Em (The Summer My Life Began Book 1) Page 17

  “Cade!”

  Taking my hand, he leads me from the shadows back down Key Street. “Then there’s that sense of adventure you have hidden deep inside. The beauty you have outside. The love you have for your family. But most importantly, your bravery.”

  “Bravery?”

  “Em, you learned some pretty surprising news this summer and not a lot of people would’ve have handled it as bravely as you did.”

  I think about that for a few seconds. Yes, it takes bravery and guts to tackle my family secret. To step forward and be the person I want to be. Hearing Cade say it brings me a true sense of satisfaction.

  I’m proud of myself.

  Things make so much more sense now. How I grew up, feeling stifled. Coming here and sensing an immediate connection. This place should have been my home all along. This life is what I’ve been missing and I didn’t even know it.

  Cade squeezes my hand. “Now your turn. You going to tell me why you missed me?”

  “Why do boys always have to know more?” I playfully groan, and he laughs.

  “Your sense of humor, for one. The deepness in your heart that you don’t let many people see. The love you have for this island and the people who live here. Your dedication to The Pepper House. The way you challenge me to step out of the norm. Your sense of freedom and independence.” I touch the ring he always wears around his neck. “The fact that you always wear this.”

  He gives me a sexy grin. “That’s quite a list. I think you did better than me.”

  “That’s okay,” I tease. “You can expand on yours anytime.”

  Loving someone so much that you’re lost in him.

  I couldn’t imagine that feeling back at the beginning of the summer. Now, though, I do.

  Epilogue

  More than a month has gone by since that night at the art show. The calendar flips from August to September. Every week I write a real letter, not email, and I leave a voice mail on both Mom and Dad’s cell.

  Every week I receive the same response—nothing.

  Gwenny and I talk every few days, thankfully, but the lack of communication from my parents disappoints me.

  I wait to hear back from the culinary schools, too.

  In the meantime, Cade and I are doing great. Wonderful, in fact. We’ve reached a level of understanding and respect like we’ve known each other years instead of months.

  I’ve fallen into a routine around The Pepper House as well—up early to help Domino cook, then assist Beth in the afternoons, then again help with dinner.

  Frederick starts back to school, his junior year.

  Cade zips in and out doing his usual thing. At night he and I hang out at his place or somewhere else around the island. My life now is so different from before, more different than I ever imagined it would be.

  Finally, I’m able to breathe and be myself.

  These are the things that go through my mind as I stand in the kitchen with Domino, kneading dough for papaya turnovers. As I’ve admitted before, dessert cooking is not my forte.

  “Em?”

  I glance over at Domino. “What’s up?”

  He nods at Tilly, who stands on the other side of the kitchen island sipping cranberry juice. “We’ve been hiding something from you.”

  My stomach drops. Not another secret.

  “You know Harry?” Tilly asks.

  “The guy from the yacht? Yes, of course.” He still puzzles me. I’ve yet to figure out where I know him from. I could have looked him up on the internet, but honestly, I’ve so been busy I haven’t given Harold’s ID much thought.

  “Harold Lemley,” Domino says. “Put on your culinary hat, Em. The Harold Lemley?”

  I run that name around in my head and it hits me hard. “Oh my God!”

  Domino grins.

  I look between them. “How long have you two known?”

  Domino cringes. “Since about the second week he was here.”

  “I can’t believe it!” My fingers dig into the dough. “I’ve been cooking for the Harold Lemley? Food critic Harold Lemley?”

  Everything I’ve made for him flashes through my head, and I immediately groan. “I put Bisquick in yesterday’s sausage balls. I would never have used Bisquick if I’d known Harold Lemley was eating them!”

  Tilly laughs. “Calm down. There’s more.”

  “What do you mean there’s more?”

  “He wants to have a meeting with you,” Domino says.

  “What? Why?”

  “He was impressed with you from day one,” Tilly tells me. “When he found out about your cooking aspirations and applications to culinary schools, he offered to write you a personal recommendation.”

  My jaw drops. “He did not.”

  Domino chuckles. “He did, and there’s still more.”

  “I don’t know if I can take any more.”

  Tilly puts her glass down. “He’s sponsoring a scholarship to one well-deserving student, and he wants you to apply for it. It’ll pay for tuition, room, and board at a school of your choice.”

  I scream. “Are you for real?”

  She laughs. “We’ve scheduled a meeting for this afternoon for you two to discuss it all.”

  “Oh.” I turn in a circle. “I need to make a list. I need to do some research. What will I say to him? What should I wear?”

  Domino shoos me away. “Go! Get ready!”

  ~*~

  That afternoon I drive the van to the marina, where Harold Lemley’s yacht floats in its slip. Wearing a simple coral skirt and a white blouse, I stroll down the dock toward the end. As I near Sid’s spot, I see him sitting beneath the canopy with Cade beside him.

  I wave hello, masking my surprise at seeing Cade there. I had no clue he and Sid were talking.

  Cade jumps off the boat to trot across the dock toward me. “You look nice.” He kisses my cheek.

  I turn my back so Sid can’t see me ask, “What are you doing? Is everything okay? I didn’t know you two were talking?”

  “Yeah, only a couple days now.” He takes my hand. “You inspired me, Em, dealing with your family, still trying with them even though they’re giving you the cold shoulder. So I took the initiative to talk to Sid. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.”

  I squeeze his fingers. “I’m glad.”

  We stand holding hands, looking at each other. I can’t be more proud of Cade than I am at this moment.

  Stepping back, he gives me a once over. “Why are you so dressed up?”

  The exciting details around Harold Lemley bubble out of me.

  “Em!” Cade grabs me up and swings me around. “That’s great!”

  “I know!” I straighten my outfit and give him a quick kiss. “I’ve got to get to my meeting.”

  “Yeah-yeah-yeah.” He gives me a gentle push. “Go!”

  Fresh nerves dance through my belly as I approach the yacht.

  Mr. Lemley waves me aboard. “Em, it’s so nice to see you. Come, sit down.”

  We sit outside on the upper deck of his yacht, and it only takes a few seconds for my nerves to settle. We talk about cooking, of course, and he describes what culinary school entails, to include daily schedules and studies and especially dedication and work ethic.

  He advises me to explore as much as possible. We discuss techniques, theories, and cuisine. He encourages me to experiment as much as Domino will allow.

  Harold and I speak about opportunities afterward, once I’ve earned my degree, but I tell him what I put on all of my applications—I want to come back here and open my own restaurant.

  Toward the end of our hour-long conversation, he assures me he’ll write a recommendation letter to each of the five schools I applied to. He also offers me the scholarship he sponsors.

  Of course, I happily accept.

  Now I just have to hear back from the culinary institutions.

  ~*~

  “Guess what?!” I tell Gwenny two weeks later.

  “What?”

&nbs
p; “I got into all five schools!”

  She screams. “Oh, Em, I’m so proud of you!”

  “Thanks!”

  “So which one are you going to chose?”

  “Italy.”

  Gwenny sighs. “Oh, that sounds so romantic. Can I come to visit you and maybe meet a hot Italian guy?”

  I laugh. “Definitely.”

  “What about Cade?”

  “The thought of leaving him is killing me. But he’s been great about everything. I’ll come back here during the holidays. He’s actually going to be doing some gallery shows, so he’ll be in Italy two times that he knows of already. I can’t wait to be there with him!”

  “I want your life.”

  I smile. My life. Yes, it finally begins.

  “Yesterday Mom asked if your letter had arrived yet,” Gwenny says.

  My heart skips a happy beat. “Really?”

  “I think that’s progress. She used to pretend indifference. She’s softening.”

  “I hope so,” I sigh.

  “Listen, I’ve got to go. Rose and I are catching a movie.”

  “I thought you were grounded again.”

  “I was. But today is my first day of freedom and I’m celebrating with Rose.”

  “Behave.” My sister has been in a perpetual state of grounding pretty much since I left.

  Gwenny hoots. “Say hi to everybody.”

  “Will do.” I close out of the call and get my paper and pen. I can’t wait to write home. I have so much to share—and now that I know Mom is looking for the letter, it encourages me even more.

  ~*~

  November rolls around. I continue my weekly letters and calls home. The last week of the month I finally receive a short handwritten response from Mom:

  Elizabeth Margaret,

  We would like to accept your invitation to spend Christmas with you at The Pepper House. Thank you. You can expect Gwyneth, your father, Grandmother, and me.

  We will see you on December 23rd.

  With love,

  Mom

  I grip that note in my hand as I stand outside of the airport waiting for them to exit baggage claim. Frederick stands alongside of me with Tilly and Cade. In my head, I played this scene out lots of times and hope for the absolute best.

  “This is all because of you,” Tilly whispers.

  Smiling at that, I look over at Cade and fresh nerves rustle through my stomach. He gives me a cute grin that calms me.

  Gwenny comes out of baggage claim first. She takes one look at me and with a squeal, bolts across the pavement. I run toward her and we collide in a fierce hug.

  We laugh, and spin, and dance, and cry. I missed her so much!

  Still, with our arms around each other, we turn to see Mom, Dad, and Grandmother standing in a line staring at Tilly and Frederick, who stand side-by-side staring right back at them—like an invisible barrier prohibits either side from moving.

  So I step forward first.

  I go to my mom, not even bothering to hide the tears in my eyes, and give her a welcoming hug. “I missed you, Mom.”

  She sniffs. “I missed you, too.”

  Dad steps forward and hugs me next. “You look great, sweetheart.”

  I kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Grandmother hovers a little behind, still staring across the space at Tilly.

  Everyone quietly watches as Tilly slowly closes the gap between them and comes to stand right in front of my grandmother.

  “Mother,” she says simply.

  Grandmother’s bottom lip trembles and it makes fresh tears fall from my eyes. I’ve never seen my grandmother emotional.

  Tilly gives Grandmother a tentative hug that slowly grows into something more familiar and warm.

  I introduce Frederick to my New England family and Gwenny to my island family.

  Tilly takes my mom’s hand. “Thank you for raising such a fabulous daughter, Kat.”

  Mom nods, trying to hold back tears, and gives her younger sister a hug.

  I stand watching everyone make the first steps to healing. I did this. Me. I brought all these wonderful people back together.

  Cade carefully approaches, and I introduce him around as well.

  While my family stands talking, Cade leans over and whispers into my ear, “I love you, Elizabeth Margaret. You’re amazing.”

  His words sink into my soul.

  I think of the girl I was when I first arrived—a little scared and at the same time excited.

  I think of the woman I’ve become—free, happy and completely comfortable with myself.

  I think of my future as a chef and how all my dreams are coming true.

  I think of my family, of Cade, and falling in love.

  He’s right.

  I am amazing.

  . . .

  Turn the page to read for a sneak at Gwenny and Levi’s story!

  (Two Years Later)

  Chapter 1

  LEVI

  Every little thing gonna be alright.

  I will survive. Oh, as long as I know how to love I know I will stay alive.

  I won't be afraid just as long as you stand, stand by me.

  With a groan, I toss my pen down. Bob Marley, Gloria Gaynor, Ben E. King. Thank you for being stuck in my head.

  What is wrong with me? Every time I sit down to write, I scribble famous lyrics instead. It wouldn’t be so bad if every other member of Bus Stop wasn’t producing new material on a weekly basis.

  Best-selling songs, number one hits and I’m copying dead people. Ugh.

  I run my hand over the five-day growth on my jaw and the bristle sound fills the quiet of Mom’s living room. I came home to East Tennessee looking for inspiration and nothing has hit. Outside the bank of windows, night falls over the valley. Distant homes tucked into the mountains provide a spattering of yellow light. Above, the stars sparkle clear and crisp.

  Yeah, this should give inspiration, but it doesn’t.

  My bare feet hit the hardwood floor and I make my way into the kitchen where I grab the Tang from the cabinet. Tang cures everything.

  While I stir it into a glass of water, I think of the years I’ve been the keyboard player for Bus Stop. We’ve played at some of the biggest arenas in the world. At twenty I make a healthy six figures every single month. Our fans love our pop-rock/country rock/alternative sound.

  Working off the latest wave of success, the four of us who make up Bus Stop sketched out a timeline of our next album. Yet I’m the only one who isn’t producing. No matter how hard I try, nothing works.

  With a sigh, I sip my Tang and walk back into the living room. My gaze traces across the dark wood floor, the cream leather couches, the dark wood ceiling beams, the floor to ceiling bookcase, the grand windows that look out over the Tennessee Valley. I happily and proudly paid for all of this for my mom. Just like I bought my grandfather his place. My older sister and her husband their place. My younger sister her place that she’ll get when she turns eighteen. I’ve put money aside for everyone, including my nieces and cousins. I’ve donated to charity.

  Of course, there’s Mary.

  But I can’t keep this up if I don’t produce.

  I’ve been here five days, and with Mom and my younger sister gone to visit extended family, I’m all alone. Given I’m constantly surrounded by people—agents, publicists, fans, organizers, reporters—I thought alone would be good. I’d be in my own head.

  Boy, did I get that wrong.

  Maybe I should head into town and visit my sister and nieces. Except for every time I do my nieces post every frigging second of my visit on social media.

  My phone rings and I nearly race across into the kitchen to answer. Thank God, a distraction. A quick check shows it’s my longtime friend, Cade.

  “Cade,” I answer. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing much. I was surfing Parquito Bay today and thought of you.”

  Smiling, I stroll back into the living room and my eyes find the w
all of picture frames. Up and to the right hangs the one of me and Cade as little boys, both with wet heads and tanned bodies with our skinny arms looped around each other as we grin for the camera. We spent nearly every day that summer at Parquito Bay.

  “Good memories,” I say.

  “The best. Where are you?”

  “Mom’s place in Tennessee, trying to write and getting nowhere.”

  “How much time you got? Why don’t you come here? Maybe a change of scenery will help.”

  “Nah, I just need to work through it.” Good in theory, but it’s going on months now and nothing.

  “Okay, well if you change your mind. It’s been years since you’ve been here. The last time you came you wrote Depth Fellow which if I remember correctly hit number one. So, just saying. Inspiration may hit again.”

  I’d love to visit Cade and Anna Island. What I don’t love is the thought of running into my father. “I really do need to work and not vacation.”

  “You do realize you can work from anywhere, yes?”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll think about it.” I glance again at the picture of us, Cade with his auburn hair and me with my light brown. Not long after that picture was taken, his mom drowned in a sailing accident.

  Cade’s parents and my dad grew up on Anna Island together and that’s how we met. But where Cade’s parents stayed, my dad moved here on a full-ride athletic scholarship. He met and married my mom. Three kids later, a not-so-successful football career and Dad moved back to Anna Island where he’s been for years now.

  I wish they’d just a get a divorce already.

  Taking my glass of Tang, I settle into the leather loveseat. “Hey, how are things with your art and with Em?”

  “Good, she’s finishing up her semester in Italy. I was just there on tour with my pieces. She’s coming home for the summer. Plans on helping Domino at The Pepper House.” Cade clears his throat. “I proposed.”

  “As in marriage?” Holy crap. “You’re only twenty-one.”

  “And she’s twenty. We’ve been dating two years now.”