Page 31 of Emerald Moon (Pitch Mountain Pack #2)

twenty-one

“Good afternoon, sunshine,” Wil’s voice poked through Jo’s daze of leftover sleep.

They’d managed to fall back asleep for a little while after being awake all morning.

Seraphine had offered them another day off, but Jo had declined, saying they wanted to be back in the bakery.

That was partially true because they did miss being there, but they also didn’t want to continue to be a burden to the pack.

“Krista sent over a delivery.”

Jo rolled over to find Wil holding out two coffees — one hot, one iced.

“It’s sweet that she thought of me, too,” Wil said, handing over the iced coffee once Jo sat up, swinging their short legs over the side of the bed.

Taking the drink, they added, “I will never understand how you can drink hot coffee in summer.”

“Coffee is meant to be hot. That’s one of my rules. Plus you drink iced coffee in the dead of winter.” Wil shot them a look and sat down on the edge of her bed. “How are you feeling now? I saw your bed was empty earlier.”

“Couldn’t sleep anymore. It was good for me, though. I sat outside for a while.”

Dolly hopped up on the bed next to Jo, bumping her head into their side. Jo scratched her ears before running their hand down the length of her body, enjoying the way Dolly’s hind end went up as they petted her back.

“Thanks for looking out for me again,” Jo added, still looking down at Dolly.

“Any time. It’s what we do.”

“I know, but I feel like everyone has to help me so much more often than anyone else.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“It feels true!” Jo shot Wil a pitiful look. “I know it’s probably not true, but when everyone’s so nice and understanding, it's just — I don’t know — it’s a lot to ask of people.”

“Did you ask anyone for help?”

“No.”

“Then we did it all because we wanted to,” Wil said like it was that simple. “Did anything happen at the wedding to trigger this or is it just chemicals in your brain being messy?”

“Just my brain,” Jo replied. “I felt drained the morning Cass and I drove out there, but I managed to act fine for a few days, so it hit so much harder when it finally took over.”

“So the wedding went well? We haven’t really had a chance to talk about it yet.”

Jo ran through the details of the weekend, jumbled up and out of order, as they remembered what happened. Most of the time was spent sharing about working things out with June, but they also threw in all the positive reactions with family members, and skimmed over the less than positive stares.

“But it was nice no one said anything terrible out loud to our faces.”

“Even your mother?”

Jo made a sour face. “She, of course, had some choice words to say, but I may have shot some right back at her.”

Wil raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, balancing her chin on her fist, her elbow resting on her knee.

“It was short, but it was good. Basically I said I didn’t want to talk to her anymore unless she was going to be pleasant enough to earn being in my life.”

Wil’s smile stretched wider. “Good for you. I know that can’t have been easy.”

“Definitely not. The timing was awful, too.”

“Oh?”

The scene played out in Jo’s mind again and a mix of excitement and guilt swirled around inside of them. “It started when we were dancing. No, that’s not right. It was the whole night? Maybe the past few weeks?”

Jo shared what happened, everything from Cass admitting that she’d tried to kiss Jo in the tent to the actual kiss at the wedding. Their cheeks grew hot and rosy as they spoke. “And then she said she loved me.”

Wil took everything in for a beat. “Judging from how you just said that, I’m guessing it didn’t go well, but I can’t imagine why.”

“Are you sure? It’s me we’re talking about here, Wil.

I stepped in my own way, big time. I shoved both feet in my mouth.

Actually, that would have been better than what I actually did because then my dumb words couldn’t have come out instead.

I was all, like, ‘why’ and ‘it’s too soon.

’ And then she walked away and I ran into my mom and everything got gross and weird.

“But even after all that, at the end of the night when I needed someone, Cass was there for me. I’d hurt her and she shouldn’t have comforted me, but she did anyway.” Jo looked Wil in the eyes. “She is, and I mean this with all the sincerity I can muster, way too good for me.”

“But what do you want?”

“To make things right with her somehow? I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” Wil sat up, smoothing her skirt before she spoke again. “And I don’t just mean apologizing or whatever else your heart is telling you that you need to do. I mean, you know what else you want.”

Jo sank their head between their hands, tangling their fingers in their hair. “I don’t know.”

“You know, you just don’t think you deserve it.”

Jo stared at their lap. “I don’t.”

Speaking those two words out loud hurt. They meant it. In no version of the universe were they good enough for Cass. They could maybe be her friend if they got it together, but they didn’t deserve anything else with her.

Jo felt the bed dip beside them. They didn’t look over, but they felt Wil’s shirt sleeve on their arm.

“You’ve got a perspective problem. You’re too close to the canvas and you haven’t looked away in a while, so all you see are the parts you hate.

It wouldn't hurt to take a step back and view things differently.”

Despite themselves, Jo cracked a grin. It was a very Wil way to explain the situation. “I’ve only got the one brain. It sees things how it sees things.”

Wil leaned over, bumping their shoulders together. “Maybe when your brain is being less awful to you, you’ll be able to see things more clearly.”

“When I’m like this, this feels like the truest form of everything. It feels like this is the only truth and every other time I’m kidding myself and tricking everyone around me into liking me when, in reality, I’m the worst.”

“Sounds like you need some new truths, then.” Wil stood up and Jo watched her socked feet on the rug turn towards them.

They lifted their head and saw Wil standing there with her arms outstretched, palms up. She tilted her head towards the window that overlooked the front yard.

“Come on.”

“I really don’t know if I have anything left in me.”

“And if you truly don’t, I will let you rest and try again later, but if you trust me, you should come with me.”

“I’m not worth helping.”

“I highly disagree.” Wil closed and opened her palms. “Come on.”

Dolly chose that moment to roll over on the bed and make a high-pitched squeaking sound.

“See? Dolly agrees with me.”

With a heavy sigh, Jo placed both hands in Wil’s and let themselves be hoisted upright. Wil didn’t make them change, so they were surprised when they both put on shoes and walked out the front door.

“Where are we going?”

“To the bakery.”

“Oh, I am not presentable for customers right now.” Jo looked down at their wrinkled band shirt and old basketball shorts.

“Not a problem. We’re just using the kitchen in the back. You’re going to teach me how to make macarons.”

Jo stopped on the path. “I don’t know. My heart is pretty ooey-gooey right now and if I mess up, it’ll just be proof that I can’t do anything right.”

Wil spun around, her skirt swirling around her. “We’re on the hunt for truths, remember? And you need to remember that it feels nice to make something with your own hands. It’s grounding. Always helps me to paint when I feel bad. You paint with sugar.”

Jo liked the image that evoked and smiled, something small and brittle, but still there. “And a few other ingredients.”

“There’s a reason I work in the front. I know where my strengths lie. But you know I do love following a recipe. Steps give order to things. It’s lovely.” Wil shoved her hands into her pockets and rocked on the balls of her feet. “Still trust me?”

Anxiety was winning, but Wil was fairly convincing. Jo was nervous they’d get yet another thing wrong, but baking with Wil would be nice regardless. “Yeah, lead the way.”

It was still early in the afternoon, so when they got there, Emmaline was busy making magic in the back while Lock helped out.

“Just going to do some baking, if that’s alright,” Wil announced. “We’ll keep out of the way.”

Emmaline smiled at the two of them, nodding and getting back to work. Lock gave them both a wink before disappearing through the swinging doors to the front with a tray full of fresh fruit tartlets.

“Okay,” Jo said, as much to signal to Wil that they were starting as it was to prep themselves for trying to do something right. “We’ll need almond flour, powdered sugar, regular sugar, egg whites, and a pot going on the stove so we can dissolve the sugar.”

Jo felt like they were moving in slow-motion through a dream world.

They kept forgetting steps and pausing with a blank look on their face while they searched through the brain fog for what was next.

But Wil was patient, so Jo tried to be patient with themselves.

Once muscle memory took over, it was easier to remember what to do, but tougher to remember to explain to Wil what they were doing.

Wil took it in stride, though, watching Jo and keeping up with her own batch of macarons.

When they started to pipe the mixture for the macaron shells, Jo noticed Wil’s was a little runnier than it should be. “It should be a little thicker than lava,” they said.

Wil gave them a puzzled look. “How do I know what the consistency of lava is?”

Jo shrugged, stepping over to help fold in more dry ingredients. “I don’t know. A recipe book I used to learn how to make these said that and it stuck. Just, like, imagine what lava looks like on TV and stuff and make it a little thicker than that.”

Wil laughed and Jo felt themselves on the brink of laughter, too, but it didn’t quite bubble over.

With the macaron shells in the oven, Jo showed Wil how to make a strawberry cream she picked to fill their macarons.

They were halfway through piping the filling when they realized they felt a whole lot less awful than they did before.

The tiredness remained, but the spiraling thoughts had grown quieter.

Wil had been right, like she always was.

Jo looked over at where Wil was bent over at her station, eyebrows scrunched together as she focused on piping, and they smiled, the first genuine one since they’d smiled with Cass at the wedding before everything exploded.