Page 28 of Riding the Curve

“Oh yeah?” I chuckle, watching as she rests her elbows on the stainless steel table. She steeples her fingers and taps them together as she hatches a plan.

“I think you should come work with me!”

Leaning back on the stool, I contemplate her offer.

“Wow, I thought that would have been an immediate ‘yes.’ You need a job, right?”

“Ouch?”

Grabbing a handful of blueberries, I launch them toward her, but she dodges them like a ninja.

“It would be good for you.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes! Girl, you need to get out of the house and start doing what you love again. Don’t let those idiots in New York stop you from living your dream. You’re still an amazing chef, no matter where you cook.”

I reach across the table and place my palm over hers. “Thank you. I’d love to work with you.”

“I definitely won’t be able to pay you as much as your old job, but I will make it worth it in other ways.” She waggles her eyebrows, making me snort.

“Harper, you don’t have to pay⁠—”

“Nope, don’t you dare finish that sentence! Honestly, you’ll be doing me a huge favor. One of my workers will be heading back to college in a few weeks, so I will need all the help I can get.”

“I’ll help you in any way I can. It’s the least I can do for all the support you’ve given me over the years.”

A warm smile lifts her lips. Gliding around to my side, she wraps her arms tightly around me. “You owe me nothing, Hen. This is what family does. We reach out for a lifeline when someone needs it most. Today it’s you, tomorrow it may be me. That’s the beauty of it. We never have to be afraid of going under, because there will always be someone there to lift us up.”

Wondering what I did to deserve such an amazing friend, I squeeze her tightly. After a moment, she releases me, walking over to the wall of aprons. They’re adorned with Old Oak Oven’s logo, a bouquet of pastries and bread. The violet apron flies, smacking me in the face before my hands can block it. Apparently lack of sleep also affects reflexes.

“Now, get to work, slacker! There’s a sink full of dishes with your name on it!”

Rolling my eyes, I put on the apron and stand to tie it around me. “Aye-aye, Captain!”

Again, I salute her. In return, she salutes me with her middle finger.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

CHAPTER 11

Emerson

Exhaustion weighs on my body. I cradle my head in my hands as I sit at the kitchen counter. After two weeks, I assumed that I would finally feel comfortable being in the house again.

I was wrong.

Everywhere in this house holds a memory of the past. Memories of Mama. The essence of her floral scent is still embedded in every inch of our furniture and wrapped up in every blanket and sheet. The walls are adorned with countless snapshots of our lives. They’re in every room, filling every hallway, because Mama always said she wanted her house full of life. She wanted to feel surrounded by us everywhere she went. Dad kept her plants alive, and as calming as they’re supposed to be, it’s another reminder that she isn’t here to take care of them herself.

Every time I climb the stairs, I’m reminded of the countless times I carried her in my arms to bed in those last few months. Even the kitchen holds memories.

I tried to make breakfast for us yesterday, and when I grabbed the plates from the cabinet, I noticed the intricate floral pattern that circled around the rim. Her favorite. It brought me back to dinners with the Coles, Henley and our moms laughing in the kitchen, and the plates fell to the floor. Scattering in a million pieces just like my sanity.

Now I spend almost all day and night in the shop, distracting myself with tinkering on the Porsche and helping service the cars that come in. I drive to clear my mind. However, at the end of the night, I still force myself to come home and try to sleep.

Dark circles have taken residence under Dad’s eyes, and the guilt continues to cramp my stomach. During our dinners he tries to make conversation, but the entire time I’m trying my best to focus on breathing. Lately I’ve been skipping dinner entirely, eating things from the vending machine at the shop. After a long drive on the track last night, I even slept in my car.

I’m exhausted both mentally and physically. I need to pull myself together soon before I break so massively that I won’t be able to put myself back together.