“So, let me get this straight. Your husband left you holding the bag without any financial nest egg. Your mother got kicked out of the retirement home, forcing you to take care of her here. And, to top it all off, you fell into Nash’s lap causing an ice cream explosion all over you and him. Am I missing any updates?”

Emmy sighed. “And my boss called me this morning. I lost my position at the hospital. They can’t afford to wait around for me to figure out the situation with my mother.”

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

“Wave a magic wand?” Emmy wasn’t one to cry a lot, but right now she felt like it might be a good option. Just let the waterworks flow and get it all out. But, as her mother had always reminded her, when the crying was over the problems remained.

“Okay, let’s start with the problems one by one.”

“Your Mom used to say that,” Emmy said with a smile.

“I sure do miss my Momma. She had all the best advice. But she was right. If you look at each problem on its own, it’s a lot more manageable.”

“None of this feels manageable,” Emmy said, taking a sip of her coffee. She stared through the plate glass window of the coffee shop and watched people going about their business.

They looked so happy. So serene. So without problems. But here she sat - going through a divorce with no money, no job, a crazy mother and sticky ice cream between her boobs. How did that nut even get stuck in there?

“Earth to Emmy,” Debbie said, waving her hand in front of Emmy’s face as she fished the errant nut out of its cleavage hiding spot.

“Sorry. I was just… pondering.”

“You’ve always pondered too much,” Debbie said as she opened another sugar package and poured it into her already sugar-laden latte. “Look, this isn’t the end of the world. I’ll help you as much as I can to get your mother situated, and I know enough people here to get you on at the hospital…”

“I can’t take a job here, Deb. That would mean I’m staying. And I’m most assuredly not staying in Whiskey Ridge.”

Debbie chuckled and rolled her eyes. “What in the world do you have against this place? It’s beautiful, the people are nice, the pace is slow…”

“And the memories are ever-present and not always good…”

“Emmy, it’s been more than a ten years since Nash left Whiskey Ridge. You guys had an amazing love story, and then it ended. Why can’t you just let it go?”

Emmy bit her lip and leaned her head back. Why couldn’t she get over it? She wanted to say it out loud. She wanted to tell Debbie that there was a lot more to what happened with Nash than she had ever told anyone, that there were secrets that only the two of them knew. But she bit her lip hard enough to keep from opening a can of worms she would never be able to close.

“You’re right. It’s old news, and apparently I’m going to have to deal with Nash for at least a little while. Avoidance is the only tactic I can use now.”

* * *

Nash sat in the basement with the dark drapes blocking out any little bit of light that might peek through. Only the TV flickered in the distance with some second-rate 80s movie playing.

He wasn’t watching it anyway. Instead, he was staring at his phone, trying unsuccessfully to stop stalking Emmy’s social media pages.

He felt like a loser for reading about her life like this, but once he’d seen her it was like the floodgates had opened. He wanted to know more. Where had she been? Was she married? Did she have kids? He pored over every picture like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to post a lot of info about her life, and there were only a few older pictures that friends from their high school days had tagged her in.

“Turn some damn lights on down here!” his brother shouted as he descended the stairs. Dang plush carpeting kept Nash from hearing him in time. His brother bumped into the back of the couch, peering over Nash’s shoulder before he could stop him. “Emmy? What the hell are you looking at her for?”

Ah, Billy. His father’s favorite son, and his pain in the butt older brother.

“I thought you were in Tennessee this week?” Nash said without looking up. Billy fell into the chair next to him and popped open a beer before slamming his dirty cowboy boot up on the coffee table.

“Nah. I finished up my work there this morning. No reason to stick around. Besides, I’ve got a hot date tonight.”

“With?” Nash feigned interest as he continued scrolling through Emmy’s posts from two years before.

“Hot blond with big boobs that I met at the bar last weekend. Susie. No, wait. Stella. No… Damn, I can’t remember her name.”

Billy had always been a player. Even in his thirties, he had no apparent interest in settling down and starting a family. Nash had wanted a family once upon a time. Now he wasn’t sure what he wanted, other than to get the heck out of Whiskey Ridge.

“Nice,” he said in a monotone voice, hoping his brother would get out of his space sooner rather than later.

“So I ask again, why are you looking at Emmy?”

Nash sighed when it became apparent that Billy wasn’t going anywhere. He put his phone back in his pocket. “I ran into her today, that’s all.”

Billy opened another beer and passed it to Nash. “Dang. Emmy Moore, back in Whiskey Ridge. Never thought I’d see the day. She bolted out of here just about as fast as you did.”

“Apparently her mother got kicked out of the retirement home.”

Billy let out a big laugh. “I can see that.”

Nash finally cracked a smile before downing a swig of beer. “Me too.”

“I never understood why ya’ll broke up,” Billy said offhandedly.

Nash’s chest tightened. “Young love doesn’t last.”

Billy stared at his brother for a long moment. “Yeah, I don’t buy it.”

“You don’t buy what?”

“Man, you were all wound up about that girl, and then suddenly you split up with her and leave town and never come back. What the hell happened?”

Nash could feel his jaw tightening, even with muscle relaxers surging through his blood. “None of your damn business, Billy.”

Billy held up his hands. “Chill out, dude. It was just a question.” He stood up and headed upstairs, but not before stopping halfway up. “But let’s just say your reaction after all these years speaks volumes.”

* * *

“What on God’s green earth happened to you?” Pauline asked as Emmy appeared in the kitchen where her mother was sitting, having her regular cup of evening coffee.

“I had a little mishap at the pharmacy.” Emmy poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter.

“Did you fight with Jimbo who drives the ice cream truck?”

“Ha ha ha,” Emmy said dryly.

“Go ahead and tell me what happened, Em. You know I’ll find out anyhow. Small towns work that way.”

Emmy put her mug down on the counter and crossed her arms. “Fine. I ran into Nash.”

“And he threw ice cream at you?”

“No, mother, of course not. And it isn’t funny. I had no idea he was back in Whiskey Ridge.”

“Well, that makes two of us. Never thought I’d see the day he darkened Brick’s door again. His daddy is a royal jackass!”

“Mama, please… I already have a headache.”

“You have a peanut stuck to your shirt,” Pauline pointed out. Emmy wondered if Debbie saw it and just decided it was too funny to point out. “So, you ran into Nash. And then what happened?”

“I fell into his lap while holding a giant banana split.”

“His lap? How on Earth did you manage that one?”

“He’s in a wheelchair right now. His bull stepped on him.”

“Good Lord, this story just keeps on getting better and better,” Pauline said with a chuckle as she took a sip of her coffee.

“It’s really not funny, mother.” Emmy poured out her remaining coffee and rinsed her cup.

“You know, if you’d look at life a little less seriously, I reckon you might be a whole lot happier.”

“Point taken. I’m going to get a nice, hot shower. Then I’m going to wrap myself up in my blanket and watch TV on my computer until I pass out.”

Emmy started walking up the hallway toward her room. “Sounds like quite a party!” her mother called out to her, the sound of her laughter filling the small house.

* * *

“Emmy Moore?” the woman called from behind the counter. Emmy stood, her resume in one hand and her far too large handbag in the other. “Mr. Wayne will see you now.”

Mr. Wayne, the head of HR for Whiskey Ridge Hospital, had done a personal favor for Debbie by allowing Emmy to interview. She was sure they had far better applicants for the position she was seeking, but right now she wasn’t above using the “it’s who you know” excuse. She needed a job, and fast.

Her mounting debt back in Atlanta and the daily calls from collection agencies wasn’t helping her mental state at all. On top of that, dealing with her mother’s shenanigans and lapses in memory were fraying her already frazzled nerves.

“Hello, Emmy. Nice to meet you,” Mr. Wayne said with a broad smile. He wasn’t what she expected. He was young, probably close to her age, and lean with thick brown hair. Her mother would’ve said he had a “swimmer’s build” with his muscular yet wiry frame.

“Nice to meet you too, sir,” Emmy said, immediately wanting to take back the sir part. It just didn’t feel authentic given their close proximity in age.

“Please, call me David.” She nodded before walking past him into the office, taking a seat in the chair across from his very organized desk.

Not much had changed about Whiskey Ridge Hospital in all the years she’d been away. Of course, she had only darkened its doors for the occasional visit to see a sick relative.

Still, the hospital appeared stuck somewhere in time with its dated decor and musty smell.

“I’m glad you could come on such short notice, Emmy. I’ve heard some great things about you,” David said as he took a seat at his desk and straightened his line of pens. One thing was apparent - he had OCD big time. Everything on his desk was at right angles.

“Well, thank you for seeing me so quickly. I know you have a line of people interviewing for this job.”

“Jobs are a bit hard to come by around here, but I was impressed by your credentials. Debbie told me you were a physical therapist in Atlanta?”

“Yes. I worked for a private group, but we worked out of one of the largest hospitals there. I really enjoyed it.”

“Do you have a specialty?”

“Well, I worked with all types of things. Sports injuries were a big part of our patients, mainly from football teams and a few baseball players. We also worked with car accident victims, although some had to go to the spinal center instead of just regular physical therapy.”

“It sounds like you would be more than qualified for this position. In fact, I’m a little concerned that it wouldn’t be challenging enough for you.”

“Oh, please don’t think that. In fact, I’d welcome a little slower pace.”

“I don’t mean to pry, Emmy, but can I ask why you would leave such a successful life behind in Atlanta to come back to Whiskey Ridge?”

Emmy swallowed hard. There were so many answers to that question, and none of them were anything she wanted to talk about with a perfect stranger.

“My mother is here, and she needs my help right now.” Maybe that would suffice as an explanation as to why she had fled Atlanta.

“Understood. My parents are getting elderly too, but thankfully my brother lives close to them and can help out.”

“Yeah, that’s great,” Emmy said, plastering a fake smile on her face. Right now, she really just wanted to finish the interview, get the job and gorge on the banana split she missed out on a few days ago.

“Well, listen, I don’t think there’s any reason to beat around the bush. You have the job if you want it.”

“Really? Oh, wow. Thanks so much. When do I start?”

“Actually, if you could start tomorrow morning, that would be a big help. We have a backlog of therapy patients that have been traveling to the next town over for care. We’re going to keep you very busy, Ms. Moore.”

Emmy smiled. “Good. I like to be busy.” And right now, being busy was a godsend.