“I don’t know. I’m sure she had her reasons.” But in all honesty, Sarah couldn’t relate. Not a day went by without her telling Grace how much she loved her, how valuable she was.
“Maybe it’s just who we are, the Owen family. Not exactly a warm and fuzzy bunch. I shouldn’t let this get to me. I hate that I care so much.” Emory wiped her eyes and turned back to face Sarah apologetically. “I’m usually a much stronger person than this, I promise.”
“Trust me, I get that. But the thing is, you don’t have to be strong right now, Emory. You’re upset, and you’re grieving. Anyone who has ever lost someone knows that grief happens in cycles. Allow yourself the time you need to deal with this.”
Emory took one last look at the disappearing sun and ran her hands through her hair. “I’m going to have a beer. I think I’ve earned it,” she half laughed. “Can I bring you one?”
Sarah considered the offer and decided the day’s events warranted accepting the invitation. “Sure. A beer would be great.”
Emory was gone longer than was necessary, and when she returned Sarah could tell that she’d straightened herself up a bit and washed her face. Gone was the little bit of makeup Emory usually wore, her face now fresh, clean, and sporting just a slight tan. She was maybe even more attractive this way, Sarah thought as Emory handed her a bottle. She probably had no trouble in the man department, or woman department, she mentally corrected herself, recalling the information she’d just learned.
Emory sat. “So I should apologize. I snapped at you earlier about the journals, and that was wrong of me. Somehow, you knew I needed to see what was in them, and as hard as it is to admit, you were right. I’m sorry for speaking to you the way I did.”
Sarah lowered the Dos Equis bottle from her lips. “Don’t give it another thought.” She smiled for a moment before continuing. “I just told myself that was your ‘I call all the shots’ executive voice.”
Emory laughed out loud. “I guess maybe it was.” She studied Sarah. “Is that what you get from me? That I need to call all the shots?”
Sarah looked thoughtful for a moment. “Is it wrong of me to say yes?”
Emory laughed again. “No, it’s not.”
“You’re the type of person who is used to having things done a certain way…yours. That’s not a bad thing. It’s probably why you’re so successful. Trust me, I’m taking notes.” She smiled then, and took another pull from her beer.
“Why is that? Do you have aspirations in the corporate world? With your organization skills, someone would snatch you right up.”
“Yes and no. I graduated with my bachelor’s in business administration from UC San Diego two years ago.”
Emory sat up a little straighter, seemingly puzzled. “Really? I had no idea. I guess I just assumed—”
“That because I’m Hispanic and work for a cleaning agency I have virtually no education?” Sarah raised her left eyebrow expectantly.
Emory paled a little.
“It’s not a big deal. I’m only teasing you. Though I’m sorry to ruin the stereotype. The truth is my mother owns the agency I work for, and I’ve been working alongside her since I was a teenager. Typically, I handle the books, the marketing, and the outside vendors. Occasionally, during busy seasons like this one, I pick up a job or two to help out.”
“What made you decide to go to school?”
“I wanted to learn how to better develop the business. I think we have the potential to grow into something much bigger than what we are right now and I have a lot of ideas. I just have to convince my mother to hear me out. Baby steps.”
Emory regarded her skeptically. “The thought is noble, Sarah, and I don’t mean to pry here, but you have to think about yourself and what’s best for you. You could take your business degree, go out into the corporate world, and ascend the ranks, create a successful career of your own. Your mother will survive without you.”
Sarah shook her head, smiling. “My family is everything to me, and the business is where my heart is. I plan to have a very important career, but it will be with Immaculate Home.”
Emory didn’t seem convinced. “I guess if that’s what makes you happy. What does your husband think?”
“Not married,” Sarah stated matter-of-factly. “Grace’s father and I divorced when I was twenty-one. We were married for exactly eighty-six days. She was still a baby when I kicked him out. Not long after, he got into some trouble, and lucky for me, we haven’t heard from him since. It’s just Grace and me.”
“Then that’s all the more reason for you to aim high.”
“And that’s exactly what I’m doing. I have a list of changes for Immaculate Home that I think could take us to the next level. You’re an entrepreneur yourself. Surely you understand what it’s like to have a vision.”
Emory bowed her head in submission. “Of course I do. I hope it all works out. In fact, I’m sure it will.”
It was completely dark an hour later when they finally brought their conversation to a close and headed in separate directions. It had been a welcome evening for Sarah, if not an unexpected one. She and Emory were from two entirely different worlds and with that seemed to come a freedom to speak candidly. Sarah felt more and more comfortable as the conversation went on. Then again, that second beer hadn’t hurt matters either.
As they walked out to their cars together, Emory hesitated before looking sideways at Sarah. “Tonight was kind of unscheduled, huh?”
Sarah smiled and leaned against her car. “A little. But I enjoyed seeing you relax some.” She gestured to the journals Emory carried with her. “Do you plan to read all of them?”
Emory thought for a moment. “I think I need to. It’ll be hard, and it may be something I have to do little by little, but I need to know the real her.” Emory started to go before turning back. “I should say thank you. You know, for being there for me tonight.”
“No problem. Good night, Emory.” Sarah watched Emory descend the steep driveway to her car, somehow unable to turn away until she was inside. She pushed herself off her own car and shook her head at the surprising turn the night had taken.
Chapter Five
The following Monday morning offered up one of the more beautiful days only Southern California can. It was an even seventy-three degrees without a single cloud marring the crystal blue sky. Sarah blasted the radio, set to Grace’s favorite station, as she made her way to drop Grace at day camp. They sang along, enjoying the morning together. They’d spent an extra ten minutes getting the French braid in Grace’s hair just right so she’d look as cool as Alyssa Martinez, her new friend and idol at camp. But at last they’d done it, and Grace was now in high spirits. “So will you be spending the day at the mansion again?” Grace asked dramatically over the music.
“Yep, still a lot to do over there, but if I work hard this week, I just might be able to finish up the packing so the movers can come and transport the boxes. And then, my little girl, you and I can spend next week relaxing and doing anything we want.” Grace’s eyebrows rose in imaginative anticipation. “Within reason,” she amended.
“Sounds fun to me. Maybe we can go swimming and I can show you what Miss Kathy taught me. I can do the backstroke,” she declared, her eyes wide. “It’s amazing.”
“Wow, you are really coming along with those swimming lessons. I’m raising a little caballa.”
Grace laughed. “A what?”
“It means mackerel in Spanish. It’s a type of fish.”
“That’s me all right!” Grace was clearly proud of herself. “A fish!”
“Are you remembering to pay attention to how tired you feel?”
Grace sighed. “Yes, ma’am. Miss Kathy asks me how I’m doing about a million times a lesson.”