Chapter Eighteen
EMERY TURNED HER yoga bag upside down in her bedroom at the inn Friday morning and dumped the contents onto her bed amid the piles of clothes and belongings. It had been two days since she’d moved out of Dean’s cottage, and she was still living out of her suitcases. Between planning her classes, helping Dean with the patio yesterday, and staying up for hours at night talking to him on the phone, like they used to…only sexier, unpacking hadn’t been on the top of her priority list. I actually have my priorities straight, she thought proudly.
She sorted through her yoga props for the hundredth time, searching for one of her yoga straps. Chloe had called Wednesday afternoon and told her she was approved to work with Rose, and Rose’s daughter, Patty Gable, was managing her finances and was going to take care of the bills. She’d already exchanged emails with Patty, who seemed lovely and was excited to see if Emery could help her mother. She’d also spoken to Rose, who was so eager to get started, they’d set up her first session for today. Emery was just as excited to begin, and thrilled that Rose had the support of her daughter.
“Still no keys?”
She looked up and found Dean leaning against, and filling, her doorframe, looking sexy in his shorts and tight T-shirt, his hair still wet from their shower. She’d gotten up early to meditate and had seen Dean leaving for his run with Rick and Drake. When he’d come home, she’d been waiting for him at his place. They’d made love like they’d been apart for weeks. It was a cycle she very much enjoyed, but she’d had to hurry back to the inn to get ready to see Rose, and as Desiree had so lovingly pointed out, she’d been humming all morning.
“The keys are a lost cause. Are you still okay lending me your truck to go see my first client at LOCAL?” She put her hands on her hips and visually scanned her open suitcases. “I’m looking for one of my yoga straps.”
“Yoga straps? Sounds kinky. Did you check those little compartments in your shoes for your keys?”
It figured he’d ignore her question about his truck and focus on the sexy stuff instead. Man, she loved that about him.
His gaze slid down her body. “Any other secret compartments I should check?”
“Not in my yoga pants.”
Dean reached into his pocket and placed a set of keys in her hand.
“You found my keys? What about my bracelet? And your golf cart keys?”
“No, sorry. I’m afraid my house has turned into the Bermuda Triangle. I called Austin yesterday when you told me you’d lost your keys. He went to the dealership to get you a new set and overnighted them. They just arrived.”
She exhaled with relief. “You did that? He did that?”
“We’ve got your back, doll.” He tugged her closer. “Now, tell me about these straps. Maybe we should try them out.” He waggled his brows.
“No naughtiness with my yoga props! Besides, silk is always better, don’t you think?” She went up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss. “I’m going to be late if I don’t get out of here.” She stuffed her props back in the bag. “We’ll have to grab my yoga mat and blankets from my studio.”
He glanced at her open suitcases. “You should unpack. Maybe then you’d find your things. You said you were missing your razor, too?”
“Yeah. I’m going to get one today. I’ve been borrowing yours.” She flashed a cheesy smile and slung her bag over her shoulder. “I’m also going to stop by the girls’ shop.”
His arm circled her waist and he drew her closer. “I’m not keeping you satisfied?”
“Oh, yes, you are, Mr. Masters. I want to check out the paintings for my yoga studio. Classes start tomorrow.” She went up on her toes and kissed him, feeling like they’d been together forever. “If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll stop into the adult-exploration shop and bring us home a little something special.”
“Now you’re talking.” He nuzzled her neck and said, “Are you still going shopping with Des and the girls later?”
“Yes. That’s the plan.”
“Remember, no hot dresses. I don’t want my father’s colleagues gawking at you.” He leaned in for another delicious kiss. “I’ll miss working with you on the patio. I’m getting used to having you with me.”
“I’m going to miss you, too,” she admitted. She was enjoying creating the patio with him. Dean might be an aggressive and demanding lover, which she adored, and a bit picky about his gardens, which she respected, but when it came to the patio, he was uncharacteristically easygoing. Yesterday she’d brought over several potted basil plants to ward off bad mojo and set them along the edge of the gardens that surrounded the patio—because she knew better than to try to plant them—and he seemed not only happy she’d brought them, but curious about her knowledge of herbs. It turned out that they had even more in common than she’d imagined. And when she was struck with inspiration while meditating this morning and she asked if they could change some of the remaining flagstone design to incorporate a few earth signs, he was totally open to it. Even though he was doing the bulk of the work, she felt like she was an integral part of the creative process, making it even more special.
She pulled her bag over her shoulder and asked, “What are you working on today?”
“I have a few surprises up my sleeve. Good luck with your first client.” He smacked her butt.
She glared at him as he followed her out the door, but inside she was thrilled that she could finally be herself with a man. Not only did he not find fault in her moving from one thing to the next without slowing down, or changing direction midstream, but he supported her endeavors. Encouraged them, even when I was ready to put them off. He seemed to genuinely adore everything about her, which made her worry less about messing things up.
She called Austin on the way to LOCAL. Of all her brothers, she was closest to Austin, in age and in relationship. They were different in many ways, including how they handled things. Like their oldest brother, Ethan, Austin was careful and thoughtful, thinking through ramifications before acting, while Emery and Alec, who was almost two years older than Austin, were impulsive and could have hair triggers if provoked. But she couldn’t remember a time she and Austin weren’t close.
“Hey, sis. How’s beach life besides keyless?”
She heard the smile in his voice and felt a pang of homesickness. “Beach life is interesting. Different from home, of course.”
“I’d say. You have that big Viking to do your bidding.”
She winced. Had Dean told him about them? She had been so relieved to have a set of keys she’d forgotten to ask. “Yeah, Dean’s great,” she said, fishing to see how much he’d told Austin.
Austin was silent for so long, she looked at the phone to see if she had service. “Aus?”
“I’m waiting for you to tell me about you and Viking.”
Shoot. Okay, she could do this. All of her brothers were protective, and when things had gone down at the rehab center, Ethan had wanted to sue her boss and Alec had wanted to kick the life out of him. But Austin had talked some sense into them, and he’d taken it upon himself to go down to the office, unbeknownst to Emery, and he’d had a long discussion with her ex-boss. He wouldn’t tell her what had transpired, but whatever it was had stopped his excessive texts and phone calls immediately. Like Dean, her brothers weren’t afraid of anything, and they were loyal to the bone.
“I guess he mentioned that we’re dating?” Dating? She never used that word when referencing a guy with any of her brothers before. Going out with, sure. Hooking up with, yup. Dating? Nope. In their family, the word was rarely spoken. They were the broken ones, after all. Or so she used to think.
“Dating?” Austin cleared his throat. “No.”
Uh-oh. She was equally surprised and touched that her possessive boyfriend hadn’t staked claim and had left it up to her to reveal their relationship to her family. Although she could think of a hundred better ways than what she’d just done. Emery drew in a deep, calming breath that did not calm her nerves one iota, and explained, as best she could, how she hadn’t realized what was developing between them until recently. She didn’t tell him she had stayed with Dean when she’d first arrived. Why add fuel to the fire?
“You expect me to believe that for all this time you had no clue? Come on, pistol. You’re no dummy.”
Her heart squeezed at the endearment he’d called her since she was thirteen and their father had taken them to the shooting range. They’d grown up on a rural farm, and her father had insisted they all know how to defend their property. She’d been a better shot than all three of her brothers even though she hated firearms.
“I know, it’s weird,” she admitted. “But I swear, I blocked out my feelings or something. Austin, I know I’ve kept some things from you in the past, but I’ve never been happier.”
“You mean like keeping everything from me since you met Viking?”
She thought about that. Yeah, she had shared more with Austin before she and Dean began talking every night. “See? I hadn’t even put that together in my head until just now.”
“C’mon, pistol. I could see it in your eyes at Easter. It took me a while to figure out that was why you broke up with your old boss, which, by the way, you could have told me and saved me a big showdown with the guy. The poor guy only wanted you to go out with him more and to commit to only seeing him. Even though that was never going to happen, I could have approached him in a less threatening way.”
She winced. “Sorry?”
“Geez, P. How could you not know?”
“What? There was nothing to know at that point.” At least she hadn’t realized it at the time.
Austin was silent, which meant he was deciding how to react.
“Aus?” When he said nothing, Emery knew he was being extra careful. “He’s more like you than me, if that helps. He’s thoughtful and protective. He’s not going to hurt me. I know that’s what you’re worried about, but he’s different from anyone I’ve ever known. I can feel how much he cares for me. I’m happy we’re dating.”
“You used the D word.”
“Yeah. Scary, right? It just came out. But like I said, this feels like nothing ever has. It feels real, and I want it to be real.”
He was quiet for a long moment. And then he said, “What if something goes wrong? You’ve got no one there.”
“I have Desiree,” she said. “And I’m perfectly capable of handling myself. I know you like to think of me as your angelic sister who doesn’t go out with guys.”
He laughed. “Hardly. But the D word? That takes guts, P.”
“I know, but with Dean it doesn’t feel like it does.”
“So weird. I hate you being that far away. And we haven’t met Viking in person. Maybe I need to take a weekend trip to the Cape.”
She pulled into the facility parking lot, smiling. “Austin…”
“I’m just pulling your leg. Sort of. He seems like a good guy, and if he’s not, then I’ll break his legs.”
They joked about who would break whose legs, and he filled her in on her brothers’ latest shenanigans, which included a midnight rodeo with the usual rowdy crowd. She had a pang of longing for the life she’d left behind and the friends who did crazy things at all hours. But even as the thought hit her, she knew that somehow she’d grown up in the days since she’d left. Maybe it was traveling so far on her own and knowing she had no family here to fall back on, or perhaps it was the idea that now her nights were spent in the arms of a man who wasn’t interested in being wild and crazy, but being stable and loving. No man had ever made her want to climb into his bed and just be held. Until Dean.
She tried to push those thoughts to the side, but they refused to be contained as she told Austin about the fancy dinner they were going to in a few weeks and promised to text him pictures—and to tell Dean to behave himself. She’d crossed her fingers on that last part.
As she headed inside with her yoga bag and mats for her first appointment with Rose, the empty spot she’d felt at being so far away from her brothers seemed a little fuller. And having admitted to Austin that she was dating Dean was proof that she was indeed stepping into a new phase in her life.
EMERY HAD LEARNED from Chloe that the assisted living facility had several wings, designated by the level of care the residents needed. The wings ranged from Helper’s Hand, which meant someone was always a call away, to Live-in Assistance, for those who had hired full-time, live-in care providers, to the Nursing Care and Hospice wings. Rose lived in the Helper’s Hand area. Emery squared her shoulders and knocked on the door, her friendliest smile in place. When a tall, broad, and intimidatingly stern, gray-haired man answered the door wearing an expensive, perfectly tailored suit and a pinched expression, she was thrown a little off her game. His cold blue eyes swept over her tank top and yoga pants with a look of irritation.
“Yes?” he snapped.
“Hi…I’m Emery Andrews. I have an appointment with Rose.”
“Oh, yes! Come in, sweetheart,” Rose called out from behind the stoic door blocker. Her wheelchair appeared beside him and she pushed at his hip. “Step aside, will you? Let the girl in. Where are your manners?”
The man let out an annoyed harrumph as he motioned for Emery to enter the cozy apartment, which felt stifling beneath the weight of the man’s negative energy. “What kind of cockamamie scheme are you up to now, Mother?”
Rose grumbled as she wheeled herself into the living room. She waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “Don’t mind him. My son is brilliant, but he failed in the bedside-manner department.”
Emery’s stomach clenched at the man’s disapproving glare. The way his hair was slicked back, exposing a sharp widow’s peak, made him look even more daunting. She forced a smile and turned her attention to Rose. “Would you like to reschedule our yoga session for after your visit?” For the life of her, Emery couldn’t imagine wanting to spend a second with this poor excuse of a man.
“Yoga? Good grief, Mother. How much are you paying this woman? What kind of nonsense—”
“I’ll have you know,” Emery interrupted, not about to let some guy with a stick up his butt disrespect her. “Many types of injuries that physicians have written off as untreatable have been healed through yoga, without medication or expensive medical treatments. A person’s emotional state, and the ability to free themselves from the medicated confines that too much of society has embraced, has led to many incredible healings.” She was shaking, but she stood pin straight, refusing to back down on her principles.
The man scoffed. “People like you are the reason so many patients end up with more trouble—”
Rose held up a hand, silencing him. In that moment, Emery saw the power struggle between mother and son. Rose pointed to the door, her gray-blue eyes locked on her son. “I believe it’s time for you to go.”
His gaze never left Rose’s. “I’ll send Chloe a list of approved live-in caregivers for you to interview.”
“Save your energy. I’ll have no part of live-in care.” She motioned toward the door again. “Now please go. I’m sure you have more pressing things to attend to than my exercises.”
Without another glance Emery’s way, the man left, taking his cancerous aura with him. The loud sigh that rushed from her lungs brought a laugh from Rose.
“I’m sorry. That was rude of me,” Emery said, setting her bag and supplies down beside the couch.
“He’s my son, and I love him, but that man makes me crave scotch too early in the morning.” She shook her head, her snow-white waves moving with the motion. “He wasn’t always that way, but when he took over the business, he became…well,” she said thoughtfully. “He became someone other than the person I raised.” She waved her hand again and said, “Let’s get this show on the road. I’m good and ready to make some progress.”
“You’ve just answered my first question about how hard you’re willing to work.” Relieved to have moved on to a different subject, Emery walked behind Rose’s chair and began kneading her shoulders. “How about we loosen up some of these muscles while you tell me about your lifestyle and how it’s changed over the years.”
“You want to talk? Shouldn’t we be doing some downward dog or something?”
Emery laughed. “You’ve done some research.”
“I’m good at that online research. But you have to be careful with your search words. Why, my friends and I searched Dick’s—you know, the sporting goods store? Mag wanted to order a yoga mat when she heard you were coming. The results were quite eye-opening.”
She glanced up at Emery, who had stopped kneading her shoulders to try to keep a snort from following her laughter. “Maybe you should leave the research to me.”
“And miss out on all those hotties?”
Oh my! Rose was a live wire. Circling back to her question, Emery said, “We will get to yoga, but right now I’d like to get to know more about you. And these muscles could use a little extra attention.”
Rose smiled. “I like the sound of that.” Her muscles tightened again and she added, “If my son has his way, I’ll never have to do anything myself again.”
“Sometimes family members feel a sense of inadequacy when they can’t help, or even a sense of despair.”
“Perhaps,” Rose said thoughtfully. She was quiet for a moment, as if she were mulling over what Emery had said. “Let’s see. How has my lifestyle changed? Well, I was always active. I ran around after my three children, volunteered, gardened, danced. Oh, how I loved to dance. But you don’t want to know about that.”
“I would love to hear about that, and any other activities you’ve enjoyed and would like to get back to.” She began massaging Rose’s arm, gently working her way down to her fingers, checking the range of motion in her shoulder, elbow, and wrist, while Rose painted a picture of a happy family life, including dancing, family vacations, and picnics with her children. Emery wondered how such a close-knit family could have resulted in the man she’d seen treating his mother so harshly.
“There was a time when my husband loved to dance. And, of course, as we got older, real life took over, and we did those things without my husband because he had to work.” Rose paused, twisting her wedding band with a pained expression.
Emery turned her attention to Rose’s other arm, soaking in every word she shared, and also, the way she reacted to certain touches and shifted in her wheelchair, indicating painful positions. This getting-to-know-you period was the most telling with new clients. As they talked, she noticed Rose moving her fingers a little more easily. Those signs gave Emery hope for what she could achieve. Yoga had turned into a trend, and people were capitalizing on it every way they could—goat yoga, cat yoga. Heaven only knew what would be next. While she enjoyed teaching classes, regardless of the reasons people attended, it was these one-on-one sessions that allowed for deeper relationships, which in turn allowed her to help her clients on a different level, filling her with joy.
“You must have enjoyed those things with him after he retired,” Emery said.
Rose’s pained expression returned, and a cynical laugh fell from her lips. “I thought I would, too, but it seems the early years were our best. By the time our children had lives of their own, my husband and I were virtual strangers. It was a shame, but there was not a lot of love left in my husband by the time we lost him unexpectedly to a heart attack. After he passed, as much as I missed him, it was a relief, to be honest. It has taken me years to admit that, but he was not a happy man. That was more than a decade ago, when we should have been looking at our golden years together after all his hard work. Anyway, I continued gardening and seeing friends, but his death took a toll on our family, and other parts of my life became more difficult. My daughter went through a bout of depression for a while, and my youngest son didn’t deal with his grief at all. He just swept it under the carpet and moved on. And my eldest, the son you met. The angry one,” she said with a small smile that could only be forged by the mother of someone so bitter. “He buried himself in work at the expense of his own family. When you watch your children suffer, it takes a toll on you. Little aches and pains became more noticeable at that point.”
“That’s not surprising. Emotional heartache can lead to all sorts of health issues. We’ll work on ways to alleviate stress so you’re not so knotted up from it.”
“Oh, there’s a bit more,” Rose explained. “Several years after I lost my husband, something I never imagined happened.” She twirled her ring again, and a genuine smile lifted her lips. “I fell in love for a second time. This time, with a good man, my Leon,” she said warmly. “He was good to me, kind, and affectionate. Always made me his first priority. I thought the universe had given him to me as a gift, that’s how wonderful he was. The kind of wonderful I couldn’t turn away from.”
“That’s lucky, to find love twice in your lifetime.” Emery was still hoping to get lucky enough to find it once and hold on to it. Her blossoming feelings for Dean made her wonder if they were heading in that direction. Her stomach fluttered with the thought. She pushed those warm feelings aside and focused on Rose.
“They were two very different types of love,” Rose said, and her expression saddened. “The first might have started as love, and lust, to be honest. But a few years into our marriage, it had become duty that kept us together. In those days, you didn’t divorce. You stuck things out, even if you were miserable. My love for Leon, however, was the truest type of love, because it was fully reciprocated. We were married for two years and three months. One morning I woke up, and…” Tears welled in her eyes. She inhaled deeply, blinking repeatedly until her tears dried. “He was gone.”
“Oh, Rose.” Without thinking, she leaned in and embraced her. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. Do you have a man in your life?”
Emery hesitated. She knew Dean was friends with many of the residents, and she didn’t want to make that awkward for him, so she was careful with her answer. “I do, and he’s a good man.”
“That’s good, Emery. With age comes wisdom, and if I have any to share, it would be not to give your heart to a man simply because he makes your body feel alive. The physical part is easy. Love is hard. You should give your heart to the man who treats you like a treasure, who cherishes you and wants you beside him always. Someone who helps you become a smarter, better person. He might keep you up all night beneath the sheets, because let’s face it, lust is good, and it’s part of love. But it’s not everything.”
There was a knock at the door, and a gray-haired woman peeked her head in the door. “Is the coast clear?” she whispered loudly.
Rose smiled and waved her in. “Yes. He’s gone.”
Emery was still processing all the things Rose had said. It saddened her to know Rose had endured an unhappy marriage, but she was glad she’d found true love in the end, even if only for two years.
Rose glanced at her as two women hurried into the room whispering like teenagers. “If there’s one thing my son is good at, it’s clearing a room.”
“You can say that again,” the younger of the two women said as she plunked a knitting bag down on the coffee table. She was tall and wiry, with short, layered brown and gray hair and bright brown eyes. “I’m Magdeline. You can call me Mag.”
“Or Magpie,” the other woman added. “I’m Arlin. You can call me beautiful, or sweets. I personally like sweets, but anything other than ma’am or grandma works for me.” She had a happy, round face with rosy cheeks, and her orange-tinged hair was peppered with breakthrough white. Her brows were painted on, but her smile was real as the day was long. “Have you started the bendy class yet?”
“I hear yoga is great for sex,” Magdeline said as she sank down to the couch.
“That’s something else about my lifestyle that has changed,” Rose said. “There was a time when I could bend pretty well, and my husbands, oh, they both liked that.”
“Mm-hm,” Magdeline agreed with an emphatic nod. “Men do like us to be flexible.”
“You would know,” Arlin chimed in. “We used to call her Mad-Shag Magdeline.”
Emery stifled a laugh, feeling like she’d stumbled across the Dirty Grandma Club.
Arlin patted her hair with an air of primness and said, “I, on the other hand, made my men work for it.”
“You made them raise the cow from birth, milk it, and pasteurize it,” Rose said. “And then, maybe, if they jumped through all the other hoops on your list, they could get to second base.”
The women chatted throughout their session as she continued working with Rose. Emery not only learned about how Rose’s activity level had changed over the years and how a fall had led to her current pain, but she also realized how determined Rose was to get back on her feet. Rose’s range of motion was fairly good, and Emery was sure with the right care and the support of her friends and daughter, Rose was on a good path toward achieving the mobility she desired. While Emery usually started new clients with once-a-week sessions so they didn’t find their therapies or the payment for them a nuisance, she was pleased when Rose insisted they work together three times each week. They scheduled sessions for Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.
After their session, Emery headed to the inn to check out the paintings at Devi’s Discoveries before going shopping with Desiree. And maybe I’ll pick up a little something at the adult-exploration shop, too. The idea sent her stomach into a wild swirl. She’d never used anything like that with a man before.
Surprisingly, the idea of exploring with Dean didn’t make her cringe with embarrassment. Instead, her girly parts twitched with anticipation, even if she wasn’t quite sure she would actually go through with it.
As she turned down the street toward the inn, she thought about her upcoming shopping trip with Desiree. She was excited about getting all dolled up for Dean, though she was nervous about meeting his parents. From everything Dean had told her, his mother was wonderful, but his father had gone from being a typical hardworking parent who spent time with his kids in the evenings and weekends to being a total jerk. She was not good at holding her tongue, and it had gotten her into trouble enough times that if she were capable of changing it, she would have by now.
She parked by the cottages and found Desiree looking carefree and happy, wearing a cute flowered sundress, her blond hair tied back in a low ponytail. Her paintbrush moved over the canvas on an easel in front of Devi’s Discoveries. Desiree had been a preschool teacher in Virginia, and when she’d moved to the Cape and taken over Lizza’s art gallery, her mother’s paintings had inspired her to start painting again. According to Desiree, the income from the inn, the shop, and the sales of their paintings, along with the batik wall hangings and pottery Violet made, earned more than enough to pay the bills. But Desiree also taught art to children during the schoolyear. She had their pictures hanging up throughout the inn.
Desiree turned as she approached, her smile quickly fading. She put her brush down and ran over to Emery. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Emery walked into Desiree’s open arms and said, “Tell me I’m not crazy for feeling like I’m falling, like really falling, for Dean.”
“You’re definitely not crazy. Am I allowed to be super happy that my bestie is finally admitting to her real feelings for our amazing neighbor?”
“Yes!”
“Good, because he’s an amazing guy, and he clearly adores you.”
Emery held her tighter. “Now tell me I’m not going to mess up our relationship by telling his father what I really think of him.”
“Um…”
“Oh, that’s helpful,” she said sarcastically, and headed into the shop.
Desiree followed her in. “Emery, what’s going on? Are you worried about going to the dinner?”
“No, the idea of meeting someone who tells my boyfriend he’s wasting his life instead of seeing him for the incredible man he is has me giddy.” She focused on the paintings to distract herself from the way her nerves were knotting up. She was surprised by how many paintings Desiree had completed over the winter. The walls were chock-full of gorgeous, colorful paintings of sunsets and children playing in the sand, Cosmos lying in the snow, and beautiful gardens.
“Gosh, Des, you’ve been busy this winter. These paintings are incredible. I’m so glad you started painting again.”
“Thanks. For the first time in forever, I’m not all blocked up because of Lizza. I think working things out and coming here, getting to know Vi, falling in love with Rick”—she sighed dreamily—“all helped. And now that you’re here, my life is perfect.”
“I think it was pretty perfect before I got here, too. But I really do need some advice about how to handle things with Dean’s dad.”
“I saw the planters covered in plastic wrap on the windowsills. Violet said they weren’t hers. Did you consult Morgyn about this little problem of yours? Did she tell you to grow some filter-enhancing herbs?”
Emery gave her a deadpan look. Morgyn was the same friend whom Emery had bought the dream catcher tank top from. She reminded Emery of Desiree’s mother, in that she was a total throwback to the seventies, but she was only in her early twenties and wasn’t at all flighty or nomadic. She was grounded and stable. Like Dean. Morgyn ran an eclectic clothing store, where she patched and accessorized—or as she called it, enhanced—gently used clothing, turning them into spectacular and unique items. She was also a talented jewelry maker and herbalist.
“No, although that’s a great idea. I’m growing something for Dean.” After reading several of his botany magazines, Emery had gone online to find something she could grow for him that he wouldn’t think to grow himself. Something spiritual and meaningful. “I’m trying to grow a lemon tree, which symbolizes longevity, friendship, and…” She paused, wondering if Desiree would think she was out of her mind.
“And?”
“Don’t laugh, but lemons represent purification and longevity. And I’m really trying to make this relationship work and be more conscious of the things I do. Because, you know, I’m not always the best at that. So, while I learn how to be more mindful, it’s sort of a purification of myself.” She sighed and said, “I really want this to last, Des, and you know me. It might take a little help from the universe.”
“Oh, Em.” Desiree’s tone softened, and she pulled her into another hug. “You really do care about him.”
“More than I ever thought I was capable of caring for a person, other than you and my family, of course.”
“It’s a wonderful feeling, isn’t it?” Desiree’s eyes lit up. “And the fact that you’re being so introspective tells me that this is real. You’re the if-you-don’t-like-who-I-am-then-kiss-off girl.”
Emery laughed. “I’m still that girl.” She studied a beautiful painting of the sun rising over the bay, thinking about the sunrise she and Dean had watched the other morning.
“Only better,” Desiree said. “And as far as his father goes, I think I know a little something about having a less-than-perfect parent.”
“Life is so weird,” Emery said. “I had two loving, very present parents while you and Dean each had two loving parents for a while, and then Lizza turned gypsy and Dean’s dad turned into a jerk. And here I am, the one who has a hard time committing and finding love, while you two seem to know just how to handle things. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how we turn out to be the people we are, or how a parent can turn their back on their family.”
“I gave up on understanding Lizza a long time ago,” Desiree said.
“The thing is,” Emery said as she carried the picture to the counter. “I need some lessons in biting my tongue. Oh, and I want to buy this for my studio.”
“Okay, first, you’re not paying me a penny. Take it. It’s yours.” Desiree motioned toward the painting as Violet came through the door to the pleasure shop. “And second, I’m not even going to touch that lesson-on-biting-your-tongue thing. But I can give you some advice about how to keep quiet.”
“I can give you a ball gag,” Violet said.
Emery laughed. “That might be necessary.”
“And fun.” Violet snort-laughed.
Desiree shook her head at her sister. “Getting back to helpful advice…When someone says something I really want to respond to in a negative way, I count to ten before saying anything. Or at least I try to. It doesn’t always work.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’ll work for me,” Emery said. “I’m not big on self-control.”
“Obviously, given that you were riding the bearded man’s viper within hours of moving in with him,” Violet teased.
“I was not!” Emery put her hands on her hips. “I’ll have you know, I showed tremendous restraint.”
“Ah. So you are into bondage,” Violet said with a smirk. She was all sleek lines and colorful tattoos in a gray tank top and cutoffs, both of which were speckled with dried pottery clay.
“No!” Emery insisted. “I mean, maybe silk ties or something, but that’s not what I meant.” Remembering how she’d woken up in Dean’s bed and practically attacked him, she added, “I waited until I couldn’t wait anymore.”
“That must have been a painful ten minutes.” Violet glanced at the painting. “That’s a good choice. Very you. And if you’re really trying to not say something in front of someone, then you’re hanging out with the wrong people. If you can’t be yourself, why be anything at all?”
“Because it’s Dean’s dad, and he’s a total jerk, but I want to support Dean by attending a benefit dinner with him where his father is speaking.” Emery pointed at the door to the pleasure shop. “And…I kind of want to check things out in there before we go shopping.”
“You do?” Desiree’s eyes widened. “Already?”
“Don’t judge!”
“Ha! Oh yeah, baby. Let’s go.” Violet grabbed Emery’s arm and hauled her toward the back room. “Now, let’s talk ball gags…”