by Barbara Lohr
“Shhh. Please. Hold it down. We have customers,” Maisy moaned behind her. “And you are going to make me lose my job.”
Emily gave her a silent stare. “Probably a good thing, right?’
The girl’s face cleared. “Yes.” Turning, Maisy left Victoria to her fate.
As she rapped on the door again with a curled fist, Emily heard her mother in her head. “Remember, Emily dear. A lady always makes a quiet appearance.”
Sorry, Mama. I’ve reached my limit.
“Open up,” she hissed. “Or I will really make a fuss and scare all your customers away.”
The door swung open. Victoria stood there, eyes red and her green apron on crooked. This was a different woman from the night before. “What do you want?”
Emily fought the urge to smack her. Victoria hiccupped.
“How can I work when you are carrying on?”
Well, that was a white lie and Emily crossed her fingers behind her back.
“Why should I care about that?” Grabbing a tissue from the box on the toilet, Victoria jabbed at her nose.
This sure wasn’t the same woman who’d lorded it over the open house the night before. “What happened to you?” Emily’s heart melted just a little bit.
Propping one hip against the sink, Victoria stared at her. Tears welled from her eyes as if they were plugged directly into the rain spout outside. “Follow me.” She shoved off from the sink and headed down the hall. Emily followed.
When they reached the back kitchen area, Victoria spun into the glaringly shiny new space and twirled around. Clearly the girl had lost her mind. “See all this?”
Emily looked around, pretending this was all new to her. That she hadn’t been peeking through the window every chance she got. Any woman would give her grandmother’s recipe for sweet tea to have all these high end appliances and gadgets at her disposal. Why, Victoria even had one of those adjustable pot filler faucets stationed above her stove.
“Yes, yes I do. I see all the stuff. I’m sure you’re very proud.” Heck, Emily was lucky to have a slow cooker and a roasting pan. Victoria was just trying to make her feel bad.
Stretching out her long arms to either side, Victoria leaned against the butcher block table. “Well, I don’t know how to use any of this. And my daddy’s going to kill me when he realizes that.”
Here she whirled around, dropped her head into her hands and began to wail.
Emily closed the door. What should she do? She approached Victoria like she was a piece of fine china shattered on the subway tile floor. “Of course he won’t kill you, Victoria. He’s your daddy.”
The man she’d seen holding court the night before had been pretty darn proud of his little girl.
“No, he’s going to kill me. I’m such a failure.” Her expression glum, she looked around. “I don’t know how to do any of this, but Daddy doesn’t know that. Why, I can’t even boil water, much less turn out baked goods. The only cookies I ever baked came from a tube. I sliced them off.” She began to laugh hysterically.
Emily would do anything to make her stop. She drew closer. “Fathers love us, even when we fall flat on our faces.” Her father had been great as she’d stumbled from one part time job to another after college. His faith in her had never faltered.
Victoria didn’t seem to hold that confidence in her dad. “Maybe your father would still love you, Emily. Not mine.”
“What about your mother?” Victoria’s mother had been a tall, cool presence the night before. Mrs. Pomeroy dressed in elegant clothes, and she’d probably had work done. Everyone knew a forehead without a wrinkle was a forehead you couldn’t trust.
Victoria was in deep trouble. Emily could hardly believe this but she was giving her a hug. The girl was trembling. “Stop now, Victoria. Stop.” Then it hit her.
Victoria Pomeroy was a child. Twenty-two years old and she hadn’t learned that sometimes life can hand you cold grits.
“Easy for you to say.” Victoria snatched another tissue. “You can do anything. Move back to town and have friends waiting for you. Write your own blog.” And she gave that word a punch that Emily felt in her gut.
Victoria seemed to know an awful lot about Emily’s life. But that was a minor point right now. She was a hot mess and Emily felt bad for her.
“My father expects me to handle all this.” And she waved a hand around the kitchen, as if all this gorgeous equipment deeply offended her.
“You mean, he expects you to bake and cook?”
“Exactly. He’s the one who thought up Victoria’s Pantry.” More sniveling. But the tears seemed to be slowing. Out front the bell kept jingling. Victoria shuddered with each ring of that bell.
“You mean you never intended to cook any of the things you’re selling?”
Who knew Victoria could blow out such a full raspberry? “Really, Emily? Do I look like a cook? My mother’s ideas of cooking was handing Maribelle a menu.”
Emily’s mind galloped ahead. “So you have no family recipes?”
“You’re not listening to me.” That truculent frown was back. “I have nothing. This wasn’t my mother’s area of expertise––her own words. Daddy complained that she even made terrible coffee.”
The problem was worse than anything Emily could have imagined. “I have recipes.” The words were out before she could think.
“And? You know what to do with them?”
She glanced around. Her mind was spinning. “You had vendors bring the food for the party. We all loved it. Sell the bread and the pastries...as theirs. You’re a pantry not a bakery.”
Victoria’s eyes cleared. “Why, of course.”
Emily was on a roll. After all, she had taken a few marketing classes. “Work out a discounted contract with them.”
Victoria began opening and closing drawers. “Where is a pen when I need one?”
“I’ll email you this list and bring down some recipes. You know, coconut cake and peach pies.” Ideas kept flowing. “You could offer free sweet tea. Put up a couple of small tables with chairs. Your store has space.”
“Brilliant.” Victoria was glowing.
“I have some wonderful grain salads. They’d work great here. You can read a recipe, can’t you?”
Victoria sniffed. “Do I look that stupid, Emily? Of course I can.”
“I’ve been thinking of pulling together healthy snacks. You know, lots of oatmeal, dried fruit and nuts. Healthy. I’ll brand them and we can sell them in your store.”
“We?” Then she squinched her lips to one side and threw Emily a guilty look. “I suppose I could be nicer to you. After all you’re saving my bacon.”
Emily was so startled by this admission that she burst out laughing. And Victoria joined right in. Then she settled back with a sigh.
Outside, the storm had passed, and the sun shone through the kitchen window. Finches flitted through the branches of a cherry tree that had just started to bloom.
Time to leave. “I’ll go upstairs and copy my recipes. You can see which ones you can handle.” She opened the door to the kitchen and peeked to the front. Maisy gave her a thumbs up.
When she turned back, Victoria was giving her a guarded glance. “I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me.”
Emily smiled sheepishly. “Maybe I just don’t want to hear someone crying right below me. The noise disturbs my concentration.”
Okay. Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned that. Victoria’s hand went to her gaping mouth. “Are you kidding me?”
“Of course.” Emily crossed the fingers of one hand. She sure hoped it didn’t freeze like that. “Why shouldn’t I be nice to you?”
“Jackson.”
Just hearing the name made her heart ache. “What are you saying?”
Victoria’s attention fell to her designer shoes. “You may not have noticed. I wanted it to look like we were seeing each other. Don’t I just wish. But no way.” Amazement lifted her voice more than usual at the end. As if she couldn�
�t believe it.
The news made Emily want to hug her.
She wanted to hear more, every detail. “What are you talking about?”
“My father set me up with Jackson Hart. Pointed him out at a Chamber get together. And sure, he agreed to help me pull this together. Jackson is the one who knew all the vendors. He lined up the contractors. He owns a lot of those companies. So he did all this. Not that I thanked him for it.”
While Emily’s heart soared, Victoria gave a little sigh and leaned closer. Her eyes darted to the door to make sure Maisy was occupied. That bell kept ringing. “Sometimes I can be a real witch.”
“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself.” Had she really said that?
But back to Jackson. “So you and Jackson...”
Victoria shook her head. “Never,” she said with regret. “He was nice to me. I guess he kind of had to be. You know, daddy and all. But after that time in the hardware store? Jackson was a goner. He might as well have taken the train to New Orleans.”
A bubble of ridiculous happiness exploded in Emily’s chest.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Victoria said with a little girl giggle. “You mean you really didn’t know?”
Emily shook her head. Now it was her turn to be speechless.
Victoria could be beautiful when she smiled. “Now go get those recipes.” She glanced around. “I’ve got work to do.” Fingering the top of her green apple mixer, she said, “Now how do you turn this thing on?”
Surprised that she could even feel her feet, Emily stepped forward. “The button’s on the side.”
Victoria waved her away. “Kidding! Just kidding I’m not that lame.”
Now it was Emily’s turn to feel embarrassed.
She floated all the way upstairs.
But what was she going to do about this?
***
Three days later, Emily was standing in front of the gazebo, a sign in the grass at her feet. Since the evening was cool, she was wearing a sweater over her new yellow sundress patterned with bright red poppies. But she still shivered.
What if this didn’t work?
She was risking everything.
But isn’t that what people do for love?
People filtered over to the bar and light buffet. A microphone was set up. The chairman of the Chamber of Commerce would probably welcome everyone to this spring mixer. She hoped the timing worked. So much depended on Jackson showing up. Emily didn’t want to make an idiot of herself for nothing. Victoria had helped her with the details. Looking up, she nodded to Victoria, who stood at the console with Josie and Bryn.
This whole plan had sent her friends into gales of laughter when she’d explained it on their last walk together.
“Bold,” Josie had said after Emily outlined Victoria’s idea.
“Oh, my word,” Bryn’s mouth opened and closed, like she was reaching for words. “You and Victoria worked this out together?”
Emily nodded. “Pretty amazing, right?”
“Why didn’t you just let her fail?” Bryn asked.
“Now, you know we’re not like that. Women have to stick together. Provide support for each other. Her parents aren’t easy to handle and Victoria’s young.”
Josie snorted. “Right, like that’s a pass to be a witch on wheels.”
“But she isn’t,” Emily said softly, amazed at herself. “Sure, like most of us, she can put on a good front. But sometimes, I think she feels like a scared little girl inside.”
Bryn’s eyes softened. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”
Josie didn’t say anything. She didn’t look convinced.
“The Pantry’s doing better every day,” Emily told them. “The transition seemed seamless. All the suppliers are onboard. I don't know if it’s occurred to anyone that Victoria’s Pantry wasn’t offering food made by Victoria herself.”
“What about all those grain salads she’s serving?” Bryn asked. “Aren’t they yours?”
Emily nodded. “And that’s just the beginning. I’m coming out with healthy treats from Healthy Eating, Better Life. We’ll sell them through Victoria’s Pantry. My website is booming and so is my Facebook page.”
Tonight her friends were backup for Victoria, just in case she couldn’t handle that sound system. Anyone who had a business was at the Chamber dance tonight. Music played softly in the background. Summer was on its way. Anticipation trembled in the air. For her, tonight could be wonderful, or it might be a crushing disappointment.
Sometimes you have to risk it all. The other men she’d dated paled in comparison to Jackson. Emily saw that now. She’d never wanted a man in her life as much as she wanted Jackson Hart, her old friend. Forever.
Emily’s stomach was doing cartwheels. Tonight made a panic attack feel like the kiddie roller coaster. At least the evening was cool. No heat to make her crazy. Sure, there were some curious looks. A couple of guys had approached her with that are-you-new-here look in their eyes. She’d politely sent them packing.
She was finished with all that. Finished with meeting new men. Finished with searching. At least, she sure hoped she was.
No, it wasn’t a new man that she wanted. She wanted her old friend. If he’d have her. If she didn’t screw this up.
Her eyes swept the crowd.
Overhead, wisteria had climbed some of the live oaks and was in full bloom. The scent perfumed the air. A cooling breeze swept up from the marina. But it didn’t have a calming effect. She was a nervous wreck. And she was ready to make a total idiot of herself.
“Emily,” Victoria hissed from the bandstand. She jerked her head in the direction of the path.
She turned. Head down, Jackson sauntered up the walk, looking as if he didn’t want to be here. Emily had never seen him look so down and her heart squeezed. Maybe this wasn’t a good time. He looked terrible.
“Now or never.” Victoria sounded frustrated.
Who could blame her? She’d helped Emily set this up. Jackson was supposed to meet her father here tonight. “And if he hadn’t been such a sad sack lately, he would know that meeting Daddy here was total nonsense,” Victoria had said, as if exasperated at Jackson’s stupidity.
When Victoria turned, she really turned.
Now was the time. Emily had to step into this moment.
He was close. She pulled up the sign. Okay, she was getting strange looks. All of a sudden, “I Will Always Love You” came on, and Dolly Parton had never sounded better. Everyone was looking around, including Jackson.
When he glanced over and saw her, Emily thought she might faint.
Now or never. Oh, please, please.
Lips moving, he read the sign.
Please don’t walk away.
Biting his lower lip, he ambled over. His shoulders straightened. That roll in his walk was the old Jackson, but his expression was unreadable. Overhead, the trees rustled. Everyone seemed to hold their breath. Or maybe she was dreaming.
As Jackson drew closer, he muttered, “Princess, when you make a point, you go big.”
Taking the sign from her hands, which was a very good thing because she was about to drop it, he said. “Come here, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart? “Oh, Jackson.”
She melted. His arms closed around her.
“Of course I choose you. Always,” he whispered into her hair.
Emily wound her arms around his neck. That wonderful soap scent washed over her when his lips found hers. At that moment, everything seemed to come together. Foreheads touching, they swayed to the music. While he eased her down the walkway, Jackson kept whispering, telling her what their future would be like together.
“So why didn’t you tell me all this before?” she asked.
His laugh blew a wisp of hair across her cheek. “You think you would have heard me? Timing is everything. I’m a patient man.”
“I’ve been an idiot. Oh Jackson, it took time for me to see.”
“That’s an understatement.” As he moved her around
to the music, she felt Victoria’s eyes on her. Josie and Bryn also had them in their sights, although they tried to look casual, peeking around the verbena bushes. Bryn wiped a tear from her eye.
“Are we making a spectacle of ourselves?”
“Who cares?” he said, squeezing her hand tighter. “I’ve waited fifteen years for this.”
Now what girl doesn’t want to hear that?
“You weren’t exactly honest with me. Why didn’t you tell me that you owned Coastal Enterprises? And all the rest of those companies too.” Her mind blanked on the names on those trucks.
“What, and miss the chance to be your handyman?” He trailed his lips across her cheek. “Oh, no. Besides, I wanted you to like me, to love me, for myself, Princess. Not for what I had. Especially when I heard you were done with successful men who had no heart. Trust me, I’ve had enough of that since I went into business with Victor.”
“You poor guy, all those beautiful women throwing themselves at you and your Porsche.”
Even in the gathering darkness she could see his flushed cheeks. That much hadn’t changed. “So it’s true!” The thought humbled her. Women had been after her Jackson, probably in droves.
His smile was back. “It was hard to handle. I had to beat them off.”
“Oh, you.” She poked him in the ribs.
Grabbing her hand, he tucked it over his heart. “This is what I wanted, Emily. To be your punching bag again. To kid around with you. Share jokes. Work on projects together.” He nuzzled her ear. By now they were behind a huge oleander bush that was just about to bloom.
“What if I wanted to do more than kid around?” she asked. “What if, say, Sasha wanted to meet Midnight?”
Another uproarious laugh. “I think that can be arranged. With time, anything can happen. I hope you’ll never want to bake cookies for another guy, ever.”
How she loved hearing that. “Hmm. What if say a little guy comes along and wants to bake cookies with me?”
Jackson stopped. They were near the fountain and all she could hear was the rush of water and her own beating heart. “Have I gone too far?”
