling me I need my head examined!”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I’m sorry if you think I’m being overly dramatic. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Hopping down from the boulder, I apologized again for behaving like a girl, and pushed back the sting of tears.

  The last thing I wanted to do was cry in front of Sam. Without saying another word, I left him, sitting there.

  Walking home in silence, I purposely avoided looking at flowers, birds, or even trees lining the water pathway. I was too afraid to look at anything. Too afraid of what I may or may not see.

  The journey home seemed much too long, probably because I was exhausted from all the gardening. Fatigue weighed heavy in my legs and the idea of a nap sounded pretty good. That was my plan. I’d go home and lay down for a while.

  “Mom, I found her,” a little voice whispered just outside my bedroom door, raising my level of awareness.

  “Here you are.” Mom’s soft hand brushed across my forehead and temple.

  I laid there for a moment, not moving. My brain was like a computer just being turned on, and needed time to reboot. Then, in an instant, my day flooded my memory.

  “Mom!” I bolted upright. “Something weird is happening to me.”

  Obviously she heard the concern in my tone, but tried to remain calm, “What do you mean, Emily?”

  “I don’t know if it’s from hitting my head, or the stress of moving, or stupid Alex, or what it is, but I think I’m going crazy!”

  Mom lifted my chin. “Tell me why you think this.”

  I told her about meeting Sam, the way I missed him with the bucket full of water, and the mysteriously appearing objects at his farm. “And the flowers. Where could they go?”

  “I don’t think you are going crazy,” she said reassuringly, “unless it’s boy crazy.” She tapped the tip of my nose. “But I will call the doctor and have an appointment scheduled.”

  She smiled and informed me that dinner would be ready soon. I returned the smile, but it was insincere. I didn’t believe her, and I’m not sure she believed herself. Add in Sam’s reaction, who didn’t put on a convincing act either, and all we needed was a fourth to start a game of liar’s poker.

  “Emmy’s got a new boyfriend.” Kat taunted, looking at Dad, who was already sitting at the table twirling his fork in the spaghetti.

  Dad made a fake surprised expression, “Oh?”

  Kat’s face brightened up, and I sank in my chair. “He’s a farm boy across the creek.”

  Dad tilted his head to the side as Kitty continued. I shot her a look to stop. “He lives there by himself!” Apparently, she was having too much fun.

  At that, Dad looked at Mom, who suddenly took interest in the ingredients on the salad dressing label.

  “Elizabeth…” Dad began, although he looked directly at me, “Do you know about this?” I could feel the blood drain from my face.

  “Dad!” I lurched forward in my own defense. “It’s not like that! Sam is a nice guy!”

  “A guy, who is old enough to have his own farm!” Dad countered.

  “Yes, but barely. It’s like he’s an orphan, his parents are dead.” I said, getting mad and feeling the need to defend Sam, as well as myself, which turned my attention to Kat, who started this whole conversation. “You brat!”

  That’s when Mom finally engaged. “All right. Let’s not jump to conclusions.” Mom gave Dad a warning look. “From the way Emmy described him to me, he seems to be a nice young man.”

  Dad silently echoed the word “man.”

  Kat wasn’t finished yet. “She thinks she’s going nuts, too!” I looked at Kat in disbelief. What was she trying to accomplish?

  Dad’s face turned sour. “Would someone please tell me what is going on around here?”

  Putting her fork down on her plate, Mom let out a heavy sigh. “No one is going crazy. Emily is concerned because she experienced some hand-eye coordination problems earlier today. Since she hit her head yesterday, she’s worried the two might be related.

  “I’m the one who over reacts to head injuries, and I am sorry if I have infected any of you with my own paranoia. I will call Dr. Lui in the morning and see what she recommends.” Grabbing her fork, Mom stabbed another section of spaghetti and began twisting.

  No one had anything else to say over dinner, only exchanging words in polite requests. The table was cleared in a similar fashion. Once everything was put away, we scattered in our own directions. Mom and Kat went to work on the bird journal while Dad retired to the family room to read the newspaper. I grabbed my wooden companion and together, we headed out for the deck. It was a perfect evening to play my guitar.

  The sun hovered deep on the horizon and the telltale clouds indicated late night rain was likely. At least I hop
ed so. I yearned for the chance to lie in bed and listen to the rain pitter-patter down upon the rooftop.

  After placing a chair alongside the wooden railing, I sat down and propped my feet up. An invisible place called serenity began to appear as I played the melody flowing out of my memory. Once again, my loyal friend helped me work though my sorrows and grief. I could feel the stress being taken from my body and released high above the treetops note by note. A small gust of wind blew my hair around my face, tickling my nose. Within the wind, I smelled the new and familiar scent that reminded me of Sam. The smoky taste touched my tongue for a brief moment. Tiny goosebumps rose upon my flesh. Standing abruptly, I searched the yard and woods for him. Without thought, I called out, “Sam?”

  I scanned the wooded scenery in vain. Disappointed, I sat down and placed the guitar back in my lap. Like a loitering fascination, I had no choice but to smile as my thoughts continued of Sam. With my eyes closed, I slowly strummed my guitar, carelessly and without much thought. The notes were soft and delicate, becoming a love song.

  Chapter Sixteen

  CHOICES

  SAM WANDERED THE OPEN FIELD, regretting the recent decisions he had made. What a fool! He shook his head in disgust at himself. Who was he trying to kid? Himself, obviously. He never should have allowed it to go this far.

  Their worlds didn’t mix. He could try to blend in, but questioned how much longer he really expected to keep the illusion going. Close to talking himself into ending the escapade, the winds turned and blew in from the south. Within the breeze, a melody called to him, much like a forgotten promise.

  Chapter Seventeen

  THE GOLDENROD

  “DID YOU PACK ME A LUNCH?” Kat asked as she bounced down the steps in an adorable summer outfit. It was too nice for camp, but I decided not to say anything just because she looked so darn cute.

  “Mom did last night,” I said, handing her the insulated bag.

  “What are you going to do today?” she asked, probably to blackmail me later.

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Are you going to see Sam?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to wait and see how my brain is functioning.”

  “You’re catching Mom’s paranoia.” Kat stood with her hands on her hips, analyzing me. “Do you really think you’re crazy? Maybe we should call a cab.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered, grabbing my purse off the counter.

  Kat shook her lunch like a present. “You’re the one that brought it up.”

  “Let’s get you to camp.” I gave her a gentle push.

  The walk to the car refreshed the conversation. “Kat?” I asked in lingering tones.

  “What?”

  “You look nice today.”

  She beamed with pride. “Thanks!”

  “How did you do in your track and field this year?”

  Ecstatic that I asked, Kat provided me with an animated play-by-play recap of the entire day. She won a total of four blue ribbons, two red, and one pink ribbon for fourth place in the relay because one of the girls tripped. Her recount of the story lasted all the way to the sign-in desk.

  “Have fun.” I gave her a one-armed hug, preparing to leave.

  “I will. Camp is a blast!” she said, jumping up like she going to dunk a basketball. Two arms squeezed around my neck instead. “Have fun with you-know-who.”

  As I made my way back to the car, I knew I wouldn’t stay away from Sam. Despite common sense yelling things like, “Don’t be rash” and “Slow down!” I pushed them aside for barely justifiable reasons like, I enjoyed being with him, and I liked the way he made me feel. Plus, thinking about not seeing him made my stomach hurt.

  But today, I intended to get answers. He had used the “enough-about-me” more than once. It would be my turn to ask the questions.

  Waving to Kitty one more time before she ducked out of sight, I realized we were both lucky, each having an adventure to look forward to. A happy little giggle escaped my lips; never in my wildest dreams did I think my adventure would revolve around farming.

  After all, I was a city girl.

  As I began my journey up the creek bed, I kept my eyes busy with the water and out of the tall grass where the wildflowers might be. Even though I relied on denial for so many unpleasant things in life, it was hard ignoring my fears of being crazy. I still didn’t know what, but something was very wrong. So, in an attempt to distract my mind, I decided to listen for song birds.

  But the only thing that caught my attention was the stillness in the forest air.

  “Where are all the little creatures?” I looked around in the treetops. I listened for rustling leaves.

  Nothing.

  Not a single peep.

  My stomach tightened.

  Is everything vanishing?

  Then a wave of reality spoke to me, but that wasn’t good news, either. Recalling from grade school, I learned that animals would leave an area if they sensed danger. Since they didn’t seem to mind me before, it could only be one thing, Varmints! Oh crap! I’m going to get eaten by a frickin’ wolverine.

  “Keep calm,” I told myself. “No panicking.” I started to run. Bobcats, coyotes, and bears, oh my!

  I was out of shape. My chest burned. I’m going to die.

  Bobcats, coyotes, and bears, oh my!

  I scanned the banks for a foaming-mouthed,

  large-fanged, snarling animal.

  Just keep running, just keep running, just keep running, running, running.

  Certain that a rabid animal was going to charge at me any second, I regretted knowing that the forest was a dangerous place full of flesh-eating creatures. I would much rather have been killed in a surprise ambush instead of waiting for the strike to come. Glancing repeatedly from side to side, each step became heavier than the last, and I couldn’t stop the maddening rhyme inside my brain, bobcats, coyotes, and bears, oh my!

  Jedd’s place was just up ahead. If I was attacked now, Sam would hear me scream and come running. At the same time, I didn’t want to go into Sam’s yard running like some lunatic. I’d have to take my chances. Slowing down, my legs began to feel like rubber. I had to stop.

  “I’m such a coward!” I gasped, slumping over in an exhausted mess. I braced my hands on my knees to keep from falling over. Still panting, I stared down into the grass to view a grasshopper inches from my foot.

  Gray-brown fur leaped from under the brush, directly at me.

  A breathless scream escaped my lips as I prepared for pain. Hopefully shock would set in quickly.

  Nothing happened.

  I opened one eye and saw motionless fur. I opened the other eye and saw a rabbit nibbling on a piece of grass.

  “For Pete’s sake!” I huffed, scaring the small furry animal into the woods.

  Collecting my nerves, my thoughts returned to Sam and my heart began to race again, but this time, not from fear. Making my way through the clearing, I caught sight of the house and barn, but he was nowhere in sight.

  Approaching the house cautiously, disappointment set in as I worried he might not be home. “Sam?”

  Out from around the side of the house, Sam walked into view, dressed in another white cotton shirt and a pair of well-fitting jeans, smiling his fabulous smile. “It’s nice to see you today.”

  A quick sigh of relief escaped my lips before curling back into a huge smile. “Thank you. It’s good to see you too.”

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d stop by today. Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes,” I said, stuffing my worries into a place called repression. “Besides,” I said, feeling impish, “I had to check on my radishes.”

  Sam quickly put both his hands over his heart, staggering backwards, as if he’d been shot. “You’ve come for the vegetables and not me?”

  “Don’t quit your day job, you’ll never make it as an actor.” I laughed as he dropped to his knees.

  “What?” His theatrical presentation ended abruptly. “I’ll have yo
u know that acting runs in my family.”

  “Really?” That answers one of my questions about why he knows so much about theatre.

  “Yes, my mother was a star,” he boasted proudly.

  “A star? Like in famous? ”

  Rising from his knees, Sam motioned to the garden. “Let’s water while I tell you about my family.” Oddly, he seemed eager to brag of his mother, unlike yesterday, when he barely spoke about her death.

  Working quickly, he fitted a hose to the water tank, and then pulled back on the long lever that allowed the pump to begin its work. More gurgling noises preceded the crystal-clear water from the end of the hose. There was no water fight today.

  As we approached the garden, I noticed that Sam had marked the rows of seeds by name after I had left. With its wooden stakes and handcrafted tags, the garden looked just as quaint as the rest of the farm.

  “Dressed in his finest suit,” Sam began, “Pa met my mother on a business trip in Chicago on New Year’s Eve. He was in the Windy City negotiating last minute deals with area textile manufacturers for the next year’s crops. He was into cotton, you see.”

  I nodded mostly to show I was paying attention, and noted how he loved to tell a good story.

  “Well, on this particular morning, he noticed this particularly fine lady as she entered the Blackstone Theatre. He watched nearly every man’s eyes follow her across the street before she entered into the theatre, but no one dared to greet her. She was much too upscale for the lot of them. Curious, Pa went up to the ticket booth to inquire about the lovely young lady. He was informed that she was Tilly Rushford, daughter to the wealthy factory owner on the south side of the city. She was back from New York with the theatre company for her career debut. This news did not intimidate my Pa in the least. He would simply order a larger bouquet of flowers than he originally thought. You see, Pa was not intimidated by risks; he thrived on them.

  “While ordering the flowers, he learned that it just so happened to be the grand opening of the theatre. Naturally, he upgraded his order again. When it was all said and done, he arranged for sixty red long stemmed roses to be delivered to her dressing room before curtain call. On the card, he signed, ‘Love and jazz awaits you.’