Come Rain or Shine (Shine On Series, Book Three)

by Allison J. Jewell

  “Thanks Emmie, you’re better than a sister. You are always here for me.” Ava took a breath and looked up at the ceiling before she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, “Come rain or shine, I always know you will be here for me. I can’t ever thank you enough.” Her eyes were glazed over as she looked back at her friend.

  “Always. That’s what it means to be a family.” Emmie’s eyes filled with unshed tears. She could never stand to see anyone cry.

  Ava started to turn away from her. “And that little show you put on just then for the shop owner . . . all bossy: you will do this, you will do that . . . that was amazing. You looked like a McDowell out there if I’ve ever seen one. Silas is rubbing off on you in a good way. My dear sweet friend just stood up to an overbearing shop owner. You did the right thing.”

  Emmie watched her friend’s eyes as she spoke. There was a grave seriousness to her expression. Emmie sucked in a breath as she realized Ava was talking about more than just this dress shopkeeper. She was talking about a different shop owner. She was talking about Mr. Thomas. Someone had filled her in on the details. Emmie’s heart pounded out of rhythm as she went back to that cabin in her mind’s eye. She saw Mr. Thomas lying on the floor. The frying pan. The gunshots.

  Ava’s touch brought her back into focus. She wrapped her friend in a hug and whispered quietly, “You must know, come rain or shine, I’m always here for you too.”

  Emmie could only nod as tears spilled over her cheeks.

  Chapter Eighteen

  By the time they left the fancy dress shop, everyone was composed. Whether it was real or not, Ava was smiling. Jemma and Emmie carried large red boxes tied with thick white ribbon holding their new dresses. The driver that had carted Jemma and Emmie around for the day met them at the door of the dress shop, took their goods, and loaded them in the car. Molly took the front seat and the three girls slipped into the back. Emmie was surprised when the car only drove two blocks before pulling to a stop near a curb. She looked out the window to find they had stopped in front of a beauty salon.

  She turned to Ava. “We made that man drive us and we were only going two blocks?”

  Ava laughed and pulled her friend out of the car. “We had boxes.”

  She looked at Jemma and teased, “Honestly, I could have thrown my box and hit this building. That is ridiculous.”

  Jemma laughed.

  The salon was larger than Emmie thought it would have been. It was luxurious. The walls were painted a deep purple and the beautiful tin ceiling was at least twenty feet tall. Elaborate white painted wooden vanities sat along the walls with tall gold mirrors. On the vanities sat every type of beauty tool you could imagine: brushes, combs, and shiny silver things that looked straight out of a medieval torture chamber.

  “We’ll have the full treatment for my three girls: makeup, hair, nails. They deserve a little pampering,” Molly said to the lady with a perfectly painted face and the highest arched eyebrows Emmie had ever seen. Then the older woman turned to the girls, “The driver is taking me to check on my uncle. He is likely in need of some groceries and a good meal.”

  Emmie took a quick scan of the room. She’d never been to a beauty salon and didn’t really want to start today. “Let me go with you. I’ll be happy to cook something for your uncle.”

  Molly laughed and shook her head. “Go sit down and enjoy it.” She leaned in and whispered, “Surely a girl as brave as you have been lately isn’t afraid of scissors and a brush.”

  Emmie looked at Molly’s face. While she was teasing, she was also serious. Great, it wasn’t only Ava that knew about what she had been up to; Molly knew too. Emmie only nodded, unsure how to reply. She wondered how much of the truth they knew about her past. She didn’t have too much time to think that one over. The girls were quickly ushered to tall chairs and began to be plucked, powdered, and painted. The best part of the treatment was the tray of cheeses, crackers, and cookies the girls nibbled from while they waited to be passed from one person to the next. Silas had sent a message to the salon saying he wouldn’t be home in time for dinner and that they should eat without him. Emmie assumed this was counting as dinner.

  A woman moved Emmie to a tall chair, unpinned her hair and mumbled in a snarky tone, “Look at all of this hair. What are you, a schoolmarm?”

  Emmie jutted out her chin and said, “I hope to be.”

  “Clearly. You’ve already got the perfect hair. With your youth, bone structure, and wide eyes you could be a great beauty, if you got rid of this wild mane. Even these waves could work to your advantage.” The lady’s Chicago accent was thick and she spoke so quickly it was difficult for Emmie to understand her.

  She looked over at Ava for help but her friend was relaxing in a chair with warm towels covering her face. She was completely oblivious to the entire conversation. Emmie opened her mouth to tell the woman that she liked her long, wild mane but never got the chance. As she began to speak she noticed the woman already had a long pair of scissors in her hair.

  “No,” Emmie screamed, but it was far too late. Ten inches of her ebony strands were on the floor.

  Ava sat up and threw the towel off her face. Jemma stood from her chair where her nails were being filed. Both girls watched in horror as Emmie sat there with her hands over her mouth.

  Her hair. Her hair was gone. Half of it now rested above her shoulders. It wasn’t much longer than Silas’s. She looked like a boy. Or half of her did anyway. The other half of her hair was still attached to her head as it should be. Emmie threw herself down from the chair, stumbling as she did so.

  “What were you thinking? You don’t just cut somebody’s hair without asking,” she shouted. “Give. Me. The. Scissors.”

  Everyone in the shop was watching as Emmie lost it. Her eyes welled up with tears. Ava was at her side. Emmie stared at her reflection, turning from one profile view to the other. Old Emmie, New Emmie. Old Emmie, New Emmie. She didn’t ask for this.

  Ava touched her friend’s arm and then ran her hand down the side of her hair with the shorter locks.

  “She just cut my hair off without asking me,” Emmie said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “And she shouldn’t have done that. But the truth is, honey, you look beautiful.” Ava smiled and nodded to the mirror.

  “I’ve not had more than a trim since Mama died. I always do it myself since she’s been gone.” Emmie realized she looked like a mad woman. Who cries over a haircut?

  “I know. But look at this.” Ava reached down to a nearby table and pulled up a magazine. “See, you look just like that model. You are beautiful with short hair.”

  Emmie turned again so she could only see the short side. It was okay she supposed. Change was okay. She looked at Ava’s hair. Then she turned to look at Jemma’s who had now walked over and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Silas loved my long hair. He’s going to hate it,” she mumbled.

  “No. It’s you he carries the torch for . . . not your hair,” Jemma said quietly.

  Emmie nodded. She looked at the mirror straight on and nodded again in silent resolve. Regardless of what she had wanted, it was done. With shaking hands she grabbed a fist full of hair and cut the other half off. When the last ten inches fell to the ground she laid the scissors on the vanity and shook out her shorter locks. After a deep breath she realized how light it felt with the hair gone. Maybe change was good.

  She looked at the hairdresser. “I’m sorry for yelling, but please don’t go any shorter. You can finish now.”

  The lady approached her like one might approach a brown bear in the mountains. Quiet, scared, and with full respect.

  Chapter Nineteen

  He’s going to hate it. He’s going to hate it. He’s going to hate it. Emmie thought to herself as she sat in the back of the car on the way back to meet Silas. Sure, Jemma had told her he wouldn’t mind the new hairstyle, but she couldn’t let it go. Why did she care so much about what he thought? It was her hair, for goodne
ss sake.

  She looked at the buildings in an attempt to recognize where she was but gave up. Emmie wasn’t sure if they were going to meet Silas at his apartment or the office. Molly had gotten hung up with her uncle and had sent a message with their driver that she would meet them later that evening. Emmie had half wondered if that was the truth. Part of her thought Molly may have been letting Ava enjoy a day with friends. She knew a part of her must have hated the way they’d kept Ava quarantined from the public for the past month. She had a feeling Ava was getting a reward for good behavior while Al was away.

  Emmie looked at the two girls. Jemma and Ava looked lovely. Their lips were perfectly painted, their eyebrows were perfectly shaped. They really did look like the flapper models from the magazines in the salon. Emmie felt like she was stuck in someone else’s skin. She kept trying to push her hair behind her ears but it was frozen in place. Rows of perfectly placed waves cascaded down from her crown. Now that it was styled, it hung just above her shoulders. Not since she was a baby had she had hair this short.

  “Wipe that frown off your face, missy,” Ava said to her with a smile.

  “What if he doesn’t like it?”

  “Pish-posh.” Ava waved her hand to dismiss the idea.

  “He always says he likes my hair wild and everywhere. When he kisses me he likes to brush it back from my face. It’s always been such a sweet thing and now he can’t do that.”

  Ava’s face split into what may have been her most honest smile that day. A throaty laugh escaped her as she tried to speak. “Tell me more.”

  “No, please stop right there.” Jemma gave a dramatic frown and put her hand up to stop her from speaking. “I don’t want to hear that conversation go any further.”

  Emmie’s face flamed. “Oh dear, sorry Jemma. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. It’s like I’m turning into her.” Emmie laughed and hitched her thumb toward her best friend.

  “And I couldn’t be prouder. You are going to knock him off his feet. I’m so glad I get to see his reaction,” Ava rambled on and on, but Emmie couldn’t hear her. She was too lost in her own thoughts. With everything else going on in the world, why was she so anxious over her hair? She didn’t hate it, not exactly. She just wasn’t comfortable with it yet.

  The sun was setting and street lamps lit the way as they pulled under the little awning attached to Silas’s apartment building. She glanced at the dress box under her feet. She had to change into that fancy dress. She’d forgotten all about that. Emmie took a deep breath and refocused herself. She looked back at her dress box and her friends, thought about her time that day at the Bell House, and sighed. A word came to mind. Perspective, she needed to put this in perspective. She was blessed with family and friends. Emotions and reactions were a choice. She would choose to be thankful.

  She was surprised to find the apartment empty. Silas must be running late. Emmie made her way to the large windows and looked out at the water. Even at dusk she could spot boats making their way across the lake. She bet Silas loved to watch out this window just like that little boy in the book she had given him. Her face flushed with the memory. She laughed aloud at herself. Maybe it would get him thinking. Maybe it would let him know she was in this for the long haul. They had been through a lot in the past few months, both good and bad. She thought back to Ava’s words, come rain or shine. That’s what family was about and that’s how she felt about Silas too. She smiled, looking out at the water. She loved the little things she was learning about him. Emmie looked around at the beauty of his apartment. It was so modern and fancy. She wondered how important this place was to him. Her heart sank when she realized she had nothing this nice to offer him at home. When he stayed with her he had to pee in a pot or go outside, for goodness sake. Did he feel as out of place in her tiny town as she did in his big city? She’d never thought of that before. If they did stay together long enough for him to read that book to their child, she wondered where he would be reading, in Illinois or Kentucky?

  “Emmie, there’s a note for you,” Jemma said, standing next to a desk in the corner of the room.

  “For me?” she asked, walking over to the girl.

  “Yes, it’s an odd message though. It only says ‘Emmie, If I’m not home in time, answer the phone. S.M.’” Jemma frowned.

  All three girls turned to stare at the fancy phone on the corner of his desk. It looked just like the one she’d seen him on earlier that day at the office. They watched it for a few moments before anyone spoke.

  “I wonder who is going to call and why I am to answer it?” Emmie directed her question to Jemma. She seemed to be the one who knew the most about the events that had been planned for today.

  “Honestly, this wasn’t on the plan,” Jemma said, confused.

  Emmie nodded, accepting her answer, and looked back at the phone anxiously. “Well, you know what they say about a watched pot.”

  The girls looked at her with blank expressions.

  “A watched pot . . . it never boils . . . like the phone,” Emmie tried to explain.

  When the girl’s expressions didn’t change she mumbled, “Never mind.”

  At that moment the phone emitted a shrill ring and all three girls jumped.

  Emmie went for the phone as fast as her hand could make it. She put the receiver to her ear and spoke softly, “Hello.”

  “Hello,” a deep, gruff voice said from the other end.

  “Walter,” Emmie shouted.

  “Yeah, it’s me. You ain’t gotta be yelling at me, girl.” His words were harsh but full of laughter.

  “Sorry, how are you? How are Max and Mae? Any plans for when you’ll be home?” Emmie fired one question after the other at him, so quickly he couldn’t answer before she asked another.

  “Hold your horses there, girl. Let me take a breath for a cotton pickin’ second,” he snapped back.

  Emmie laughed.

  “So, how are you holding up? Are they treating you okay?” he asked, firing off a few questions of his own.

  She assured him she was doing well, but she couldn’t mistake the sound of anxiety in his voice. Walter was worried about her being so far away from home.

  “You talked to Bo?” he asked.

  “No. You’re the first person from home who’s called me. I wrote Bo a letter to check on Spotty, but I haven’t had a chance to get it mailed yet. Have you?” she asked.

  Walter gave a noncommittal grunt. She knew that sound. That meant there was a story there he didn’t want to share.

  “What’s he gotten into now?” she asked with a laugh.

  He grunted again before he spoke. “The way I hear it, you’ve both been into some stuff. Hear you got into a mess of things baking him some pies,” he said, annoyed.

  Mess of things while baking him pies? Oh, no. How did Walter know? Emmie stood frozen unsure how to reply. Especially because she knew anything said over the phone was not likely to be private. Anyone could be listening in.

  “Well, things are better. How’d you know I had a mess when I baked the pies?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

  Ava frowned at her from across the room. “Baking who pies?”

  She silenced her friend with a finger and turned her back to her.

  Walter sighed. “There has been enough ruckus to make me ask some questions.”

  “What do you mean, a ruckus?”

  “You need to talk to your boy,” he said.

  “You know he won’t tell me,” she said.

  “Then find a newspaper,” Walter answered.

  Emmie’s mind thought back to the Kentucky Journal on Silas’s desk. It was the paper she’d hit him with. She’d meant to ask him but forgot. He had told her he needed it when he took it away. What had been put in that paper, and how was it connected to the incident in the cabin?

  “Okay. Does Silas know this is what you are calling to tell me?” she asked curiously. If Silas wanted her to know something was happening at home why didn’t he men
tion it today when she had the newspaper in her hands?

  “No, I don’t guess he does. Silas said he was planning something nice for you today and that I should call at this time. He was real particular about it. He said he knew you missed us,” Walter said quietly. “We miss you too, girl. Come home to us soon. I think Max would like to see you, too.”

  “Is Max still doing okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I suppose.” Walter paused before he added, “Mae keeps up with all that stuff better than me. He’s doing good with that new shoe though. Keeping his balance better.”

  Emmie couldn’t help but feel he was keeping something from her, though. He had stumbled over the answer. It had to be awful watching Max struggle to do things that came so easily to other kids. Walter and Mae were making a huge sacrifice staying up in Louisville away from everything they knew. They were hanging on to the thread of hope that those doctors would give Max a shot at a better life. Emmie admired them. She didn’t want to push the old man to talk about things he didn’t want to.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear he’s walking well. Tell him I’m proud of him and he better be reading each day, okay?”

  A moment of dead air passed as both tried to think of something to say. It was strange to talk to Walter like this on the phone.

  “So, you got any big news to share with me?” Walter asked. He spit out the words like they were fire in his mouth.

  “Um . . . I got my hair cut,” she said unsure how to answer.

  “You ain’t got nothing bigger than a haircut to tell me about?” he asked, annoyed.

  “Ava is getting married sooner than we expected. Maybe within the next few weeks,” she said, making the news sound nothing but happy.

  “Nothing else?”

  “Not that I can think of . . .” she said, confused.

  Walter gave another grunt.

  “Sorry, if I’m being daft here, Walter. Is there something that you were expecting me to say?”

  “You just tell your boy that I ain’t a patient man. I’m expecting some news bigger than a haircut the next time I talk to you,” Walter said. She couldn’t tell if he was teasing.