Page 24

Chapter twenty-four

Emmett Foster

“June is likely to bowl you over when she sees you,” I say as I turn onto the road that passes through downtown Franklin. We’re finally out of Nashville. While I don’t mind the city–I’ve certainly traveled to worse ones–I prefer Franklin. It’s quieter and makes for a much more pleasant drive.

“She missed me?” Hazel asks, as if there were a possibility of that not being the case.

“She cried and held the teddy bear you got her in New York last night. This morning I forgot chocolate chips in the pancakes and almost didn’t make it out of the house alive.”

I see Hazel smile out of the corner of my eye.

“Chocolate chips are vital to a good pancake. Who’s staying with her right now?”

I heave a sigh. “Emerson.”

She laughs and the sound washes over me like a summer breeze. “He’s going to be incorrigible when I show up.”

“He already was when I said why I needed him to watch June.”

I shake my head as I recall the relentless teasing and questions. He asked me right before I left if I knew when I was going to propose. I told him to take a long walk off the edge of the cliff his house is built into. He replied, “Then who would take care of June while you profess your love?”

“Who’s Emerson?” Raven asks from the backseat. She hasn’t said much on our drive. Hazel relayed the conversation with her mom as she nodded along. I had to grip the wheel to keep my composure. Hazel and Raven deserve better than narcissistic apologies wrapped in self-despondency. Hearing all of it made me grateful for my parents, that’s for sure.

“He’s one of the players on Emmett’s team,” Hazel answers, then turns in her seat to face Raven. “And also too old for you.”

I spy Raven wrinkle her nose in the rearview mirror. “Why would you say that? It’s not like I’m going to want to date him if he’s too old for me.”

Considering the number of teen girls that ask for Emerson’s signature…it’s likely she’ll be eating her words in a few short minutes. The look on Hazel’s face says she feels the same. A wave of insecurity hits me, but I push it away. If Hazel wanted to date Emerson, she could have made that known at any point.

It’s difficult not to have that moment of uncertainty, though. Shelby made sure of that. After she left, I combed over our relationship and realized how often she made comments about other men. I didn’t notice it at the time, I was too busy with my career and bending over backwards to make her happy. Now that Hazel is here, the past is coming back in little things like this. It’s like I’m walking around the deepest, darkest parts of my heart with a flashlight. I’m not sure what I’m going to come across next.

I pull onto my street. The trees form a canopy above us, streams of sunlight breaking through at various points.

“I love this road,” Hazel comments. She’s gazing out the window with a soft smile on her lips.

I think back to her saying home and meaning my house. It could have been a simple slip-up, but something tells me she considers my home hers. She seemed embarrassed, but she shouldn’t be, because it took less than a day of her being gone for me to realize my house wasn’t a home without her in it.

We pull down the driveway and Hazel sits up straighter in her seat. When I pull into the garage and look over at her, her entire expression is lighter. Could she really love it here that much?

“You’re going to adore June,” Hazel says to her sister as we all get out of my truck. “She’s so sweet and smart too. She’d probably listen to your weird archaeology facts.”

“They’re not weird,” Raven replies. “They’re interesting . Much more interesting than those crochet tutorials you watch on YouTube.”

“Those tutorials got you a new beanie, thank you very much,” Hazel sasses.

It’s entertaining to see her in this sisterly mode. I hope that she’ll be able to have these kinds of moments more often in the future. I don’t know how possible that will be if her mom is going to need rehab, which I suspect she will.

“And my weird facts got me an internship,” Raven sasses right back.

I open the garage door to head inside.

“Daddy?” June calls out, sliding into view, wearing a mishmash of different dress-up costumes and long socks on her feet. “Daddy!” She runs toward me but turns at the last second, her volume increasing ten notches when she screams, “ Miss Hazel! ”

Hazel laughs and catches June as she jumps up into her arms. “Hey, sweet pea, I missed you.”

I’m smiling at their embrace when someone clears their throat from behind me. I turn around and can’t help the laughter that shoots out of me at the sight of Emerson. He’s got a tutu around his waist, a tiara tucked into his blond hair, stickers all over his arms, and glitter all over his face.

Emerson raises a brow. “ This is what makes you laugh? I’ve cracked a million jokes, but no , it’s my humiliation that does you in.”

Hazel joins my laughter as she walks to my side, June clinging to her like a monkey from the monkeys in a barrel game.

“Did you have fun playing dress-up?” Hazel asks.

Emerson scowls at her teasing tone.

“We had lots of fun! We’re fairy princesses,” June says as she jumps down. When she turns around, she crosses her arms. “Mr. Emerson, where are your wings? You can’t be a fairy princess without wings.”

“Wings are a requirement for being a fairy,” Hazel says, looking at me with laughter sparkling in her green eyes.

“Oh, I see, make fun of the guy who wanted to make your daughter smile.” He wiggles out of the tutu, and Hazel covers her mouth. “I’m going home. If I’m not at least a groomsman in your wedding, I’m going to sue.”

“For what?” I ask as he storms by.

“Reckless–harassment or–I don’t know! I’ve got enough money to pay a lawyer to tell me.” He walks out in a huff.

“I’ve never seen him so worked up,” I say with a half-laugh.

“I think it was your laughter. He probably expected more of your usual gruff tolerance,” Hazel says.

“You don’t have to worry about me liking him, that’s for sure,” Raven adds with a laugh. “Too many sparkles for my taste.”

“I think Mr. Emerson took my crown,” June says, her brows pushed together.

“I’m sure he’ll bring it back, sweet pea.” Hazel runs a hand over June’s curls. She’s on the verge of laughter again. Happiness is a good look on her. “I wanted to introduce you to my sister, Raven.”

June looks up at Raven. “Do you like unicorns?”

“Who doesn’t?” Raven answers.

Hazel and I share a knowing look, recalling her interview here. I never would have thought we’d end up where we are now. In fact, I remember advocating against this very thing. But I can’t say I’d go back and change what’s happened over our time together.

June tilts her head to the right. “Does that mean yes?”

Raven smiles down at her. “Yes, it does.”

“Yay! Do you want to see my playroom? I have a unicorn you can ride on,” June tells her with wide eyes.

Raven looks to Hazel, who nods for her to go. Raven follows after a skipping June, leaving Hazel and me alone.

“Well, that cheered me up,” Hazel says as she runs a hand through her hair. “But I’m not sure I’m ready to jump back into June’s fast-paced schedule. She seems to only have one speed and it’s of the hyper variety.”

“Don’t worry about trying to keep up with her. I’ll make sure she knows you need rest. Do you want to go find Raven in a minute and then you two can settle into your rooms? I’ll keep June busy while you nap.”

Hazel smiles. “That’s sweet of you, but I think I want to hold off on sleep for now. I might find something to eat in the kitchen, if that’s okay? Then lie down on the couch. Maybe I can calm June down enough to watch Tangled together.”

“Let me cook something for you,” I say, and she shakes her head.

“You’ve done more than enough for me already, Emmett. I can eat a bowl of cereal or something.”

“It will make me feel better to know you’ve had more than pretzels and half a breakfast sandwich. Let me take care of you, Wildflower.”

She presses her lips to the side like she’s trying not to cry. “Okay, but nothing too involved.”

“How about a grilled cheese sandwich?”

Her shining eyes crinkle at the edges. “That sounds perfect.”

“Good. Why don’t you go and get comfy on the couch while I make it?”

She nods, but something in her expression tells me that’s not what she wants.

“Or…you could hang out in the kitchen while I cook? It won’t take long.”

The light returns to her eyes again. I’m sure she feels as uncertain as I do about whatever this is between us, so that’s likely why she feels she can’t say what she really wants. I’ll have to make sure she knows she can ask me for anything, and it’s hers. But I don’t want to have that conversation now, not with her being so fragile and exhausted.

Soon, though. Soon I’ll sort through the dark parts of my heart and piece together what’s left to give to her. Hopefully she won’t mind that what I have isn’t much compared to what she’s already given me.