The Legend of James Grey
Page 18
“Hi,” he said. He pushed one hand through his sun-bleached blonde hair. “I have books to return.”
“There’s a return slot at the front desk,” Emma said, pointing toward the foyer.
His mouth lifted in the corners. “I saw that. But I wanted to see if you were here.”
“Me?” Her voice pitched higher. “Did you have soccer questions? I’m not really an expert on the sport.”
“You remembered.” His eyes creased in the corners as his cheeks lifted. Words shimmied out of his pockets. Finally. Sunshine. Beginnings.
Emma’s shoulders relaxed. “That you checked out soccer books? Of course,” she said. She pointed to herself. “Book nerd. It’s my job to remember about all of my friends here and where they go.”
“By friends, do you mean books?”
Emma smiled at him. “Yes. Did you have a question?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I wanted to see you.” He shifted the books to his other hand. “I’m Lee. And you’re?” He held out his hand.
She slid her hand into his and shook it. “Emma.”
“Emma, would you be interested in having lunch with me? Or dinner? Or going to a movie? Or taking a walk in the park?”
Emma’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s a lot of activities for one day.”
He laughed, and the sound of it pressed against Emma like a summer breeze. She smoothed her hands down her skirt and smiled at the tiled floor.
“How about one at a time?” Lee asked.
Emma thought of James and of the hope he had renewed in her. She thought of Morty and Dana on their way to the beach and sunsets and new adventures.
She looked up at Lee. “I’d like that. Why don’t we start with a walk in the park? I’m off work in half an hour.”
“You could meet me at Scoopers in half an hour, and we’ll grab a few cones and head down to the park,” Lee said.
Emma reached out for the books in his hand. “I’ll check those back in for you, and I’ll see you soon.”
Lee’s expression of excitement caused Emma’s stomach to leap. He handed her the books and nearly walked into a bookshelf as he turned to leave. She walked with him into the foyer and watched him until he exited the library. She placed the books on the circulation desk. Words slipped from their pages and fluttered around her like sparkling, golden butterflies, and she smiled in the sunlight.
Possibility. Hope. Renewal.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my team of rough draft readers, supporters, and fantastic friends—Jason, Jeanne, Hank, and Karissa—who listen to me ping-pong ideas around during all stages of writing, who encourage me when I lose the thread of the story, and who love Mystic Water and its townsfolk enough to keep coming back.
Thank you to my longtime bestest friend and creative team member, Julianne, who has always made time to help me and whose artistic skills are out of this world.
Thank you to Ryan for your ditch-digging skills, for being a fisher of men, and for directing traffic back to the righteous path.
A universe of thanks to Daddy and Ma, who encourage me to get back up no matter how many times I fall and who always seem to believe that I can get back up even when I’m not so sure.
Lastly, thanks to James Grey for the endings—both fiction and non-fiction—for cracking open my heart so profoundly that it allowed light and love to rush in and fill the empty space, for offering up endings that weren’t good enough, which gave me the courage, even during the devastation, to take the endings, reshape them, and recreate a life that was meant for more.
About the Author
Jennifer Moorman was born and raised in southern Georgia, where honeysuckle grows wild and the whippoorwills sing. She considers herself a traveler, an amateur baker, a stargazer, and a dreamer. Jennifer sings in the car, writes story ideas on napkins, and knows quite a few ’80s dance moves that she isn’t afraid to break out. She is still a southern girl and is busy working on her next novel. To learn more about Jennifer, visit her website at www.jennifermoorman.com.
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Also by Jennifer Moorman
The Baker's Man
Little Blackbird
Honeysuckle Hollow
The Wickenstaffs' Journey
Full Moon June
The Legend of James Grey
Average April
Wednesday's Child
Watch for more at Jennifer Moorman’s site.