*
“Are you going to tell me her name?” Lucy sat opposite Emory on the bench that lined the steam room wall. “I let an entire spin class go by without asking a single question about this mysterious date of yours, just sure you’d think enough of our multi-tiered relationship to tell me yourself, but clearly, I was wrong.”
“I think the world of you, Luce. You’re the peas to my carrots and the apple of my corporate eye. Why would you think otherwise?”
“The peas to your carrots? Did that just come out of your mouth? Someone is in a good mood and it’s definitely not me. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my best friend has completely shut me out.” Lucy sulked dramatically, slinking further into the terrycloth towel wrapped around her. “I’m guessing it’s something I’ve done. I can’t help but wonder if it’s because we were together, and if that’s the case, I think we’re both way past that, don’t you? I mean I have no problem hearing about you with other women. So if you’re worried about jealousy, stop because—”
“All right, all right, you win!” Emory took a swallow from her bottle of water and decided it was best just to lay it out for Lucy. “Yes, I went on a date last night with someone I’ve been getting to know recently. I didn’t tell you right off because somehow things feel different with her than I’m used to and I just wanted to have it to myself for a little while so I can figure it out. Come to an understanding of things on my own, privately. Make sense?”
“Her name, Owen.”
“Sarah.”
Lucy thought on this for a moment, her eyes finally widening in understanding. “Sarah Montgomery, the attorney from Barrett’s birthday party? Aha. Okay. She was definitely flirting with you that night.”
“What? No. Luce, that woman was predatory. Sarah Matamoros from Immaculate Home.”
Lucy stared back at her blankly.
“Sarah,” Emory emphasized. “From Fleur de Lys, remember?”
It seemed to hit her then and the expression on her face was the same as if Emory had told her Eskimos had taken over Texas. “The cleaning woman?”
“Can we not call her that? I told you, her name is Sarah.”
“Sarah, the hot cleaning woman?”
Emory rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that. Her family owns the business. She handles marketing and occasionally picks up a job or two when they’re busy. You would like her.”
“Yeah, I would. I saw her, remember?”
“Knock it off. I’m serious.”
Lucy softened. “You are serious, aren’t you? You really like her.”
Emory nodded solemnly. “I think I do.”
“Aww, Em. I think that’s great news. I do. If I weren’t your smokin’ hot ex-girlfriend in a towel, I would grab you and hug you right now, but you get it. So instead, I have an even better idea, why don’t you tell me about her?”
Emory couldn’t contain the burst of happy energy she got when her thoughts turned to Sarah. “Well, the best part about her is how much fun she has. Seriously, Lucy, she seems to appreciate everything. Things I always take for granted. Plus, she’s caring, thoughtful, and smart, really smart. Her daughter is quirky and funny too.”
“Whoa. Stop there and rewind. She has a child?”
“Grace. She’s eight. I’ve only met her once, but she’s something else.”
“Yikes. But a kid, Em? Come on, that changes things. Are you sure you know what you’re getting into? Somehow, I just can’t see Emory Owen caught up in a world of bedtime stories and sticky fingers. You’re a lot of things, but warm and fuzzy isn’t at the top of that list. No offense.”
The wind fell drastically from her sails. “Geez. I’d like to say none taken, but ouch. Am I that bad?”
Lucy turned on the bench to face her. “You’re not bad. You could never be that. You just don’t share how you’re feeling very often. When we were together, it was very hard to…feel close to you. It was like just when I had the last wall torn down, you’d build another one. Over time, I just had to accept that this was who you were. And I’m not sure that works with a kid.”
Emory let the information sink in, and though it was a horrible thing to hear about herself, she knew that every word was sadly true. “I know it’s late in coming, Luce, and I don’t know if these are even the right words, but I’m sorry.”
“I know. You did the best you could, and you know what? I truly believe that we’re right where we’re supposed to be. And if you’re serious about this girl, Sarah, then it’s what I want for you too.”
“It’s not like that. I just like being around her. Instant family is not what I’m projecting here.” She sighed. “In fact, I should put a stop to things now, but—”
“You’re too far in. You don’t want to be, but you are. Just look at you, all conflicted.”
“I just don’t see where this can go. You said it yourself, Luce, and you were right. I honestly can’t see myself being someone’s mother.”
Lucy scrunched one eye. “The image doesn’t come easily, no, but crazier things have happened. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with testing the waters a bit.”
“Testing the waters.” Emory let the concept marinate. “I guess.”
“Just please go into this with your eyes open.”
“Yes, your wiseness.”
“See? You’re seeing things clearer already.” Lucy then looked around helplessly. “The wise one is melting. Let’s leave. There’s a martini somewhere calling my name and I’m not one to disappoint.”
Chapter Eight
“Hi, Mom,” Grace said. She sat atop the small nurse’s cot, her eyes filled with sorrow.
“Hi, baby, what happened?” Sarah moved into the tiny room, discarding her purse on the floor as she crossed to Grace. She stroked the back of her hair and wrapped her arms around her, needing to feel for herself that she was okay.
When she’d received the call that Grace was in the nurse’s station at camp and she should proceed there right away, she experienced a horrible case of déjà vu. She’d torn out of the office and raced to the campground just as she’d raced to the hospital two months prior. She gripped the steering wheel in utter terror, and even though the nurse had assured her Grace was absolutely fine, there was nothing she could do to quiet her irrational fear. Now that she was here, she glanced expectantly at the faces of the three adults gathered in the room—the nurse; Grace’s camp counselor, Miss Kathy; and the camp director, Mr. Ingersol.
“Grace had a fainting spell today,” the nurse explained calmly. “She lost consciousness for less than a minute, but given her circumstances and condition, we thought it best you came.”
“I’m fine, Mom. I feel normal, I promise. It wasn’t as bad as last time. Can I please go back to camp now?” Grace looked up at her and the desperate hope Sarah saw there tugged at her.
Mr. Ingersol cleared his throat. “Miss Kathy, would you take Grace to get a refill on her juice so we can speak with her mother?”
“Of course I will. Come on, kiddo.”
Grace shot Sarah a worried glance over her shoulder as she walked quietly from the room with Miss Kathy. Sarah nodded in encouragement and smiled back.
Once the door closed, Sarah turned to Mr. Ingersol and the nurse expectantly. “Tell me the truth. Is she okay? What exactly happened?”
“She was playing volleyball with the other kids and she just went over. Kathy checked in with her throughout the day, and Grace said she felt fine. It’s a sand court, so luckily her fall was cushioned. She was out for maybe thirty seconds, and by the time I arrived on the court, she was sitting up and telling everyone not to worry. She’s a brave little girl.”