Shine On (15 page)

E
mmie walked over to the vase. It was filled with a beautiful mix of wildflowers. Yellows, oranges and greens spilled out of the clear glass into a late summer rainbow. It was beautiful and organic. The smell was earthy and fresh. This was certainly going to make her day better here at the shop. She tried not to get her hopes up as she pulled open the small card, but really, who else would have brought her flowers?

She inwardly screamed and wanted to dance around when she read the note.

“Dear Emmie, I saw these as I was leaving the house today and thought of you. Hope they made you smile… sorry I wasn’t there to see it. Maybe you’ll save a smile for me at dinner tonight? Ava’s house 6:30 pm. Yours, S. M.”

She read the note, once, twice, maybe a hundred times before she returned it to the envelope. She closed her eyes and lifted the vase up to her nose again taking in the beauty.

“Uh hum,” Mr. Thomas cleared his throat behind her.

She spun around, the card flying out of her hand in the process. Mr. Thomas bent to pick it up. He obviously read the card… he didn’t even try to hide it. As his long willowy arm stretched out to hand it to her, his face went sour.

“Time is money, Emmie,” he said, indicating she needed to be busy.

She turned and put the vase on a table in the side room.

“I really don’t have room for that. I don’t want to risk a water stain on my furniture,” he said, pointing at the table.

She walked over and moved them to the floor near her chair.

“Really, Emmie. Those ugly weeds are right in the way. We may trip over them,” he huffed.

“Where would you like me to put them, Mr. Thomas?” she asked because she could tell he was in one of his moods.

“S.M. Is that Silas McDowell?” he asked, arching a brow.

“It is really not any of your concern, Mr. Thomas,” she said, putting the card in her purse.

“A woman brought them in this morning. He probably didn’t even pick them for you,” he said. “You know you cannot trust him”

Emmie refused to talk to him about this.

“Where shall I put them, Mr. Thomas?” She held her shoulders high.

“Outside,” he said with a smile. “They may aggravate customers’ allergies. We wouldn’t want that.”

She rolled her eyes. “I cannot put them outside, they’ll wilt.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “That is not my problem. I guess you could take them home. But I know you need the money. Time is money, my Emma, and I’m already going to have to dock your pay, as you have been here fifteen minutes and not even started working.”

Her mouth fell open. What a jerk. “Fine. I’ll be back and you can dock whatever you like.”

She grabbed the flowers and headed out the door. Mr. Thomas was right, she needed the money. He knew she wouldn’t take the fifty minutes it would take to walk home and back. What he didn’t count on was she could walk to the law firm and back in fifteen minutes. The flowers would keep there as well as they would in the store and she may even take a little time to say a proper thank you to Silas.

***********

“Miss Emmie,” the young receptionist smiled. “Didn’t you just love your flowers? If that wasn’t just the sweetest thing. He had me run them over this morning before he headed into his meeting.” She smiled and leaned forward to confide in her, “He was pretty hush-hush about it too.”

Emmie smiled. “Is he still in his meeting? I’d like to say thank you.” And… tell him what a jerk Mr. Thomas was being. She knew that was immature but she wanted to complain and knew he’d be more than willing to listen.

“Let me just call up and check.” The other woman actually winked as she picked up the phone.

After a quick conversation she ushered Emmie to a small waiting room on the first floor. Silas walked in with a shy smile. He pulled Emmie up and brushed a quick kiss on her temple.

“Did you like them?” he asked.

“They are lovely,” she smiled.

He glanced at the vase on the table, then back at her confused. “Is something wrong?”

She rolled her eyes. “Mr. Thomas made up some excuse for why I can’t have them. He’s just jealous. I was hoping I could keep them here until after I’ve gotten off work.”

Silas looked annoyed but only shook his head. “Yes, I’ll have Victoria keep them at the front desk and bring them to you at dinner tonight.”

Emmie agreed and volunteered to cook the meal that night at Ava’s house. By the time she got back to the shop she had been gone a total of twenty-five minutes. Will, Mr. Thomas’s brother, was at the register taking care of a customer. Mr. Thomas crept close to Emmie, so no one could hear his words.

“That will be a total of forty minutes docked, Emmie. Now, if you would like to work through lunch or stay late to make it up, you may.” He walked over and touched her shoulder. “Because you know I am always too lenient with you.” Mr. Thomas smiled like he had offered her a new car.

“I’m sorry. I have plans. Thanks anyway.” She turned away from him without waiting for his reaction. Then she sat in her chair to begin a project for a new baby. Luckily the work was quite intricate and took concentration. When Gabe arrived at noon to pick her up for the trip to the jewelry store, she hadn’t even realized it was lunchtime. Emmie grabbed an apple out of her purse and ate it as they walked to Moore’s Jewelers.

Gabe offered to take her to a restaurant as a thank you for the help but she didn’t have time. He really wasn’t so bad once she got a chance to actually talk to him. Their conversation was easy and comfortable. Even the silent parts, which she always thought was a good sign. If you can’t be comfortable with folks in the stillness of the conversation, something is wrong.

“So, do you want to give me any parameters?” she asked, walking up to one of the two long cases that lined the wall of the store.

Gabe shrugged, “Nope, just as long as she likes it… it works for me.”

Emmie had never been in this store but always wanted to know what it was like inside. She scanned the cases for the perfect ring. She felt like a raccoon, her fingers itched to touch all the sparkly things encased in glass. A small balding man walked up to them and offered his assistance. She was surprised that he let her try on different rings to see the “whole picture” as he kept calling it. They looked at many beautiful rings but none of them felt like Ava. When Emmie was just about to suggest they call it quits for the day she saw it in the very top shelf of the farthest case. It was the sort of ring that made you ask, “Is that too much?” As soon as the question popped in her head… she knew they’d found the one.

It was a platinum band with a brilliant center-cut diamond. Smaller emerald-cut diamonds were set against the side and tiny round diamonds snaked around the whole set forming a large wavy line. On Emmie’s finger it took up nearly the entire area from knuckle to finger joint. But it was perfect for Ava. Even Gabe whistled as he saw it. And then… he almost fell over when he saw the price tag.

“Really Gabe, there are a lot of lovely rings here, if this is too much,” Emmie assured him. She knew Ava wouldn’t mind.

“No, this one is really her. I’ll just get my dad to wire some money from my bank account in Chicago,” he answered.

Emmie wondered what that would be like… to run out of money and just have it wired to you from somewhere else. She wasn’t jealous exactly, just curious.

He walked her back to the shop on his way to the bank. Gabe thanked her again two or three times for her help. He was so anxious. Emmie nearly asked again how he planned to pop the question, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about that. It wasn’t really her business anyway, so she didn’t push.

When Emmie walked back into the store, Will met her in one of the aisles.

“Hey Emmie, come here,” he whispered.

She followed him to a trash bin in the storage room without talking. She peeked over into the can and saw a fresh bouquet of white and green flowers dumped in the bottom. There was a hothouse tag from Deema’s Florist. She looked up at Will with an arched eyebrow.

He leaned, over picked a card out of the wastebasket and handed it to her without saying a word.

Maybe Silas had sent her another bouquet?

“My Dear Paul, Emmie mentioned you were jealous of the flowers I picked for her this morning. My sincerest apologies for excluding you. I never meant to hurt your feelings. So, I’ve sent you some of your own. - S.M.”

Chapter Twenty-four

E
mmie had never in her whole life been so glad to see the end of a workday. She could not get out of that tense air fast enough. Of course, Mr. Thomas had never admitted to the note or flowers. It was just that every direction or question he asked was belittling and his voice was laced with sarcasm. Not just with her, with everyone: his brother, customers, deliverymen—it didn’t matter, everyone was treated the same.

When Emmie reached her house it dawned on her that she had volunteered to cook for all her friends, which she didn’t mind doing in the least. However, she knew for a fact that Ava’s house would have no groceries and she was expected to cook for three grown men and two women. Emmie dug around her house and tried to find enough odds and ends that would work together to form a meal. She’d just paid this month’s mortgage and unfortunately she was going to be cutting it pretty tight the rest of the month, so there was no money for an extra shopping trip.

After scrapping around in her cupboard and pantry, she was pretty pleased with her loot. She had plenty of beans, salted bacon, butter, eggs, and all the dry goods she needed for cornbread. She loaded a crate with groceries and an old iron skillet. Emmie ran upstairs and pinned up her hair, changed clothes, and then headed out the door. The dog followed closely behind her.

When she rounded the corner of the road leading to Ava’s, she could feel the heavy wooden crate biting into her fingers. She should have called someone to pick her up. By the time she reached the driveway she was sure she had blisters, but it was only after dropping the crate on the porch that she actually noticed they had already formed and popped, leaving behind ugly red scrapes in her skin. She flexed and released her fingers while she waited for someone to come to the door. Spotty took his favorite spot under the chair.

It was Trick who answered. All at once the conversation with Gabe flew through her mind. This is who Ava had picked out for her… and set her up to meet… in her underwear at the pool. Shades of humiliation burned in her cheeks. She tried to give him a polite smile but was struggling severely.

“Emmie.” He bent down, scooped up the crate with one arm, and led her into the house with the other. “Are you alright? Your face is burnin’ up. You should have called me to pick you up instead of carrying this.” His genuine concern made her feel even more embarrassed.

“I’m fine. If you’d just carry that into the kitchen for me. I told Silas that I’d cook supper tonight.” She tried to turn the conversation away from her blush.

Trick looked down at the contents of the crate. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be great, Emmie. Nothing like a good skillet,” he said, pulling it out of the box confused.

Ava walked through the swinging door of the kitchen right on cue, “I have pots and pans. That must have been ridiculously heavy.”

Emmie felt a bipolar range of emotions. She honest to goodness didn’t know whether to tear into her friend for the matchmaking pool shenanigans or dance around her about the awaiting proposal. Unfortunately, she couldn’t do either. However, as soon as this was all out in the air… until then she would just have to pretend.

“You know I can’t cook cornbread without Mama’s skillet,” Emmie said, continuing to unload.

As soon as the heavy cooking started Trick excused himself from the room. Apparently he needed to go make some phone calls. Ava offered to help but her services ended up being limited to boiling a pot of water for tea and bringing Emmie a ridiculously fancy apron to wear. It was one Ava’s mother had made for Ava in an effort to entice her into the kitchen. Even a frilly apron couldn’t do the trick. Emmie boiled the beans in some water and stock, adding a good bit of salt, pepper and spices. Then she set her sights on the cornbread. This is why she lugged the heavy skillet… to make cornbread in anything other than an iron skillet was blasphemy to Emmie’s mother. It was a tradition that had been ingrained in her since she was old enough to mix cornmeal and flour. She got the skillet piping hot in the oven then set it on a warm burner on the stove to melt the butter. When the butter had just started to pop she added the cornbread batter. She loved the way it sizzled and rolled slowly across the pan. Whenever she made cornbread, she could feel her mother surrounding her. The sizzling, the smells, the warmth—that’s what made it one of her favorite things to cook.

After popping the cornbread in the oven, stirring the sugar in the tea, and giving the beans a final stir, she ran upstairs to double check her hair and borrow a bit of Ava’s powder. She did not want to look like a sweaty pig when Silas arrived. When she made it back downstairs, she pulled the cornbread out of the oven to cool and set her sights on washing the dirty dishes. Over the sound of sloshing water she heard someone sit a heavy glass on the counter next to her. Her first thought was Ava had returned to help but when two arms snaked around her waist, she felt her breath catch in her throat.