I feel myself pink at the unexpected compliment. Jakobdoesn’t hand them out often. “Well, you kind of ruined other guys for me,” I blurt out before I think about it. “You’re why I left Gus’s dad.”
His eyebrows fly up at this revelation. “What?”
I hasten to explain. “While I was dating Romaine, I kept comparing him to you. All the guys I’ve ever dated, I’ve compared to you. You were the kindest, sweetest guy I’d ever met. You were so smart, and so perceptive, and your only flaw was that you couldn’t see yourself as worthy, as valuable.” I sneak a peek at him. He’s focused on me intently, those icy eyes boring into me. I press on.
“After a while I realized that while Romaine was worldly and cool and smart, he was also sort of a jerk. He wasn’t kind to people the way you were. He wasn’t thoughtful. He took me a little bit for granted, and I think he looked down on me a little too, because I didn’t speak four languages and didn’t know much about wine and didn’t understand a lot about European politics. It wasn’t just me. Romaine looked down on a lot of people. He was a snob. I broke up with him even before my dad got his diagnosis. When I came home and found out I was pregnant, it was already over with Romaine. And I didn’t try to get back together with him. You know why?”
Jakob shakes his head. His expression is closed and wary, but I soldier on. “Because I knew my baby needed someone else to be a father to him, someone less like Romaine and more like you.”
He looks up sharply at that, but I hold his gaze, trying to convey the truth of what I’m saying. “And for four years, Gus had my dad. My dad was the only other man in the world who was as kind and caring and thoughtful as you were. You and Dad made it really hard for any other men to meet those standards. Quite frankly, no one else ever has.”
Jakob just stares at me wordlessly for a long minute. He looks a little stunned. Then he clears his throat. “We should get back,” he says. “I’ve got a lot of work to do to get your store up and running again.”
I nod and turn around, facing front. Maybe I’ve said too much, but I don’t regret it. It feels good to clear the air. We paddle briskly back across the bay. The silence is easy now between us. I feel lighter, like the words that have been sitting in my chest, waiting to be spoken, have finally been released, floating away like helium balloons. I’ve done what I could to right the wrong I did to Jakob, and that feels pretty amazing. I paddle hard, feeling lighter than air.
We’re almost to the boathouse when Jakob breaks the silence. “How are things coming with your chocolate shop idea?” he asks.
I heave a sigh. “It’s run into a bit of a snag, actually.” I tell him about the lack of good storefront space in Kingston and Winslow. “I’m stuck until I can find a space that will work.”
Jakob is quiet for a minute. I can hear him thinking. “How about here in Poulsbo? Is there anything available in downtown?” he asks finally.
I hesitate. “I haven’t really been looking in Poulsbo,” I admit finally.
“Why not? It has just as much charm as those other towns, and you already have a good network in the business community.” Jakob steers us into the marina. “It would save you a lot of time and trouble to not have to build a name somewhere else and get connected. It’s already here for you. It’d take you years to build up somewhere else what you already have here.”
He has a good point. I hadn’t thought of it that way. I’ve been too busy dreaming of other places to really think about the value of what I have right in front of me. I consider the idea for amoment, thinking of all the help we had last night. People know us and love us and are willing to sacrifice for us in this town. This sense of community is precious. So why am I trying to start over somewhere where I’ll have to build all of this relationship and goodwill all over again? Why am I not locating my shop in Poulsbo? It’s a very good question.
I think of the dream—Paris, New York—and I think of the reality. If I were a single woman, younger and free, perhaps that would have made sense. But I am me, and I have Gus and Mom and the Happy Viking to consider. I think of my vision again. There was nothing that gave me a sense of the shop’s exact location. Maybe I should consider Poulsbo more carefully, at least be open to the idea and see what’s available. Jakob has given me a lot to think about.
Chapter 20
Just as we pull up to the dock, I get a call from the school nurse asking me to come get Gus. Apparently he is complaining about a tummy ache. With a sigh, I tell her I’ll be there in ten minutes.
“Everything all right?” Jakob asks when I hang up.
“Yeah, ever since Dad died, Gus has had lots of big feelings, and sometimes those come out as tummy aches,” I explain. “I make him chamomile tea with honey, but honestly I think he just needs some cuddles and reassurance.” I set my empty coffee cup on the dock and struggle to get out of the kayak gracefully. Jakob leaps from the kayak and is there by my side instantly, his strong grip closing over my upper arms. He steadies me but lets me find my footing and clamber out onto the dock myself.
“Thanks.” I tug down the crumpled hem of my cute Poulsbo sweatshirt with “Visit Little Norway” embroidered on it with fuzzy thread in retro colors.
“Anything I can do?” Jakob asks.
I shake my head. “I’ll just drive over and get him. I’ll have to bring him with me to the shop today, but I’ll try to keep him out of your way.” I was planning on experimenting with some new chocolate flavors this afternoon. I also have some paperwork I need to do at the store. Maybe Gus will be okay playing with LEGOs or reading a book so I can at least get a little work done.
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Jakob says. “He’s a cool kid.”
“He is.” I smile and look up at him. “He’s a great kid, but…” I worry my lip, and Jakob notices.
“But what?” he asks, hefting the kayak out of the water and carrying it to the rack of kayaks. I grab the paddles and hurry after him.
“I’m always afraid I’m not handling all of this right—his anxiety and the grief over my dad and the stomachaches. It’s just…it’s the thing no one tells you about being a single parent. There’s no one else to help carry the mental load. It’s just me. And I’m never quite sure if I’m doing it right or doing enough. I mean, Mom and Dot and Dani help out a lot, and they love Gus, but at the end of the day, I’m his only parent. And I worry sometimes that I’m messing it up, messing him up.” I put the paddles upright in a rack next to the kayaks and unbuckle my life jacket.
“Nah.” Jakob shakes his head. “You’re doing great.” He stows the kayak, lifting it onto the rack like it weighs nothing. “Look at my family. We boys were raised on Coca-Cola and day-old pastries. We didn’t ever go to the doctor, even when Soren broke his arm. And look how we turned out. Lars is a district attorney now for Kitsap County.” He shrugs. “I think you’re doing just fine, Emmie. He’s a good kid who lost a big person in his life. That takes time to find a new normal.”
I nod, relieved by his words. It’s a good reminder to go slow and let grief take whatever form it needs to take. For Gus, evidently,that’s tea and time with me today. I have a thousand things to do, but I’ll make the time somehow. I always do.
“Thanks for the paddle around the bay,” I say lightly as we walk down the dock and head toward the public parking lot next to the waterfront pavilion. It’s the most convenient parking for downtown businesses and my Honda is there. “And thanks for clearing the air.” I glance at him sideways, gauging his reaction.
“Anytime,” he says. We reach my car.
