What a way to go unnoticed in a person’s hometown. Nothing more incognito than fainting at your own Welcome Back party.
Emilia rolled her eyes and let out a groan as she sprawled out on the couch and thought about what a fiasco last night had turned into. Everything was going wonderfully until Dakota mentioned Josh, and then all of a sudden, it was as if her life had zipped right back to high school.
So many emotions came rushing back that she couldn’t handle the pressure of all the thoughts swirling around. It was mortifying. She would have much rather fainted over actual dehydration while talking to the Sheriff, not Dakota.
She was sure word got right back to Josh about her fainting spell. That is if he even cared one way or another. There she went again, actually pretending he even remembered who she was. Although Dakota certainly did.
Creating a new life was the easy part. Coming back to the old one was far more trying than she ever realized, and she hadn’t even gotten to the hard parts yet. All she did was show up for a meet and greet and manage to royally make it one for the record books. It didn’t help that someone had called the paramedics and Kyle North showed up. Another North blast from the past.
Emilia closed her eyes and pulled a blanket over her body as she thought about whether she was really up to driving by her grandparents’ home this morning. She knew she definitely wasn’t up for visiting the cemetery like she’d planned, but that could happen on another day.
With her eyes closed, Emilia thought back to Dakota and the way she’d looked at her. Emilia knew she owed her an apology, but last night hadn’t seemed like the right place. Emilia was happy that Dakota had offered her a tour of her studio so she could go there and privately apologize. She also wanted to see Dakota’s passion.
She knew she owed an apology to Dakota’s brother as well. That was going to be a lot more difficult, especially since he lived in New York, but of all people, he deserved one more than anyone.
When Emilia arrived in Silver Ridge at her grandparents’ home, she knew in her heart she was never going back to live with her parents. That was the unspoken truth she knew deep in her heart that even Mama Cam and Papa Jack wouldn’t admit.
Of course, there were the optimistic social workers who thought a pizza party with the parents could solve everything, but there were also the other more experienced caseworkers who understood that some parents didn’t want to parent.
Or they simply couldn’t.
Knowing that didn’t make it better or worse, it just was.
Emilia never knew which box her parents fit into other than the fact that their disease chose for them, and she was luckier than most because she had terrific grandparents who took her in. Many children aren’t that lucky, and they get caught up in the system with nowhere to run.
So when she finally landed in Silver Ridge after getting bounced around temporary foster homes before the social workers solidified everything with her grandparents, she knew this place was her only shot at a halfway normal place to grow up.
It was Josh and Dakota who took her in immediately and made her feel like her family went beyond only her grandparents. Josh had shielded her from the darkness that often wanted to take over her teenage years. He’d protected her from the hurts that her parents caused by reminding her of the love her grandparents gave her.
Josh had loved her unconditionally, as had Dakota. But what neither of them understood was that more than anything, she wanted her parents’ love. She appreciated her Mama Cam and Papa Jack more than anything in the world, and she loved them deeper than she ever thought possible, but underneath all of that, she still wanted her parents’ love and acceptance.
Emilia wanted to be important enough to her parents to make them stop.
To put their daughter as a priority.
To make them love her.
To make them remember her.
She wanted to be a significant part of her parents’ lives.
It wasn’t until her grandparents were killed that she realized Hailee wasn’t worth remembering.
So arose the existence of Emilia Hudson, a woman one couldn’t forget and would always remember. Emilia wasn’t sure how she was going to make that happen. It wasn’t that she wanted to become famous. That was the least of her desires, but she wanted to feel important, as if she mattered.
And it just so happened that getting letters asking for advice did precisely that for Emilia.
Or at least it used to.
Emilia grabbed a tissue and blew her nose precisely when a text message came across her cellphone. Of course, it was her pesky agent barging into her life at the most inopportune time.
But what he had to text this time caught her eye, and she nearly fainted yet again.
We’ve got a seven-figure deal on the table, Emilia. Don’t stop now. Get another post up. I’m taking this offer and hoping we get a counter from one of the other publishing houses, but I think this is the moment we’ve been waiting for. You did it, Emilia! Now, don’t screw it up.
Emilia laughed at the last bit of advice from her agent as an enormous surge of excitement and uncertainty completely took her by surprise. She felt like a wave was about to sweep her up into a publishing sea she wouldn’t recognize and possibly couldn’t navigate. Her hands were shaking with fear and trepidation as she stared at her agent’s text and tried to wrap her head around the sum of money.
Seven figures. As in more than six figures. And Emilia would have been happy with five or ten thousand but would have taken less.
She let out a shaky breath, and in all of her excitement, she realized there wasn’t a soul she could call about her good news. Even with all of her friends in Oregon, there wasn’t one that she felt like picking up the phone and telling them the good news.
Emilia could call her parents, but their relationship hadn’t really gone to that place yet where news like this was openly shared. Not to mention, they were still trying to get their lives back on track, and revealing she was up for a deal worth this much money wasn’t exactly the best idea. She’d already loaned them twelve thousand dollars several months ago to help them out, and while they vowed it was only a loan, she knew better and was purely grateful she could help them in a time of need. She didn’t want it to look like she was bragging about her situation.
Instead of feeling sorry for herself, she decided the people who would be most excited to hear about her news were also excellent listeners—the best, actually.
She grabbed her purse and keys and headed out the door to the local cemetery to visit Mama Cam and Papa Jack.
By the time she’d wound through the gates and up the rolling hill to where her grandparents were buried, her phone had gone off several more times. This wasn’t exactly how she’d planned on visiting Mama Cam and Papa Jack. She’d intended to go to the florist and pick up some flowers before stopping by, but she desperately needed someone to talk to now.
I got another publishing house on the line. This is getting good.
She had no idea how her agent was managing all of this, but she was undoubtedly grateful, if not wholly petrified. Emilia scrolled down to the newest text that was waiting for a reply.
We just got a preempt. The publisher is demanding an answer in two hours. I’ve shot an email over to you with the numbers involved. Reply ASAP.
Emilia wasn’t entirely sure what a preempt was, but it sounded important, urgent, and kind of significant. But Emilia had come here to talk about everything with her grandparents, and that was precisely what she intended to do. She got out of the car and pulled the map out of her purse to make sure she went in the right direction. She slowly wandered along the grass until she found the large oak tree and two gravestones right beneath it where Papa Jack and Mama Cam were laid to rest. It was probably better she didn’t bring flowers since the ground was still frozen and she wouldn’t have been able to undo the built-in vases.
She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly as she stared at Mama Cam’s epitaph,
Whisper my name, and I’ll always hear your call.
Tears welled up in Emilia’s eyes as she sniffled, feeling nearly two decades’ worth of guilt pummeling her for not visiting the grave of the woman who’d loved her more than life itself. She sobbed a little more and looked at Papa Jack’s gravestone and had to laugh.
He’d probably been in heaven, impatiently waiting for Emilia to finally visit his gravesite and get one last chuckle with him. She sniffled, and the tears traded for laughter as she read Papa Jacks’s epitaph,
Damn, it’s dark down here. Grab me a flashlight, will ya?
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get that joke, Papa Jack. But it’s precisely what I needed.” Emilia bent over and used her hands to dust off the frozen pine needles from both her grandparents’ gravestones.
“A lot has been going on, but you know most of it since I talk to you both nearly every day.” She let out a sigh. “I got an offer on my book proposal. It’s a preempt, which I think means one publisher wants it so bad, they offered a huge chunk to stop the bidding war that was about to take place. I’d like to say it’s because my writing is so good, but the truth is that I haven’t written a page of it yet, so I must have a good agent. It seems like an awful lot of money to write about relationships and answer more questions from readers, but I’d be foolish to turn it down, right?”
Emilia stared at the ground and felt oddly comforted until her phone interrupted her.
There’s a catch to the deal.
There always was, wasn’t there? Emilia quickly typed back.
What’s the catch?
Her agent replied just as quickly.
The publishing house doesn’t want us to concentrate on what our proposal outlined.
Emilia’s brows furrowed and she replied.
What do they want me to focus on? It’s supposed to be all about the readers, with more questions and answers and fun little anecdotes.
He wrote back.
Yeah. That’s not what the publisher wants.
Emilia let out a grunt and typed back.
Then what do they want?
She could see it took her agent two or three times before finally phrasing his next text just right.
The editor wants you to write about your transitional years.
A bit of panic rose in Emilia.
What do you mean, my transitional years?
Her agent was quick to reply.
The time that shaped your views on dating. They want you to concentrate on high school and maybe some college. They want to hear about your relationships that have most affected who you’ve become today and why you give the advice you do.
That didn’t make sense.
Why?
Her agent was ready with the answer.
They think it will be more exciting and will touch more readers. The publishing house thinks they need to offer the public something that your blog doesn’t, which is more of an insight as to who you, Emilia Hudson, are.
Very few people knew about how Emilia Hudson came to be, but her agent was one of them.
Are you saying they want me to write about me before Emilia Hudson?
Emilia impatiently waited for her agent’s reply.
You mean Hailee Howard? Yes. That is precisely what I’m saying. I happened to mention you had a high school boyfriend you hadn’t really gotten over and they loved that idea.
Emilia’s stomach clenched, and she texted back.
I’m sure they did, but that wasn’t something for world consumption.
He wrote back, knowing he was losing Emilia.
But there is a good story there.
His answer only annoyed Emilia.
My life isn’t a story.
His retort was nothing short of what Emilia expected.
But it could be, especially for seven figures.
Emilia texted back a self-righteous message.
Life isn’t about money.
She looked at her screen, satisfied.
No, but happiness is.
Emilia let out a disgruntled sigh.
That’s not true.
She saw he was up for the fight, and she couldn’t blame him. A lot of money was on the line, but it would involve the reliving of things that she’d tried to lock away.
How do you know if you don’t have any? You really ought to give it a try.
“What do you think I ought to do, Mama Cam?” Just as Emilia asked the question, a misplaced white-tailed grouse flew to the grass and pecked at the frozen ground before flying off. She took it as a sign and sent a message off to her agent.
Alright. I’ll do it.
A few seconds went by before she got a two-word reply. She could sense her agent’s disbelief.
You will?
Emilia couldn’t believe she’d just agreed to a seven-figure deal with a major publishing house, and it was all done over text.
I will.
Another text came over.
One more thing.
An unsettled feeling washed over Emilia with her agent’s last text. She hoped she hadn’t just signed a deal with the devil.
It wasn’t me who mentioned your previous persona. That was the proposal the publisher came to me with. All I said was your high school boyfriend. Just thought you’d like to know you can trust your shifty little agent, but they somehow knew about your other life.
Emilia chuckled and shook her head. He was always trying to cover his own butt.
But it did make Emilia wonder how these people would know anything about her. Unless they read every single blog post she’d ever written and had somehow pieced together bits and pieces from her past, they really wouldn’t know about Hailee. But that wasn’t what concerned her the most. What worried her the most was that whatever she came up to write about wasn’t going to be nearly as interesting to them as they might think it ought to be for that much money.
One last text came over from her agent, and it finally felt real.
I’ll email the contract over once I receive it and look it over. Now, go enjoy your vacation. Remember, it’s not a deal until the ink dries.
Emilia’s hands trembled as she realized the enormity of this moment. Even with the ground as frozen as an ice rink, she knelt down and touched Papa Jack’s gravestone and let out one last sob of pain for all the years she’d spent far away, pretending to be someone she wasn’t.