by Jan Thompson
There it was in a corner beneath the glass counter. The periwinkle agate bead necklace she had wanted for a couple of months.
A hundred and fifty dollars.
Matt Garnett had said he’d save it for her for a few more days.
“Sure thing, Emmeline.” Matt unlocked the cabinet, and lifted the cardboard tray with the bracelet on it. “Would you also like to see a matching bracelet?”
“Yes.” But it was only for a minute. Emmeline knew she couldn’t afford another forty dollars for this. It would be close to two hundred dollars. She needed the money for rent and food.
The necklace and bracelet would have to wait.
“I don’t think I want the necklace anymore, Matt. Thank you for holding it for me.”
“I can put it on layaway if that’ll help you.”
Emmeline shook her head. “I need it tomorrow night but it won’t work out.”
“Friday night? You have a date?” A slight smile. Or was that a sly smile?
“Just dinner at a restaurant. It’s fancier than I’m used to so I kinda have to dress up.”
“That kind of dinner. With someone I know?”
Emmeline hesitated.
“He better treat you right.”
Emmeline didn’t want to say anything more.
“Tell you what, sister.” Matt pushed the tray toward Emmeline. “I’ll let you wear these Friday night if you bring them back Saturday morning.”
“Seriously?”
“I trust you.”
“I don’t trust myself. What if I break them?”
“Just for one night. My offer ends in tens seconds.”
Emmeline closed her eyes. “Wow. Thank You, God.”
When she opened her eyes, the bracelet and necklace were still there. “I’ll take care of them.”
“You’d better. Don’t forget. I want them back first thing Saturday morning. We open at ten.”
“I promise.”
Matt wrapped up the bracelet and the necklace in bubble wrap. Handed them over to Emmeline’s shaking hands. “Want an apple? Fuji this time.”
“Love Fuji.”
“Go on to the back and get yourself one from the fridge.”
“You sure? Don’t want to put you out.”
“Apples are us.” He laughed.
Emmeline went to the small kitchenette. On the refrigerator door was a photo of Matt and his friends.
Emmeline was about to open the refrigerator door when she spotted Sebastian and Ivan in the photo. They were all on a boat of some sort. She didn’t recognize the others, except for Ben and Tristan from church.
Emmeline picked a Fuji apple from the refrigerator. She rinsed it off under the faucet, dried it, and began to eat it. It was juicy and cold.
Walking back through the store, she saw some more things she wished she could afford.
Oh well. Truly, I don’t need much.
Thank You, God, for this apple and the necklace and the bracelet.
“Thanks, Matt!” She waved on her way out.
“Anytime!” Matt was busy with a customer.
Outside, the bright sunshine made her cover her eyes. She checked to make sure her bike was still parked at the bike rack. Yep.
She sat on a bench to finish her apple before she entered Matt’s thrift shop next door, where she made a beeline for the formals. She had to find a black dress for the dinner date. Her first pretend date with Sebastian.
She wondered what he was trying to accomplish with the double date. It could all backfire on both of them. Additionally, she’d be out $9.99 for the black dress unless she found one that she could wear to SISO performances here and at UGA. Then it wouldn’t be a total loss.
When she came out of the thrift shop, Rafferty was leaning against the wall next to her bicycle.
“Are you stalking me?” Emmeline snapped at him.
“You were in there awhile. Long line at the changing rooms?” Rafferty sidled up to her.
“What do you want?”
“That’s a loaded question.”
“Don’t get any ideas. I’m not available.” Emmeline strapped the bungee cord around the plastic bag from the thrift shop and prayed that the wrinkle-free dress was really wrinkle-free. Then again she only had to ride it four blocks back to Scrolls.
“Why? You found yourself a rich boyfriend and now you think I’m trash?”
“Leave me alone, Rafferty.”
“We work together.”
“But we’re not together. Get me?”
“Oh yes, I want to get you.”
“If you keep harassing me, I’m going to talk to Nigel.” Emmeline regretted it the moment the words came out of her mouth. She couldn’t talk to Nigel Miller. She needed that theater job too.
“Speaking of Nigel, heaven is smiling upon us, Emmeline.”
“There is no us. Never was, never is, never will be.”
Rafferty didn’t seem to hear her. “Ryan has the flu. So I’m Mr. Wickham now.”
“No!”
“No, what? No, it’s too bad Ryan has the flu? Or too bad someone else has to play Mr. Collins?”
It’s too bad you’re Wickham. How could she play Lydia Bennet with Rafferty all over her?
“You think I can’t handle it?” Rafferty’s face contorted. “I have two weeks to learn my lines, and I’m pretty good at memorizing. For instance, I memorized your face.”
Emmeline began pushing her bike away from him.
“You need a ride somewhere?” Rafferty asked.
“Can’t you see? I have transportation.”
“We’ll just put that old bike on my flatbed.”
“No need. I have to go back to work. Now get out of the way before I run over you.”
Rafferty threw up his arms. “Suit yourself. See you Monday night at the rehearsal.”
As Emmeline rode away, she tried to think of how she could be sick on Monday night. Or switch roles.
It was too late, really. She had been happy that Nigel had picked her to play Lydia instead of Elizabeth. Now she felt that her involvement in the Theater by the Sea was a mistake altogether. Sure, it was only for the summer. But she had thought she could fend off Raffferty.
Ah, she wished she had more foresight.
Foresight.
She seemed to need foresight in everything including what could be one of the biggest mistakes of her life playing a stand-in girlfriend in what amounted to a reality show for Talia Cavanaugh-Perry.
This was real life. Not a stage play.
Sebastian was delusional to think that lies could bring Talia back to him.
Love has to be based on truth, right?
Chapter Thirteen
By the time Emmeline cycled five miles in the warm Friday afternoon, from the SISO studios to her basement apartment, she was all sweaty and grungy and worn out.
She wished she didn’t have to work three jobs to pay for rent and food. Even when she moved to campus housing in Athens, Georgia, in early August, she’d still have to work at least two jobs to supplement her partial scholarships to UGA.
If she sent another harp demo CD to a few more organizations, she might get more scholarships that might take care of the rest of her schooling. If she could get out of grad school without any student loans, she’d be better off.
Somehow she had to support herself the rest of her life. No double-income family situations for her in sight.
Sometimes God calls us to live alone.
She unlocked the door to her apartment and pushed her bicycle into her one-room hovel. She took off her helmet to air out her matted hair. The old used bicycle was her only transportation at the moment. She had to rely on friends to transport her harp.
Sooner or later she would have to buy a vehicle even though Skye and several other church friends had volunteered to help her move to Athens. Matt Garnett had offered one of his cargo vans to carry her small amount of furniture, and he didn’t want money for gas.
It’s nice to ha
ve friends.
She locked the door, turned around, and saw the vase of flowers on her small folding card table that doubled up as everything, from her dining table to her writing desk. She picked up the card at the base of the vase.
It was from Sebastian.
How does it feel to get flowers from a fake boyfriend?
Emmeline sighed. If she felt anything at all for Sebastian, it was pity. And here he was sending her flowers. For what? The card didn’t say. That was a good thing because the landlady’s son had undoubtedly read it.
Aarrgghh.
It made her mad that he had the keys to her apartment. She made her rounds around the studio apartment to make sure Bart wasn’t hiding behind curtains before she undressed to take a quick shower.
To be sure, she locked her bathroom door.
The phone call came while she was still in the shower. She sort of heard her cell rang but ignored it. Next thing she knew there was a knock on the door.
It startled Emmeline and put her into a frenzy because she had barely gotten out of the bathroom and was still wrapped in a towel. She threw on her black dress—thank God it was really wrinkle-free—and ran to the door, damp towel around her hair. She peeked out the keyhole.
And had to let him in.
“Sorry I’m early.” Sebastian stepped into Emmeline’s space.
He was wearing a pressed oxford shirt that looked like it was made of silk. His pants were charcoal and hung over polished shoes. He was too rich for her hole in the ground.
He stared at her bare feet. Emmeline felt self-conscious, especially since she knew her nail polish wasn’t as shiny as the first day she had painted them on her toenails.
“I wanted to sit in the car and wait but some guy was staring at me from the balcony upstairs,” he said.
“Bart, the landlady’s son.”
“He lives on top of you?”
“Directly.” Emmeline wished she could afford a better apartment, but the landlady had given her a great deal.
A bad deal, perhaps.
“Let’s hope he’s not a peeping tom.” Sebastian folded his arms.
Emmeline shuddered. “I think he’s harmless.”
“What you think and what he is are two different things.”
“Like the play we’re putting on for Talia?”
Sebastian dipped both hands into his trouser pockets.
Emmeline wondered if he was nervous. He had folded his arms, and now he hid his hands.
Okay, I’m just reading too much into this. “Have a seat somewhere. I’ll be ready in a minute. Have to dry my hair.”
Sebastian stepped toward her card table. “I see you received my flowers.”
“They’re lovely. Thank you.”
“You don’t like roses?”
In the bathroom, door opened so she could hear him, Emmeline unwrapped the towel from her hair and shook out her curls. “Must you read meanings into everything. I said the flowers are lovely.”
“But you prefer something else.”
“How did you figure that?” Really! “What I prefer is my own business.”
“So there is a wall between us,” Sebastian concluded.
Emmeline stepped out of the bathroom. “There will always be a wall between us. We’re not exactly friends. Our only connection is your sister, Skye.”
Sebastian looked hurt. “We could be friends.”
“It’s best that we don’t.” Emmeline slid into her favorite pair of strapped sandals. She wished she had bought two pairs of those when they went on sale at Walmart. Oh well.
Emmeline felt she had gotten a good deal. Ten dollars for her black dress that modestly covered her calves so she didn’t have to wear knee highs. And borrowed stone necklace to make her look pretty and all.
Sebastian pointed to her necklace and bracelet. “You like lavender.”
“Periwinkle.”
“It goes well with your dress.”
“Thank you. I’m ready to go.”
Emmeline locked the front door, wondering what that was for since Bart could enter it anytime he wanted. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gone through her things.
Someday she’d own her own house and no one else could get in.
She was aware that Sebastian was standing next to her, watching her lock the door. She tried not to be self-conscious. Years of having been on stage productions has taught her to allay those butterflies in her stomach.
This was only a play. Nothing more, yes?
She followed Sebastian to his car.
“Have a nice evening, Miss Emmeline!” The rough voice came from above their heads.
There was Bart, leaning over the rusty railings upstairs in his house robes. His hairy legs were sticking out as if the robe was all he had on.
“Thank you, Bart,” Emmeline said.
“Nice car there. I’ve always wanted a Beemer.”
Sebastian didn’t respond to Bart. He opened the car door for Emmeline. Then he hurried to the driver’s side as if he couldn’t wait to get out of there. He backed out the car over the cracked and uneven driveway.
Emmeline watched him, wondering what he was thinking.
“How could you live there?” Sebastian finally asked as they turned onto Frederica Road.
“The rent is dirt cheap.”
“The company is dirt.”
“Not your worry, is it?” Emmeline thought of her borrowed necklace and bracelet, the thrift shop dress, the Walmart sandals that looked like fake leather, and the hand-me-down purse that had a torn inner lining.
“I have a bad feeling about Bart.”
“He’s pretty helpful, really. Carries my harp to the van. He even fixed my van.”
Sebastian chuckled. “The one that died?”
“He seemed to know what he was doing.”
“How do you know he didn’t break it?”
“Haha.”
“I’m worried for you, Em.”
“Don’t worry about me. It’s not your concern. I help you with Talia, you help me with my brother. And we’re done.”
“Speaking of Talia, I was trying to merge your schedule with mine, and I tell you, you’re everywhere.”
“What do you mean?”
Sebastian turned toward Emmeline as they stopped at a red light. “Your schedule is like a pile of laundry.”
“What? Are you running my life now?” Emmeline asked.
“Let’s see. You have four part-time jobs, no healthcare, no guarantees.”
“Four? I have four jobs?”
“Em, I’m serious here.”
Emmeline knew he was, but this was her life. She had come to St. Simon’s Island for the music librarian job. It had begun as an hourly job until the budget cuts over Christmas.
So she picked up the shelving job at Scrolls and roles at the Theater by the Sea to pick up the slack. It filled in her gaps in pay, but someday this multiple-job life had to stop.
As for wedding music, she wanted to do it, though it didn’t pay much. It paid more than her infrequent participation in the Seaside Chapel orchestra which didn’t pay anything.
So, yes, four part time jobs.
But what does it matter to Sebastian?
“I do what I can. I’m a harpist. I can’t get a full-time job as a musician on St. Simon’s. If I were playing some other instruments, and at the upcoming SISO Hall, then maybe I might get a small salary. But the concert hall has been delayed yet again.”
“Couldn’t you teach harp? Maybe you’ll get a more stable income that way?”
“I’m leaving in August. There’s no time to set up a studio.”
Sebastian didn’t say anything as he drove on Sea Island Road to get to the F. J. Torras Causeway.
“When does the semester start?” He finally asked.
“August seventeenth, but I’ll get there a couple of weeks early to find a roommate and rent an apartment. I’ll probably skip orientation since this is not my first time at UGA.”
&nb
sp; “What if I still need you after you’re out of here?”
“What do you mean?”
“If Talia and I… you know.”
“I suppose we could keep up appearances. As soon as you’re back in her good graces, the project is over, right?”
“It could take a while.”
“We’ll need a deadline. How about by the end of the year?”
“Fair enough. And your brother?”
“We’ll be all right. God will help us find him if he wants to be found. Considering how long I’ve been looking for him, the trails have all gone cold.”
They drove in silence over rivers and tributaries. Ocean Highway took them to Jekyll Island.
Emmeline had nothing to say to Sebastian. She thought that he didn’t wish to talk. He seemed to be deep in thought about something.
Then: “You seem to be accepting of things, Emmeline.”
“Accepting of things? What does that even mean?” Emmeline sat very still in the plush leather seat.
All those years of acting classes had taught her to keep a part of herself closed to the world, and here was Sebastian probing. What was he doing?
“Such is life. It is the way it is,” Sebastian explained. “That sort of acceptance.”
“You read me wrong, Sebastian. More than anything in this world, I want to find my brother. I am determined to find him. He might not know the Lord and I want him to see that God loves him, that he doesn’t have to be alone in this world, foraging here and there. I want him to come home. Come home to our parents and to me and to family. So do I question if things could be better? All the time.”
“What about being married and having kids?”
Emmeline laughed. “I’m pretty confident that God wants me to be single the rest of my life.”
“Such is life?”
“Such is life.”
“I rest my case, Em.”
Chapter Fourteen
Sebastian did not like the way Jared Urquhart ogled Emmeline at all. He didn’t know why he felt protective of her, but he did.
It was the same feeling he had when Rafferty accosted Emmeline in the SISO music library on Monday and earlier this evening when her landlady’s son paraded himself in his bathrobe above her apartment.
