Prejudice Meets Pride (25 page)

Emma picked up the two pieces of shimmering purple fabric, lined them up, and pushed a pin through them, careful to keep her finger out of the way this time. She shouldn’t have said anything. She should have kept her insecure thoughts to herself and let Becky go on thinking that everything was hunky dory. Because it was. Totally hunky dory.

Except it wasn’t. A knot formed in her stomach—the same knot that showed up every time her thoughts strayed to Kevin lately.

“Emma…?”

Her gaze snapped to Becky’s. “Things are fine. We’ve both just been busy, that’s all.”

Becky set down the veil that she was working on and leveled a look at Emma. “Too busy for Kevin to be in the ‘mood’ to kiss you?”

Emma shoved another pin in the fabric. “It’s just been weird lately, and I don’t know why. We had a blast building the wall, and things were going so well. Then suddenly, he’s too busy to call or come to dinner or even go trick-or-treating with us.”

“He’s not going trick-or-treating with you?” Becky’s outraged tone only served to validate her concerns.

Emma frowned at the happy purple fabric, not liking it much at the moment. “I’m sure I’m just reading into things and that he really is just busy. But I can’t help but feel like he’s distancing himself from me, and… well, why?”

“I have no idea. Have you tried asking him what’s going on?”

Emma shook her head. “The last thing I want to do is come across as some insecure girlfriend. I’ll wait until after he gets back from his trip, once I’m finished with his office. That way, if there is something going on and he wants to call it quits, at least we won’t have to work together anymore.”

“No, you’ll just have to live next to each other.”

Emma snickered. “Thanks for finding the silver lining.”

Becky returned to the veil she was working on. “I’m sure you’re just reading into things. Kevin’s a smart guy. There’s no way he’d let you slip through his fingers.” But the crease between her brows made a mockery of her words.

Emma suddenly wanted to go home, crawl into bed, pull the covers up high over her head, and have a good, long cry.

The final allegro portion of Vivaldi’s winter movement from
The Four Seasons
resounded in Emma’s ear as she finished painting the base layer of all the sea life. She stood and took a step back, glancing around in satisfaction. The walls were covered in what looked like shadows right now, but as soon as she added color and highlights, everything would come to life. The coral, the varying species of fish, the small reef shark, the ripples at the bottom of the ocean, and the sunken pirate ship.

She could see it all so clearly in her head and wanted to get to work, adding those details now, but according to Vivaldi, it was quitting time. Whenever she was doing a project, Emma often lost track of time. She wouldn’t think to look at a clock, and she still had no idea how to set an alarm on her phone, so she’d arranged for her playlist to end when it was time for her to end. As soon as this concerto finished, Adelynn and Kajsa would be done with school for the day. If Emma started cleaning up now, she’d get home just before the bus arrived.

She pulled the ear buds from her ears and breathed in the aroma of acrylic paint, which was easier to use and a lot cheaper than latex paint. She’d have to apply a good sealant when she was done, but, if all went well and she stayed on track, that could happen Saturday—the day before Kevin returned.

Kevin.

Emma had gone from worrying that something was wrong to knowing it. The night before he’d left, he called to apologize for avoiding her and said he just needed some time to figure things out.

All Emma could think was:
Figure what out?
For the life of her, she couldn’t understand what he was talking about. Everything had been going so well—hadn’t it?

She’d thought so.

Really, though, she should have expected something like this would happen. It had been a recurring theme throughout her life. The principle of gravity. What goes up, must always come down. And now, it looked like she was on her down. She only hoped that the thud wouldn’t leave her with lasting scars.

Chin up, Emma,
she said to herself.
At least you still have your family, the girls, and a home. At least Sunshine’s still puttering away, and at least you still have Sam and Becky. Things aren’t so bad.

Why, then, did her heart feel like it had been stepped on?

She’d always known Kevin was out of her league, but the past few weeks had made her hope that a relationship between them wouldn’t be so unbelievable. In fact, it had felt kind of perfect.

What had gone wrong?

Her cell phone rang, and Emma’s thumb froze over the Accept button when she saw who it was.
Think of the devil.

Should she answer? Did she dare answer? What if he was calling to say he’d figured it out—whatever
it
was—and that it was over? Or, maybe he was calling because… Emma couldn’t think of any other reason his name would be popping up on her display. She frowned. He wouldn’t really break up with her over the phone, would he?

Her fingers shaking, she continued to stare at his name on the screen, then at the Missed Call message that appeared when it stopped ringing. Should she call him back? Should she wait for him to call again?
Would
he call again?

She was such a pansy.

Her phone buzzed with a new text, and she jumped, dropping the phone to the ground.

Get a grip, Emma. Literally.

She grabbed the phone and read the message.

Are you free for dinner on Saturday?

Her mind immediately conjured up one of those scenes from a movie where the girl walks into the restaurant on the arm of a man who she’s sure is about to propose. But then he dumps her, right there, in the middle of the room, and she bursts into tears.

It wasn’t as though Emma had any expectations of a proposal, but she refused to be the girl who got dumped in the middle of a restaurant.

Her fingers tapped out a reply.

So you’re talking to me now?

Almost immediately, her phone started ringing again, and she nearly dropped it. Again. Why was he doing this to her? Couldn’t he see that she didn’t want to talk to him? Once again, she let the phone go to voicemail.

Will you answer your phone?

No. I need some time
…
to think
…
about something that I’m not sure about.

There. Let him stew on that for a while.

Very funny. We need to talk
.

No. YOU need to talk. I need to listen. And I’m really not sure I want to listen right now.

Will you want to by Saturday night?

I didn’t think you were coming home until Sunday.

I changed my flight. So
…
Saturday?

Can’t. Promised the girls a movie night,
Emma lied.

Can I come?

Only if you’re a fan of
Tinkerbell.

My favorite.

Emma bit her bottom lip, wondering how to respond to that. He was supposed to say no.

I guess you can come,
she finally wrote.
But I’m not sure we’ll have enough popcorn for you.

I’ll bring my own.

Emma dropped to the couch, clutching the phone. The conversation had felt so much like the pre-need-to-figure-things-out Kevin that Emma couldn’t help but let her hopes rise a little. What if he had good news? What if he’d changed his flight because he missed her? What if—

No. She wasn’t going to go there. Not until he gave her a reason to.

Why hadn’t she just answered the call and asked point-blank? At least then she’d know for sure. Instead, she’d just ensured herself another three days of limbo. Awesome.

Emma glared down at her phone as though it were to blame. The digital numbers registering the date and time stared back. Wednesday, November 3, 3:30.

Her eyes widened.
Three thirty! Oh no! Kajsa and Adi!
Emma jumped up, grabbed her paint-filled brushes, shoved them into the sack with the clean ones, tightened the lids on the paint cans, and ran out the door.

A yawn stretched Kevin’s mouth as he cranked hard on the wheel, turning his car down his street. Halfway down, he caught a glimpse of Emma before she disappeared around the corner with Kajsa and Adelynn, probably on their way to the park. The afternoon was brisk, yet sunny, and, knowing Emma, she probably wanted to let the girls get as many days outside as they could before the temperatures plummeted and the snow came.

Kevin passed the turn to the park, then pulled to the side of the road, where he could observe without being seen so easily. He watched Emma chase the girls to the swing set and purposely lose the race. She gave Kajsa a big underdog, and Adi a small push, just like Kevin had done before. Although he couldn’t see their faces clearly, he was sure they were laughing and smiling and having a great time.

Kevin wished he could snap a picture of the moment and get Emma to paint it. He would set it on his mantle and look at it every day.

He’d been correct in thinking that getting away would help clear his thoughts. From the moment he’d started pulling away from Emma, his world had gone askew and nothing felt right anymore. His eyes wanted to see her, his arms ached to hold her, his ears craved her laughter, and his lips had never missed anyone more.

Emma was good and kind and wonderful in a way that he never would be. So what if she wasn’t sophisticated and elegant or on her way to being an associate in a stuffy law firm? Kevin didn’t want that. He wanted her. He was in over his head in love with her.

And he’d been a complete fool.

As soon as he could pry his gaze away, he would go home, wash off the smell of airports, order a large pizza, and make some popcorn. Then he’d show up at her house with dinner, watch
Tinkerbell
with them, help Emma put the girls to bed, then hold her close—assuming she’d let him—and tell her exactly how much of a fool he’d been. He could only hope that she’d forgive him.

Drawing in a deep breath, Kevin put his car in gear and rolled forward, ready to set his plans in motion. But as he drove the rest of the way home, he noticed an unfamiliar car hanging out in his driveway. Across the street, a very familiar woman stood, speaking to Becky.

Kevin cursed. What was his mother doing here?

Adorable little giggles sounded as Emma chased the girls around the park in an impromptu game of tag. Kevin was coming home today. Kevin was coming to movie night. Kevin would finally get to see his office—all finished. The thoughts made her smile widen and her energy kick up a notch. Over the past several days, ever since he’d tried to call, he’d sent several more texts—all of which lifted her heart a little more each day.

Missing you.

Thinking about you.

Wishing you could draw me a picture right now because this class is so boring.