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Just like this poetry gig. She deserved it, and I didn’t want to stand in her way.
I tapped my finger on the desk and stared out the window toward the water. My grandparents had left the family a huge orchard with a sprawling home overlooking the ocean, and just recently, we’d started holding festivals on the property again in the fall. Emily was here with me on the last one, and it was almost magical. She probably had more fun bobbing for apples and eating fritters than the kids.
I smiled, thinking back to it.
There was a lot about Marigold Island that I loved, but I’d built my life in Seattle. Suddenly, that didn’t seem so appealing.
I let out a deep breath and closed the laptop.
Things were going to be fine. I’d help Emily out however she needed. I’d stay in the friend lane because it was better than no lane at all.
And if it didn’t work out between Rick and her, then I’d be there to pick up the pieces.
I glanced at the clock and stood up. It was four o’clock. Time to go tell her the exact opposite from what I’d planned on the way over here.
Grabbing my keys and wallet, I looked around my grandparents’ home. The place was like a time capsule with its gaudy and ornate furniture and wallpaper. But it brought a strange sort of comfort.
From the outside looking in, my grandparents might have looked prim and proper, even unemotional.
But I knew how fiercely they loved and how loyal they were when they raised James. It always made me see them a little differently from how others did.
As I walked out to my car, I glanced around the orchard and took in a deep breath. The air was definitely different here from Seattle. It smelled cleaner, somehow lighter.
By the time I pulled up to Emily’s house, I felt better about my decision to let things go. I didn’t need to get down on my knees and proclaim my feelings for her. Not after she finally got to the point of exchanging numbers with the guy. And she might not even be around for three months.
I skipped up to the door and rang the doorbell. Within seconds, Emily swung open the door and smiled.
“Right on time.” She pulled me in and laughed. “I need your big, bulging muscles to lift a few boxes for me.”
I stood in her tiny foyer. “What? No hugs or a smooch or how are you? Just straight to work?”
She stood on her toes and swept a quick kiss on my cheek, hugged me even quicker, and patted my back. “How are you?”
I smiled. “Better now, I suppose.”
Her bungalow was perfectly Emily. The foyer was cheery with a small table where she always had flowers and something that smelled good on top. She’d painted the walls a light grey,almost white, but she had a series of tiny wildflower paintings in vivid reds, purples, and blues.
The rest of her house was just as cheery, just like Emily.
“Okay, so I scooted the tables out of the walkway so that Mimi wouldn’t crash her walker into them. But for some reason, the small butcherblock island I have won’t roll. It’s like the wheels are busted.”
“I can take a look at it.” I nodded.
“And then I have a few boxes to lift out of the guest room.”
I laughed. “It went from a couple to a few?”
“I’m tricky like that.” Her gaze stayed on mine. “And then we can talk about whatever it is that you wanted to tell me.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, feeling like I’d made the right decision. It was time for me to back off a little, define our friendship a little better.
Because right now, all I wanted to do was bring her into me and kiss her.
I followed her down the short hallway that had photos of her sisters and parents hanging on the walls.
The kitchen looked like a tornado had hit.
“What happened?” I chuckled, taking everything in.
