Beg, Borrow, or Steal (When in Rome, #3)(85)
Mabel pats my back affectionately. “Now listen, it’s not as bad as all that. But I want to tell you something about Emily. Something I’ve never told anyone, and I’ll deny it until the day I die as well as call you a liar if you ever tell a single soul . . .”
I look at her, but she seems to be waiting for some kind of reassurance. “I promise I won’t repeat it.”
She nods firmly. “I love those Walker kids. But I like Emily the most.” Her smile glows with tenderness. “She’s tenacious, strong-willed, protective, and has a well of empathy inside her heart that I’m yet to find the bottom of. When I look at her, sometimes I see myself. And because of that, I know that Emily is probably scared to death of you.”
“Of me?” I ask, having a hard time picturing the Emily who has fought with me for over a decade the least bit scared of me.
“When I met my late husband, oh lordy, I was terrified of him. I’d lost a lot of people I loved in my day, and I couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. I tried and tried to push him away so I could lose him on my own terms. Thought that would be easier. But that sorry fool.” Her smile turns nostalgic and private. “He kept coming back for more, because for some reason, he thought I was worth it.
“It took some time and lots of small moments of building trust between us, but eventually, I learned to rest in my love for him instead of fear it.” She stares out at the memories floating through her mind for another moment, and I don’t dare interrupt. A few moments later, her smile changes to something lighter and she looks at me. “I have a feeling you’re a sorry fool just like my sweet husband. And I’m willing to bet all my hidden money that you got possessive of Emily yesterday because you love her, but you have your own wounds you’re bringing to the table.”
“I think you’re right. But what do I do now? . . . Also, why do you have hidden money?”
She ignores my last question. “Now you decide if she’s worth it to you to go slow or not. To give her strong, fierce soul space when she needs it, and to trust she’ll invite you in when she’s ready. To let her heart love you softly until it’s ready for something bigger.” She stands and smooths out the wrinkles of her dress. “Now, of course, if what you need is opposite of what she needs—then maybe this love is one that was only meant to sweep through like a breeze. We encounter those in life from time to time. Doesn’t make them less wonderful to experience just because they come and go quickly.”
When she’s stopped smoothing her dress, I reach out and take her hand. “Thank you, Mabel. I didn’t grow up around people I could be honest with.” I have to swallow back the lump in my throat. “I appreciate you letting me be open with you today. I think I want to be someone who does this kind of thing more.”
“Good. Life can be a little shit sometimes. But shit also makes great fertilizer.” She pats the back of my hand that’s holding hers. “Grow from your experiences, don’t let them smother the light out of you.”
Mabel leaves a few minutes later after telling me to ring downstairs if I need any extra towels, and all I can do is lie back on the bed and stare at the ruffled canopy above me.
UNSENT DRAFT (four months ago)
FROM: Jack Bennett <[email protected]> TO: Emily Walker <[email protected]> DATE: Wed, Feb 21, 1:34 PM
SUBJECT: I think I miss you.
I’m sure you’re still rejoicing through the hallways that I’m gone—but I thought I’d just tell you that I broke it off with Zoe. It didn’t feel right anymore with her. I’m still in here in Nebraska, but I don’t like it here at all. Would you be upset if I came back? . . . Would you be happy? I don’t know why, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Everywhere I turn I expect to find you there. I don’t know . . . I guess I’m wondering if maybe you’re out there thinking of me too?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Emily
Now that Maddie has officially decided to go back to New York and finish her degree, she’s only here for a quick trip. Basically long enough for us both to wallow and pump each other up and then fly back out tomorrow morning.
It’s been so good to have her here, though—I’ve smothered her with hugs every five minutes and given her a manicure because her nails were chipped within an inch of their life. I helped her balance her checking account, which had been grossly unattended for far too long, we squeezed in a Hearts tournament with Noah and the girls last night, and now we’re having our sister hangout/Audrey Hepburn movie night. Or technically movie afternoon since we’re also doing a family dinner tonight on James’s back porch.
We’re even watching the movie in James’s living room to consolidate time. Also because James has the nicest house out of us all. His gorgeous farmhouse is situated on the Huxley farm and was inherited from his parents when they downsized to something more manageable. The house looks like it was lifted right from a Nora Ephron movie set. His mom has always had a love of interior design, and it shows in how she helped him refurnish this place after they moved their stuff out.
There are softly striped fabrics, luscious thick drapes, and a big couch so plush you’ll give your soul up for a chance to sit on it just one more minute. Warm oak hardwood floors and the kind of lighting that soothes something buzzing inside you. You would never expect a place like this to belong to a man like James. A farmer through and through.