“Hey, stranger!” Emma threw her arms wide as she opened her front door. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since the wedding. It’s been such a crazy couple of months. Come on in.”
I stepped over the threshold, appreciating as always the sense of warmth and welcome in Emma’s home. The cabin had long been a dream of hers: building her own home on her own land. There had been more than one bump along the way—I’d arrived in Florida in enough time to visit the trailer in which she’d lived for over a year. It had no running water or electrical hook-up, and she often had unwanted visitors in the forms of snakes, mice, cockroaches, and armadillos. I gave my friend enormous credit for having stuck it out in the trailer for as long as she had.
She’d decided on this spot for her permanent home a few months before I’d arrived in Harper Springs, and the foundation had already been poured. But I’d been able to participate in helping to raise the walls, lay the floors, and plan the landscaping. I’d also helped her move in. I couldn’t remember that day without thinking of Noah, who had organized a surprise for her in the form of special plants and flowers in her yard. I stifled a sigh and fought hard to keep tears from rising in my eyes. Damn these crazy pregnancy hormones.
I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry that I haven’t made it over here sooner. I’ve been working hard on the house, trying to get as much done as I can on the weekends. But I miss seeing you and Deacon, and I wanted to hear all about . . .everything. The honeymoon. Married life.” I glanced around. “Where is the happy groom, anyway?”
“Deacon’s over at Anna and Jimmy’s, helping with planting,” Emma answered as she closed the door behind me. “I have to admit, even after living here almost five years, I’m not used to the flip-flopped farm schedule. Most of the country is finishing harvest now, and down here in Florida, we’re just getting plants into the ground. Starting to pick a few early crops.”
“I know what you mean. Some of my flowers are just beginning to blossom now that the really hot weather has abated.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “Thanks for taking time for me today, Emma. I know how busy you’ve been, and I hate to eat up your day off.”
“Hey.” She laid her hand on my arm. “Alison, you’re my friend. You matter to me. Of course, I don’t mind.” She grinned. “I have chairs set up for us out on the back porch, and I opened a bottle of your favorite Pinot. It’s been ages since we’ve kicked back and caught up.”
As I followed Emma through the house to the back door, I bit my lip, tempted to blurt out that I wouldn’t be drinking any wine today, but since I wanted to explain the background before I dropped the bomb, I kept my mouth shut.
“Oh, wow, you guys have done a lot of work out here since the last time I visited.” I leaned over the railing, taking in the rows of neatly planted vegetables and the beds of flowers. On the far side of the deck sat two long wooden boxes filled with green plants.
“That’s my herb garden for now,” Emma explained, pointing. “Eventually, we’ll move it right here to the bottom of the steps, but we’re experimenting with various soil mixes first, so it was easier to do it this way.” She gestured to the table and chairs in the corner. “Have a seat.”
“This is just lovely.” I sat down in the padded rattan chair. “When I’m ready to re-do my backyard, Emma, I’m hiring you to help me. It’s so peaceful here. So restful.”
“Thanks, but I’m not sure you could afford me,” she quipped. “My hourly rate is based on my non-hospital time, and until we hire some more staff, it comes at a premium.” She reached for the bottle of wine and poured some in the two glasses sitting on the table. “But I agree with you. When I envisioned my cabin, I wanted a place that would be my oasis, my little spot of paradise in the middle of a messy, imperfect world. I also saw myself alone here, but I’m not complaining that I was wrong about that.”
“You and Deacon are happy.” It was a statement, not a question. Any person with eyes could tell how well suited the two of them were.
“We are. Not all the time, of course, and we still argue like cats and dogs, but the difference is that there’s an underlying understanding that no amount of fighting changes who we are to each other, what our marriage means. We might disagree at the top of our lungs, but no matter what, we go to sleep at night in the same bed. We made the commitment to our love . . . and if I’m telling the truth, sometimes the spats make everything a little spicier.” She winked. “If you know what I mean.”
I smiled, but I honestly didn’t know. My only long relationship had been with my late fiancé Tom, and we had rarely if ever fought. Our peaceful coexistence had been for me a sign of our compatibility. I couldn’t imagine living in the kind of tumultuous existence Emma described. I’d had enough upheaval in my life. What I craved now was peace. Harmony.
Of course, what I was here to explain to Emma made that idea laughably ironic.
“So you said on the phone that you needed to talk. What’s going on? Everything all right with the practice? With your house?” She leaned forward, her brows slightly drawn together, waiting for me to spill my guts.
I sucked in a deep breath. I’d been impatient to tell Emma everything that had been happening, to get her advice on how to handle Noah . . . and maybe deep down inside, I wanted Emma to tell me what to do about this pregnancy. But now that I was here in front of her, my throat tightened, and I began to worry that maybe she wouldn’t take this news well. After all, she and Noah had been together briefly. What if the idea of her ex and me together pissed her off? Of all the guys she’d tried to fix me up with, Noah had never been one. Was that because she didn’t think we’d be a good match?
I finally summoned up the nerve to begin to speak, my fingers twisting together under the table.
“Well . . . first things first. I didn’t tell you this at the time, and I’m sorry about that. But Noah and I were together at your wedding.”
Emma smiled. “I heard you two were hanging out. And you mentioned it when we talked on the phone, when Noah was in the hospital. I don’t know why you wouldn’t tell me. I’m happy that you two hit it off.”
I nodded. “But what I mean is that we weretogether,together. Like—after the wedding, we went back to the hotel, had some drinks in the bar, and he ended up in my room with me. For the whole night.” I paused, and then just in case Emma still didn’t get the complete picture, I added, “We had sex.”
Her mouth dropped open a little. “Oh. I mean—that’s—wow. I didn’t ever think—but Alison, that’s great.” She hesitated. “Itisgreat, right? Was it just the one night, or . . .?”
“It wasor,” I admitted. “We went out on a date the week after the wedding, and I spent that night at his house.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded. “When he was in a coma, and you didn’t know what was happening with him, why didn’t you say something?”
“Because nothing was certain, and I had no idea what the hell was going on.” I tossed up my hands. “I was going crazy, Emma. When I left Noah’s house, we’d agreed to keep our minds open about whatever might be happening between us. He promised he’d let me know as soon as he was home from the hospital. We texted that morning up until they took his phone, right before he went in for the operation. And then I heard . . . nothing. I didn’t have anyone to ask. I’m not Noah’s girlfriend—hell, I wasn’t even his close friend, like you. No one thought to let me know, and why would they? That’s why I finally called you. When you said he was in a coma . . . I was so worried, but at the same time, at least I knew. It was better than the uncertainty. I mean, it was at first.”
She nodded slowly. “You went to see him in the hospital.”
“Yeah.” I let out a long breath. “It was hard. His mother had no idea why I was there, and that woman—the one who works for the team—she came in, and Noah’s mother kept calling her his girlfriend. And I was just the strange person none of them had ever heard of who asked to see her son.”
“Juliet,” Emma sighed. “I’ve met her, too. She’s . . . she’s nice enough, I guess, but she’s not at all Noah’s type. Trust me. I talked to him about her while he was still in the hospital. He was so annoyed with his mother for—well, just about everything. Mrs. Spencer is not a bad person, but she doesn’t always pay enough attention to what her son wants or needs.” She wrinkled her nose. “I got along with her all right after Angela died, when Noah and I were friends. She definitely didn’t care for me during the short time we were actually dating, and she didn’t try to hide how she felt.”
“Well, I guess that makes me feel a little better,” I conceded. “Any woman who didn’t wantyouas a daughter-in-law must be nuts.”
