“This is me.” I fish my keys from my pocket. Jakob looks at me for a moment, eyes searching my face, then turns away.
“See you later, Emmie,” he calls over his shoulder. I stand for a moment watching him walk away. Long strides eating up the ground beneath his leather work boots. He could be an ad for men in jeans everywhere. I watch him till he’s out of sight, then go pick up my kid.
* * *
“Mom, did youknow that about five hundred meteors reach the earth’s surface every year?” Gus looks up at me expectantly. We’re in the kitchen of the Happy Viking and I’m fighting with a new bonbon technique that is giving me trouble. The dark chocolate and lilac-purple-swirled bonbon coating keeps cracking, and then the huckleberry gelée shows through. It would be a gorgeous and tasty combination if I could just get it right. Gus is perched on a stool next to me. He’s sipping chamomile tea from a mug, reading his book, and peppering me with alarming facts about space. His tummy ache, as I predicted, seems to have all but disappeared.
“Five hundred meteors a year? I didn’t know that, buddy. Wow, that sounds like a lot of meteors,” I comment, carefully drying my bonbon molds and preparing to begin again. The lastruined batch of bonbons is sitting next to me accusingly, huckleberry gelée shining like little jewels through the cracked chocolate.
I swear silently under my breath and start over. Out front I can hear Walt and Jakob working. They’re tearing up the old carpeting and cutting it into strips. I am not sorry to see that gross gray carpet go.
“And did you know there’s an enormous rogue black hole that zooms around space going three million miles an hour?” Gus peers up at me, the expression on his face a mixture of fear and a sort of ghoulish fascination. “And someday, in millions of years, it might reach us and gobble up our entire galaxy?”
I glance up, mildly alarmed. “What kind of science book are you reading?”
Gus pulls it to himself protectively. “A good one,” he says. “Not like the boring ones we have at school that just talk about the life cycles of plants.” He rolls his eyes. At that moment, Jakob pokes his head into the kitchen and sees Gus.
“Just who I need,” he says. “Can you help us out, Gus? We’ve got a big job to do out here, and we could use a hand.” He glances at me questioningly.
Gus sits up straight and pushes his glasses up his nose. “Um, if my mom says it’s okay.”
I arch a brow at Jakob, who shoots me a quick, reassuring nod.
“Sure, honey. Just be careful.” I mouth a grateful “thank you” to Jakob, then step closer and murmur, “He’s not the most coordinated kid, so maybe nothing sharp?”
“He’ll do great,” Jakob says firmly, and they disappear into the front room. Only after they’re gone do I realize he never actually replied to my concern about sharp things. Oh well. I trust Jakob, and I can hear everything that’s going on out there.
“Oh cool!” Gus shouts, stomachache now seemingly completely forgotten. I smile, grabbing this moment of alone time and focusing on my technique once more, slowly brushing the molds with the shiny tempered dark chocolate.
Sometime later the bell on the front door jingles and I hear a familiar British voice call out a greeting. A moment later Henry peers into the kitchen. “Emmie?”
“Henry! What are you doing here?” I ask in surprise. He’s dressed very casually—boat shoes, linen trousers, and a striped T-shirt that looks comfortable yet expensive.
“I just popped in, thought I’d check and see if you’d made any progress on finding the right location for your shop?” He comes into the room and surveys my bonbon making process with interest.
“I’m going to stick local for now. I don’t think at this stage of life I can uproot my mom and Gus.” I try to covertly smooth my hair and wonder if I can get a breath mint without him seeing me. I’m so glad he stopped in. He could have texted me to ask about my progress finding a location, but I’m glad he came by instead. “I’m looking at a couple of possibilities this evening here in Poulsbo, actually.” I’m not hopeful they’ll work out. According to Dawn, the market for store frontage in Poulsbo is even more competitive than in Kingston and Winslow. She scraped up a few options and I know she’s doing her best, but the listings she sent me are all depressing. I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever find the right spot.
“Well, I hope one of them works out,” Henry says. “I’m always happy to be of help if I can.”
“Thanks, Henry.” I take a little ball of huckleberry gelée and drop it into the chocolate mold.
Henry lingers, then clears his throat. “Ah, there is one morething I wanted to ask you, Emmie. I was wondering…” He pauses, looking a little nervous. “Could I take you out for dinner tomorrow evening? I’ve enjoyed our time together, and I’d love to see you again.” He looks hopeful.
I duck my head to hide my huge smile. “I’d love that,” I say sincerely.
“Oh good.” He looks relieved. “Do you like wine?”
“I lived in Paris for years.” I laugh. “I’m pretty sure you can’t live in France and not enjoy wine.”
We arrange to meet at seven p.m. and I text Mom to let her know about my date. She never minds putting Gus to bed on the rare nights I have something to do. I text Dani too, in all caps with seven exclamation points. I’m over the moon. Henry has asked me on a real date!
After Henry leaves, I’m finishing up the batch of chocolates when Walt marches through the kitchen carrying a large roll of dirty carpet. I poke my head into the storefront to see what’s happening. Jakob and Gus are ripping up a large section of carpet in the middle of the store. Gus is making roaring sounds and stomping around. “Look, Mom, I’m a dino in space,” he exclaims. “And I get to use a grown-up knife! See?” Clutched in his hand is a box cutter. He waves it around excitedly.
“Hey, Gus, what’s in your hand, man?” Jakob says sternly, seeing my alarmed look.
“This is a tool, not a toy,” Gus repeats and straightens up, assuming a look of grave responsibility. He calms down immediately.
“Okay, cut this piece just like I showed you,” Jakob says, watching as Gus carefully slices through the grungy carpet. I pause to watch them. Jakob’s patient instruction reminds me of my dad’s. When Gus turned four, Dad gave him a tiny toolboxfilled with small, real metal tools. Gus would follow him around the house and yard like a duckling, helping with any small home maintenance tasks my dad felt up to accomplishing that day, depending on his energy level. It’s been two years since Gus opened that toolbox. Now he’s graduated to (alarmingly sharp) full-sized tools, but it is good to see him looking so happy and productive. I guess it’s hard to worry about the vastness of space when you have to concentrate on not slicing your fingers. He looks so grown up and so young at the same time, crouched beside Jakob’s tall form, intently listening to instructions. Feeling thankful, I go back to the kitchen to finish my chocolates. I have a date tomorrow with the guy of my dreams, and Gus has a new big buddy. All in all, things are looking up.
