Shine On (7 page)

“Wow. That is amazing.” Emmie walked over and sat on the bench next to him.

“Do you play?” he asked.

“Oh, no. Always wanted to though.” She stared down at his hands.

“Here you can do this,” he said sincerely. “Just do what I do.”

He sat on one end slowly playing a couple notes at a time. Then she finger-pecked following his lead, mimicking a nursery song. Silas watched as her brow creased in concentration. Her face was beautiful as she studied his pattern and tried her best to match his brothers’ motions.

Trick reached his arm around her to correct the finger placement on one of the keys. He left it longer than was necessary. Silas fought the wave of jealousy.

This shit was ridiculous. He should just leave the room. Go about his business. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Attagirl.” Trick bumped her shoulder.

She threw her arms up in a cheer. Then gave him a sideways hug. “Thanks Trick. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to play on this piano. It’s been here for years and I’ve always been too afraid to ask.”

Trick smiled like a dog with its head out the window. Silas swore his brother’s tongue was getting ready to roll out of his mouth. The worst part was Emmie noticed it because her grin got even bigger. Their flirting was painful to watch—annoyingly painful.

“Give it a rest. Good God,” Silas heard himself say.

They looked at him bewildered like they’d even forgotten he was in the room.

“She barely pecked out four notes of that song. I am not sure that calls for such a celebration,” he sneered.

Trick looked amused and scooted closer to Emmie. Pushing his brother was one of his favorite past times… but Silas wasn’t in the mood tonight.

“Excuse me for boring you with my lack of piano skills,” she spit back at him and moved to get up from the bench, stumbling on her dress as she spun.

He walked up to her and grabbed her elbow to help. Emmie quickly jerked away from his hold. That pissed him off more.

“Your piano playing wasn’t half as annoying as your skill-less flirting with my brother. First me, then him. Vince and Ava are right, you really are a friend of this family,” he said quietly.

Trick opened his mouth to speak but was quieted with a sharp look from Silas.

Emmie’s mouth fell open and froze there, unable to think what to say next.

So she said nothing. Just grabbed her bag and headed out the door.

“I’d say you screwed that up completely,” Trick said walking up behind his brother.

“Shut up, Trick,” Silas answered.

***********

“Why do you have your sewing chair in here Emma?” Mr. Thomas asked, pointing to the small wooden rocker he all but required her to sit in while she worked. He was a weird man.

“Sometimes I can’t hear the bell in the side parlor. So, it made sense to bring it in here, if that is okay with you,” she said.

Lately, Emmie had taken to sewing in the store. It seemed so frequently without a shopkeeper that she was doing both jobs, which was getting to be ridiculous. She’d been toying with the idea of asking for a raise. If she was going to be doing two jobs she may as well be paid for them, right?

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that… Paul.” Why was it so hard to say his real name?

“Yes, dear?” he asked.

Dear—that caught her off guard. She sucked in a breath for courage. “Since I’m spending about half my time watching the shop lately while your brother’s been out, I wondered if I might be able to get a raise.”

“A raise?” Mr. Thomas laughed. “I think we both know I pay you well enough and all you’ve given me so far is a little bit of sewing,” he added in his natural condescending air.

“You know the deadline for tuition is next week. I was just thinking that since I’m doing both jobs that maybe you could advance me…” she continued, protesting.

“We’ve had this discussion before, Emma. I don’t pay you to think.” He arched his brow to see how far she was going to push him. “Whoever filled your pretty head with thoughts of college should be tarred and feathered. Come and sit.” He pointed to the chair.

“My mom, Mr. Thomas. She’s the one who believed in me,” she whispered.

“Well, a pretty girl like you has no reason for books. You should be kept like fine china,” he said, touching her cheek.

I’ll show you fine china.
She turned and moved back to her chair.

“Excuse me sir, can I help you?” Mr. Thomas was clearly irritated that their moment had been interrupted.

Emmie was relieved until she heard the voice of the customer ask for her—his voice.

“Silas?” she asked, startled.

Chapter Eleven

“I
’m sorry. Emma is busy right now. How can I help you?” A fake smile was plastered across Mr. Thomas’s face.

Silas stared at him for a moment. Emmie was sitting three feet to his left. This was ridiculous. He glanced at her. She shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes in reply. He wasn’t sure if the eye roll was for him or the storekeeper.

“Look, Paul is it? I just need to have a quick word with Emmie. And I can see her…” He pointed a finger in her direction. “She’s sitting right there. It will just be a second.” He looked right at Mr. Thomas.

“I said, she’s busy and time is money, son. What can I do for you?” Mr. Thomas said, taking a step closer to Silas.

Silas tried to decide if it was worth the fight.

“No thanks, Paul. I can take care of myself.” He turned and walked to the nearest aisle and started looking through cans.

What in the world is he doing? Emmie wondered. Mr. Thomas had stopped her from having to talk to Silas, so there was at least one redeeming quality to him. She smiled to herself.

She went back to smocking a rose pattern, stealing glances at Silas as he slowly moved around filling his basket with this and that.

“Look,” he said, slamming a can down on the shelf.

Mr. Thomas was more than annoyed.

“I just came in to say,” he paused and swallowed hard, “I’m sorry. I said things I shouldn’t have.” Everyone in the shop was listening. Emmie felt red moving up her neck. Shades of embarrassment were coloring her face.

He looked over at her. “You’re a good girl. I shouldn’t have said otherwise. I acted like some kind of fool.” Silas shrugged his shoulders and shook his head like he didn’t know what to say next.

Emmie dropped the toddler-sized dress she was working on and stepped away from her chair. Words always failed her at times like this. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to think of what to say.

She may have been turning red but it was Mr. Thomas that saw red. “Out,” he screamed, pointing at the door. Spit flew from his lips. Then he composed himself and looked around at the two ladies who has just entered the store. “Customers only, Mr. McDowell.”

Silas walked over and grabbed two more things off the shelf and took them to the counter, letting the basket smack down. “Well, you got yourself a customer right here.” He spread his arms wide over the goods.

Emmie had never seen Mr. Thomas look at someone with such animosity. He quickly started totaling the cost without so much as looking up in his direction. She walked over to the counter next to Mr. Thomas and started putting the items in a bag. He turned around slowly and grabbed her hand.

“Go. Sit. In. Your. Chair.” Then he whispered, “My Emma.”

She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath.

It wasn’t worth it.

She sat down in the chair like a whipped pup.

She glanced up at Silas and mouthed a simple, “Thanks.”

She felt like a child.

People of Mr. Thomas’s generation were so controlling.

Just like Ronnie.

Silas’s eyes flamed with fire. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it, clenching his fist. Mr. Thomas counted out his change. The other customers went back to their shopping.

“Thanks, Paul,” Silas said, grabbing the goods with one arm. “Oh, and you’re wrong you know.”

“Enlighten me, Silas. What am I wrong about?” he whispered leaning across the counter.

“Overheard your conversation earlier. She should go to college… she’s smart enough. It’d get her away from Daddies like you,” he spit out the last part. Emmie stopped sewing; she’d already screwed up the pattern anyway. Her eyes opened wide. She wasn’t sure if she felt happy or offended at his comment.

“Get out,” Mr. Thomas shouted. “You are no longer welcome in this store.”

Silas smiled and touched his hat to say goodbye. “See you tonight, Em,” he shouted as he turned and headed out the door.

“Emma,” Mr. Thomas started, then was distracted by something behind her. She turned to see his brother Will coming through the parlor.

“Where in the hell have you been? We need to talk, now.” Mr. Thomas met his brother in the parlor. “Emma, watch the shop.” She folded the dress and put it in the basket with her sewing things and walked to the counter to help an older lady waiting patiently to buy some sugar and a bolt of white fabric.

Her mind was still reeling from the scene just minutes ago. But the thing that stood out most… Silas believed in her. He believed she should go to school… and he told Mr. Thomas. That was better than any apology he could have given.

***********

Gabe and Trick picked up speed to keep up with Silas as he walked out the store.

“How’d the apology go?” Gabe asked, smashing out his cigarette.

“Fine,” Silas answered, passing the bag of groceries off to his brother.

Gabe nodded, not wanting to push his friend any further. Silas wasn’t really one to be pushed.

“That’s all you’re gonna say?” Trick didn’t mind pushing. “My big brother, that I have
never
in my life heard say he was sorry, is only going to give me a ‘fine’?”

“Shut up, Trick,” Silas smiled and lit his own cigarette. They walked the next block in silence. He knew they wanted to know what had happened in there. Damn, in this tiny hicktown they’d probably know before this weekend anyway.

“I don’t know if the apology took. She heard it though, so Vince and Ava should be satisfied,” Silas added. They’d given him seven kinds of hell, discovering she’d left when they were out of the room last night.

Gabe nodded again, accepting the information without asking for more. That’s why their friendship had worked all these years. Trick looked eager for more. Dumb kid. Silas grinned. He would tell them one more piece but that was it.

“I didn’t make any friends outta her boss Mr. Thomas though. That guy hates me,” he laughed. Just when Trick looked like he might ask why, Silas cut him off. “I gotta go check on Uncle’s firm. I haven’t made an appearance in a couple days. Tell Ava I asked Emmie to come over tonight.”

***********

When Will came out of the office he looked all flustered. He just started opening crates of goods without saying anything as he walked past her.

“Emma, I need to speak to you,” Mr. Thomas barked. She knew she was in trouble. Although she had done nothing wrong, she hated this feeling. Her hands started to tremble, like always. Even when she was younger and Ronnie had some halfhearted excuse to spank her, she had felt half scared to death. This was why she’d spent most of her life trying to be as perfect as possible. If you were what everyone else expected you to be, you didn’t have to feel that awful trembling feeling.

When she walked into the parlor he patted the couch for her to sit down next to him.

“Emmie, we need to talk. I don’t like what happened here today. You cannot bring your personal life here to work.”

She nodded.

“I’m just going to lay it all out here Emma.” He looked at her right in the eyes. “I can understand why you have a soft heart for Walter’s family. I understand why you have taken such a liking to that little…” he paused, thinking of the right word, “the little boy, Max. But I must say something about your choice of acquaintances. You are better than your friends.”

“What friends?” Emmie asked puzzled, “Silas?”

“All of them Emma, dear. The whole clan of them: Ava, her parents, Vince, Silas, the others. You know you are better than them. They are no good.” He touched her knee. “They are one step removed from immigrants. Half of them Italian, the other half Irish heathens.”

“Mr. Thomas,” she started then paused when he arched his brow, “…Paul, they are Americans.” He snorted at this. “And they most certainly are not heathens. They go to church more than I do.” She threw her arms out exacerbated.

“Dear that is not church. They don’t even call it going to church. They are Catholics,” he spit out like he’d just told her they were atheist.

She actually laughed at this. “Oh, Mr. Thomas. I have been with them. I assure you it is in fact a church.”

“This is no laughing matter, Emma. Show me your friends and I’ll show you who you are. You don’t want your reputation tainted with the likes of them. I won’t have it,” he said.

“Well, thank you for the warning,” she huffed. “Anything else? I am very busy.”

“Don’t be upset with me. I have your best interests at heart. Surely you know that,” he pleaded. “Besides, do you know there is a rumor they make all of those trips to Chicago because their business is on the wrong side of the law?”