Chapter Fourteen
Emerson woke to the aroma of coffee. She had no idea what time it was, except that it was far too early. Coffee meant that Darcy was awake, though, so she resisted the urge to burrow deeper under the covers and go back to sleep. She opened her eyes to find Darcy setting a mug down on the bedside table. “Thanks.”
“It’s the least I can do before dragging you out of bed.”
Emerson sat up and reached for the mug. “Where are you dragging me?”
“Only to the door, I’m afraid. It’s a little after eight and Liam will be home at nine.”
Emerson sipped her coffee while her still-fuzzy mind processed Darcy’s words. Liam. Right. Darcy’s rules of engagement surely didn’t include the option of Liam coming home to find a stranger in his mom’s bed. Or a friend, for that matter. “Right. I’ll go.”
Darcy put a hand on her shoulder. “Enjoy your coffee. That’s why I woke you up now, so you wouldn’t have to rush out.”
“You’ve got a whole system, don’t you?”
Darcy shrugged. “It makes life easier.”
Emerson couldn’t fault her for that. Even if the idea of there being a system left her a little deflated. “If I haven’t said as much, I’m impressed by how together you are.”
Darcy smiled. “Thanks. I’m lucky. I have a lot of help.”
“But still, you’re doing the bulk of it on your own. You’re the one who keeps it going. And you still manage to make time for yourself. So many moms get sucked into being the martyr.”
Darcy laughed. “I still have moments of guilt.”
“You shouldn’t. I’m sure Liam is more self-sufficient and more confident because of it. And you’re setting a good example on maintaining that balance.”
Darcy’s face softened and she took a deep breath. “That might be the nicest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
“A good note to leave on, then.” Emerson climbed out of bed and pulled on her clothes from the night before.
“I had a great time last night.”
Emerson smiled. “Me, too. Does this mean we get to do it again?”
“I’d like that.”
“Look, I don’t mean to be weird or anything…”
Darcy slipped on her robe and wondered where Emerson was going. Nothing good ever followed that line. “But?”
“But I just want you to know that I’m game to hang out with you just about any time. With or without Liam. I mean, at the moment, I’m feeling partial to the non-Liam time, but I’ll take either happily.”
“Oh.” Totally not what she was expecting.
Emerson sipped her coffee, looking casual and relaxed. “I guess I wanted to say it out loud. I know you’re a one or the other kind of woman, but I’m hoping when it comes to us, we can do both/and.”
Darcy nodded, letting Emerson’s words sink in. Emerson wasn’t asking for things between them to change. Maybe she could relax a little. Liam knew she was dating and seemed completely fine with it. He certainly loved Emerson, and by all accounts the feeling was mutual. Between Liam’s show at the library and his birthday coming up, it might be nice to have Emerson there as her girlfriend.
“Why do I get the feeling I said exactly the wrong thing?”
Darcy shook her head. “No, not at all. Quite the opposite, actually.”
Emerson gave her a quizzical look. “Opposite of what?”
Darcy ran a hand through her hair. “I was thinking the both/and thing has its merits.”
“Oh. I was worried there for a second.”
Darcy picked up her coffee, which she’d set on the dresser when she came in. “If anyone is going to worry in this scenario, it’s going to be me.”
Emerson crossed the room and kissed her. A quick kiss—sweet, innocent almost. “How about neither of us worry?”
Could it be as easy as that? Say the word and no more worry? No, but she could appreciate the sentiment. And Emerson wasn’t flip; she didn’t say things because she was supposed to. “I’m not sure I can do that, but I’ll try to worry less.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Do you want a quick breakfast before you go?”
Emerson waved a hand. “No, no. I’m going to get out of your hair so you have a few minutes to yourself before Liam gets home.”
Darcy wasn’t the kind of woman who looked for signs. For the most part, she went out of her way not to read meaning into coincidences or passing comments. But she couldn’t ignore that Emerson said and did all the right things—not the perfect, movie script sort of things, but the things that mattered to her. “Thanks. I’ll see you later this week, at Liam’s show?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Darcy took their coffee cups to the kitchen, then walked Emerson to the door. When Emerson reached for the knob to open it, Darcy stopped her. She leaned in and kissed Emerson in a way that was anything but innocent. “I’ll let you know when Liam’s next sleepover is.”
Emerson’s smile was slow and sexy. “Please do. I wouldn’t want to miss that, either.”
*****
Emerson arrived home to find Will already up and gone. She’d left a note, not with her whereabouts, but a hope that Emerson’s night had been worth the wait. She even included a winky face. Emerson shook her head. It was probably for the best that she and Will hadn’t gone to college together, but these little glimpses of what it might have been like made her happy.
She contemplated a shower, but decided she’d earned going back to bed for a little while. She stripped down to her underwear and flopped on the mattress, pulling the covers up and falling asleep almost instantly. When she woke, it was nearly noon. A far more civilized hour.
Still no sign of Will. Emerson showered and got dressed. After checking the weather—mid seventies and sunny—she gathered up a large pad, easel, and portable kit of watercolors and brushes. Photos for inspiration worked fine, but there was no substitute for the real thing. She wrote Will a reply note and headed to the beach.
Since she knew she wouldn’t see Darcy at the café, Emerson made a quick stop at Cumbie’s for an iced coffee and a sandwich before making the short drive to Race Point. The lot already held a few dozen cars. High season wouldn’t kick in until July, but weekends were busy already, especially when the weather was good.
She slung her bag over her shoulder and tucked her pad and easel under her arm, then took the sandy path that led to the beach. Umbrellas dotted the sand, along with brightly colored blankets and towels. No one appeared to be swimming, but quite a few people walked along the water’s edge or waded in to their knees. Emerson set up to the left of the lifeguard stand, giving herself a view of the water as well as several of the families and couples enjoying the day.
She scanned the crowd, setting her sights on an older man who was alone. He wore a yellow Speedo and had a tan that belied the long months of winter. He lay on a towel, face up and angled toward the sun. Emerson smiled. She’d made peace ages ago that her paintings of men sold better than those of women. Even though she preferred women, she didn’t mind. And this guy was perfect.
She took some photos in case he up and left, then worked for a couple of hours, doing a light sketch before pulling out her paints. When the man left, she took a break to eat her sandwich. The beach continued to fill and she was glad she’d arrived early enough to get a good spot. When her hand began to cramp and the need to pee took on a level of urgency, she decided to call it a day. She packed up and went to her car, making a pit stop at the park restrooms.
As she climbed the stairs to her apartment, Emerson wondered what Will had been up to for the day. It likely wasn’t grocery shopping, and there wasn’t much in the house. Maybe they could go out to dinner. But when she opened the door, the air smelled of garlic. Emerson sniffed a few times. Yep, definitely garlic.
The absolute last word Emerson would use to describe her sister was domestic. So the sight of Will standing at the stove, wooden spoon in hand, took her by surprise. Clearly, something was up. “What are we celebrating?”
Will turned and flashed a grin. “I got a job.”
“That’s awesome. I want to hear all about it, but first things first. What are you making?”
“Carbonara.”
“Where did you learn that?”
“YouTube.”
Emerson laughed. Of course she learned it on YouTube. Will would try just about anything. Seeing a video online might as well be a full course on a subject. “It smells fantastic. Can you talk and cook at the same time?”
Will glared, but in a playful, sisterly way. “Yeah, although walking and chewing gum still trips me up sometimes.”
Emerson gave her an exasperated look. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Make it up to me by opening the wine I picked up. It’s in the fridge.”
“Fancy.”
“We’re celebrating. Besides, you can’t drink beer with carbonara.”
“Right.” Emerson pulled out the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, opened it, and poured two glasses. She handed one to Will, then lifted hers in a toast. “To new starts.”
“And sisters who are generous with their sofas.”
After clinking glasses, Emerson perched herself on one of the stools at the tiny breakfast bar. “Tell me everything.”
“It’s on a whale watching boat.”
Emerson, who’d taken a sip of wine, choked. When she caught her breath, she looked at Will. “I’m sorry?”
“My job. It’s on a whale watching boat.”
“I heard you. I’m just not sure I understand. You don’t know anything about boats.”
“Well, I’m not going to be driving it. Or steering it. Or whatever it is you do to a boat.”
“Yeah, but—”
“It’s like customer service. I take tickets and chat up the passengers, run the little canteen. Plus, I used to be a lifeguard. I hopefully won’t need to use those skills, but it helped that I have them.”
The way Will described it made it seem less absurd. And it’s not like whale watch boats were fishing vessels. She wouldn’t be hauling nets or chumming the water or anything like that. “What made you decide that’s what you wanted to do?”
Will plated up the pasta, going so far as to sprinkle chopped parsley over the top. She set the plates on the bar and sat on the stool next to Emerson. “I wanted something different.”
Different. That was a massive understatement. “Have you ever even been on a whale watching boat?”
Will furrowed her brow. “Before today you mean?”
“Yes, before today.”
“I don’t think so. I’ve been on other boats, though. I can’t imagine it’s all that different.”
Emerson still couldn’t figure out why Will would choose something completely new over something like bartending or working retail, which she both knew and could make good money at, especially in a place like Provincetown. Then again, Emerson had never been thrilled when Will did work in bars. Not in a judgmental way or anything, but the hours were shit. On top of that, Will got hit on. A lot. Even without Kai around to be obnoxious and stir up trouble, Will struggled to be friendly but firm when it came to unwanted attention.
Maybe this new gig wasn’t all that different from retail. Only on a boat. Either way, it was yet another example of how Will would try just about anything. Since they were kids, it was a trait Emerson both admired and envied. “That’s one way of looking at it. I’m proud of you.”
“And I can get discount tickets. You should come out sometime.”
Emerson immediately thought about Darcy and Liam. She wondered if Liam had ever been on a whale watch before. “I am definitely going to take you up on that.”
They finished eating and Will insisted on doing the dishes, even though the rule of their childhood had been that whoever did the cooking was exempt from cleaning up. It probably had to do with Will feeling guilty about crashing at her place. While unnecessary, it was a nice gesture. It was also nice to see the lightness in Will’s demeanor. She’d been so down when she arrived. And while things had been slowly improving, today was the first time she seemed like her usual, indomitable self.
Will curled up on the futon with her computer to learn as much as she could about the whales of New England and Emerson wandered over to her studio space. She needed to finish the piece she started earlier, but it would keep. She flipped through some of her recent photographs, stopping at one she took of a mother and toddler on the beach, building a sandcastle. Kids weren’t Emerson’s usual style, but she liked this one. Maybe she just had kids on the brain.
She sent it to her printer and set up a canvas. Charcoal in hand, she did a rough sketch of the figures, blocking in little more than the shapes and positions of their bodies. As much as Emerson appreciated the cash flow of commissioned pieces, she preferred using real people as no more than basic inspiration.
“I’m still amazed that you can do that.”
Emerson dropped her charcoal and nearly fell off her stool. She had not only lost track of time, she’d lost track of the fact that her sister was in the room. She hopped down to retrieve the errant charcoal. “Doing it for a living has definitely honed my skills.”
Will shook her head. “Maybe you’ve sharpened your technical skills some, but you always had the eye, the feel. If anything, you’ve gotten faster.”
Emerson smiled. “That is definitely true.”
“As impressive as it was that you got into medical school, I’m glad you’re doing this instead.”
Emerson felt the same way, even though it was still hard at times to reconcile the joy of that decision with what triggered it. “Thanks.”
“Mom and Dad would be proud, you know.”
When Will and Emerson were younger, that fact—their parents’ pride as well as Emerson’s driving need for their approval—created no small amount of friction between them. It had also been the reason Emerson applied to medical school. While they never dismissed Emerson’s talent or passion for art, it clearly couldn’t hold a candle to the financial security and prestige of becoming a doctor. “I’m not sure that’s true, but I’m okay with it.”
Will put a hand on Emerson’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, too.”
Emerson wrapped an arm around her sister and squeezed. “Now that’s saying something.”
“I mean it. I was always proud of you. I just couldn’t tell you when you were younger. You would have been insufferable.”
Emerson chuckled. “I don’t know. It might have made me slightly less jealous of you.”
Will leaned back and punched her in the arm. “Stop.”
“No, really. Well, maybe more envious than jealous, but still. You managed to be smart, athletic, and popular. The high school trifecta.”
“It’s funny how that works.” Will shook her head. “We can’t help but think the grass is greener on the other side.”
“Truth. You’re not going to be in a hurry to move out, are you? You know you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”
Will smiled. “I’m not moving out tomorrow, I promise. I do want my own place, though. An extended slumber party probably isn’t the best thing for our relationship.”
“That’s fair. I’m kind of liking it for now, though.”
“Thanks for saying that. I’m going to hit the hay. My first shift starts tomorrow at eight.”
“Ugh. What an ungodly hour.”
Will shook her head. “It’s later than I used to have to be at the store. You know, now that you’re an adult, you might want to try keeping normal hours.”
Emerson lifted her charcoal in defiance. “Never.”
Will went to get ready for bed and Emerson continued her sketch. She worked for a while longer, happy that she’d be ready to start painting the next day. By the time she flipped off the light, Will had been snoring for a good half hour. The sound remained nostalgic, but Will was right. She’d likely not feel that way in a couple of months. Even still, it was worth having Will in town. And as far away from Kai as humanly possible.