Authors: Georgia Beers
Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #LGBT, #Lesbian, #Family & Relationships, #(v5.0)
“Of course.” Cassie headed for the door when Emerson spoke. “Cassie?”
“Yeah?”
“Just to be clear, I’m not dressing up. I don’t do costumes.”
Cassie’s grinned widened. “I knew I liked you for something other than your good looks.” With a wink, she was gone.
Emerson stood smiling for several moments after Cassie had gone.
Nodding with satisfaction, she looked around at the dozens of muffins she’d made for Mary to freeze. She’d have to teach her how to make them before she went back to L.A., but in the meantime, she’d be able to simply defrost a batch, warm them up, and have them ready to serve to the guests each morning. That should keep some of the stressed sadness at bay for Mary, at least for a little while.
Rolling her head from one side to the other, she realized her shoulders had grown tight from all the hunching over the table and counter. A quick glance at the clock told her she had barely two hours until Cassie was back to get her. Enough time to take the last batch out of the oven, clean up the kitchen, and soak in the tub for a half hour.
But first
…
She sat down at the table, took a muffin from the plate, and sampled it. Cassie was right. It was sinfully good. One thought came to her then, crystal clear in her head.
Mom would be proud.
***
At 7:25, there was a sharp knock on the door of the cottage. When Emerson opened it, two young voices shouted, “Trick or treat!” and held out bags. Gordie sat in between the kids, looking just as expectant, and Emerson couldn’t help but laugh.
“This is all I have to offer,” she said, holding out two blueberry muffins. Only the ninja’s eyes were visible, but he squinted and looked at Elsa standing next to him. She shrugged, and they both turned to look over their shoulders at Cassie.
“You can have those,” she told them.
“You sure she’s not a crazy child killer?” the ninja asked.
Cassie hid her grin. “Pretty sure.”
That was enough for the kids, who each snapped up a muffin and bit into them without any further reservation.
Cassie met Emerson’s eyes over the kids’ heads. “Hi.”
“Hey.” Cassie looked great, and Emerson had to admire her sporty, perfectly color-coordinated attire. The whole athletic thing worked amazingly well on her. She wore jeans, hikers with lively yellow trim, and a bright yellow jacket with black gloves. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail and a matching yellow fleece headband protected her ears from the chilly air. She smelled like vanilla, as always. And as always, Emerson tried to be subtle about taking in her scent. “Nice outfit,” she commented.
“Thanks. I own the store.” Cassie shrugged, then smiled.
“These are good,” Princess Elsa said, her mouth as full of muffin as it could possibly be.
Cassie shook her head. “This is my niece, Izzy.” She tapped the ninja on the head, “And this is my nephew, Zack. Guys, this is my friend, Emerson.”
They each gave half a wave, then turned away from the door. “Come on, Aunt Cassie. We’ve got to go.” Zack was halfway up the walk before he finished what he was saying.
Emerson raised her eyebrows and smiled, grabbed her jacket off the hook by the door. “Come
on
, Aunt Cassie,” she said in a low voice. Cassie bumped her with a shoulder.
The air was beyond crisp, and Emerson could see her breath as they walked, the kids up ahead of them, Gordie on a leash next to Cassie. Dusk had faded into darkness quickly, but the kids each had a small flashlight. She walked next to Cassie with her hands jammed into her pockets for warmth, amazed by the number of costumed children out and about, and by how many people waved or greeted Cassie by name. She knew everybody.
“Busy night,” Emerson commented.
Cassie nodded. “Well, the road around the lake is really the best place for trick-or-treating. Everything else is so spread out, you’d have to drive. This tends to be where the kids congregate.” She looked up at Emerson. “Don’t you remember?”
“I don’t know that I did many Halloweens here. I was doing a ton of traveling for skiing by the time I was twelve. I don’t remember a whole lot before then.”
“That’s too bad,” Cassie said. “It’s a great place to raise kids.”
“Do you want kids?” Emerson asked as they stopped at the next house to wait for the kids. “One day?”
Cassie pressed her lips together, made a thinking face. “Not really. I used to think I did, but as I’ve gotten older, I’m beginning to realize I kind of like my freedom. Besides, I have Gordie.” She ruffled the dog’s head as he sat next to her. “What about you?”
“Nah.” The kids ran to them then to show Cassie their bounty.
“Ooh, mini Snickers,” Cassie said. “Those are my favorites, you know.” She reached into Izzy’s bag, but Izzy closed it on her wrist, squealing, “No!” and Cassie laughed. They moved on to the next house, and the kids ran up the driveway. Cassie looked back at Emerson, waiting, as if they hadn’t been interrupted.
“I’ve never even really thought about it,” Emerson said. “I didn’t have dolls when I was little. I never wanted to play house or mommy or any of that. I wanted to make forts in the woods.” She chuckled.
“Me, too,” Cassie said.
“Plus, I’m not cut out to be a parent. I like quiet. I like my things just so. I think a kid would send me over the edge into insanity.”
Gordie growled low in his throat as a tall kid dressed as a zombie ambled by, dragging one leg, his makeup making him look anemic and bloodthirsty. “It’s okay,” Cassie said under her breath. Then to Emerson, “That’s a
good
costume.”
“I’ll say. Right out of
The Walking Dead
.”
“You watch that?”
“Of course,” Emerson said, and made a face as if that were the single stupidest question in the entire world.
Cassie laughed. “Me, too.” And they spent the next twenty minutes chatting back and forth about the TV show.
“Hey, we’re halfway around already,” Emerson said, surprised.
“It’s a gorgeous night,” Cassie said, throwing her arms out to the sides. “Clear. Warm.” She glanced at Emerson, whose hands were still in her pockets, and whose chin was tucked into the collar of her jacket. “Okay, not freezing.”
Emerson had to admit the cold had become more bearable than earlier, though her knee disagreed. “I might have just gone numb,” she told Cassie jokingly.
“You’ve been in California too long. Lost your tolerance for the cold.”
“Could be. Though I refuse to complain about eighty degrees and sunshine.”
“You really don’t miss the change of seasons?”
Emerson gazed upward, really thinking about the question. Something about Cassie’s tone made her want to be truthful, not make a joke or be sarcastic. Cassie seemed to have that effect on her. “Sometimes. More so when I first moved there.”
“How come you did that? Moved, I mean.” Cassie’s voice was soft, nonthreatening, and again, Emerson felt the need to be honest.
“It’s not something I talk about much,” she began, and shrugged. She stared off down the street.
“Was it because of the accident? With your knee?”
With a subtle nod, Emerson went on. “I had to get out of here. I just felt all these…eyes on me. Wherever I went, I felt judgment. And I was pissed. There was no way I could be that girl that blew it, you know?” Her pale eyebrows met above her nose as she lowered her tone to mimic Fredrik’s. “I was raised to be a champion. And I blew it. Suddenly, I was a loser. And all those people knew it.” She shrugged again and cleared her throat. “I couldn’t take it. I had to get the hell away as fast as I could.”
“You said a bad word,” Izzy scolded, seemingly coming out of nowhere, her costume falling off one shoulder.
“I did,” Emerson said. “I apologize. Don’t say it. Okay?”
“Okay. Aunt Cassie, can you fix my tie?”
“Only if I can have a Snickers.”
With an exaggerated sigh, Izzy said, “Fine.” She fished out the candy, handed it to Cassie, then turned her back to her. Cassie retied the back of the costume, then gave her niece a swat on the behind. “Thanks!” And she was off to catch up with Zack.
“Your mom had a really hard time with you being gone,” Cassie said as she unwrapped the candy, her eyes on Izzy’s retreating form as they strolled forward. “Mary talked with her about it a lot. I eavesdropped.”
“I know. She didn’t understand why I couldn’t stay with her, and I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t leave with me. It’s always been an issue for us and now…” She let the sentence dangle and then was quiet. Cassie bit off half the candy bar and handed the remainder to Emerson, who popped it in her mouth. They walked in silence for a moment before Emerson clapped her gloved hands together once and said, “You know what? This is depressing. Talk about something fun. Tell me something about you. How did you end up with the store? Tell me that.”
Cassie glanced at her face, seemed willing to change the subject for Emerson. “Okay. Well, I don’t know if you remember, but Henry Bickham owned The Sports Outfitter when we were kids.” At Emerson’s nod, she continued. “I always thought it was a cool store, but Mr. Bickham was kind of old and stodgy.”
“I remember that, too,” Emerson said with a chuckle.
“I’d always enjoyed classes like economics and statistics and business in high school. I did well in them.”
Emerson made a face that said she thought exactly the opposite of such classes.
“I went to Syracuse and majored in business, not really sure what I wanted to do exactly, but knowing I loved business. I managed to do okay, which was surprising considering how homesick I got.” Cassie scoffed, perhaps slightly embarrassed.
“Syracuse is a good three and a half hours away. That
is
pretty far.”
“I thought I needed to get away from my family, but I missed Lake Henry more than I can even put into words.” Cassie shrugged. “Call me crazy, but it’s true.”
“I get it.”
“You do? You, who moved three thousand miles away?”
Emerson’s shoulders moved when she chuckled. “I didn’t say I didn’t miss it. I just needed to get the hell out. But no changing the subject. What happened next?”
The kids trotted down the walkway of a house and on ahead as Cassie waved to them. “Well, I graduated and came back here, and honest to god, I was so relieved to be home that I couldn’t imagine leaving again. I think that’s part of why I jumped into a relationship with Mike. Unfortunately, there are not a lot of business opportunities in a small town like this.”
“I can imagine.”
“So Mike and I had just gotten married. I was bartending at The Slope and working part time at The Sports Outfitter, but I was getting restless.” Cassie shook her head. “I have no idea what prompted it, but I started to really pay attention to the store. I watched inventory and sales, what pulled customers in. I studied other stores, what they were doing, measured their success. I made a list of things I’d do differently if the store was mine. I was trying to work up the courage to sit down with Mr. Bickham and go over my ideas with him when word started to go around that he was retiring.”
“What luck.” Emerson bumped her with a shoulder.
“Right?” Cassie laughed. “But don’t think it was easy-peasy. I had to apply for a business loan, and my parents helped me out a bit. Mr. Bickham was old school. And old fashioned. Selling his store to a girl was not high on his list of things to do before retiring. It took me a long time, tons of research, and a boatload of schmoozing before he even considered it.”
“I bet you wore him down,” Emerson said, poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue.
“I totally wore him down.” Cassie laughed. “I had a whole file full of ideas and numbers. I didn’t want to give him my entire plan in case he didn’t like it. I was more interested in showing him that I could keep the place afloat, that he wouldn’t retire and see his life’s work go out of business two months later.”
“That’s pretty impressive. You were what? Twenty-five?”
“Almost.”
“Like I said. Impressive. You should be proud of yourself.”
Cassie smiled warmly. “I am. It isn’t always easy. Retail hours suck. Luckily, there’s an awesome apartment on the third floor that I rent, so I’m never far from work. I can be there any time.”
“But you’re the boss.”
“True. I’ve owned it for three years now, but I still have a hard time making my employees work on days I don’t want to cover myself.”
“That’s what bosses do. That’s the benefit of being the boss.”
Cassie grinned. “I know. This conversation can go around and around.”
They approached the local park that butted up to the beach. Dozens of people milled around. There was a bonfire, hot cider, donuts, and a community center which, tonight, was decked out in paper bats, strings of orange lights, and adults dressed as witches and goblins coaxing the kids into the haunted house. Speakers were set on the deck, and loud creaky door sounds and horrifying screams echoed along the beach.
“Aunt Cassie, can we go in?” Zack asked. The oval around his eyes left visible by his ninja mask stood out starkly in the dark.
Izzy came up behind him. “Please?” she asked, drawing the word out for several seconds.
“All right. Go ahead. But come right back here when you get out. Emerson and I will be standing in this spot. Zack, you are in charge of your sister. Hold on to her. Understood?”
They were running away before she finished her sentence, shouting yesses over their shoulders. Cassie shook her head.
“Want some cider?” Emerson asked.
“Love some.”
Emerson left and was back in a few moments, two steaming paper cups in her hand, and two donuts balanced on top of them.
Cassie grinned as she approached. “Now that takes talent,” she commented, indicating Emerson’s balancing act.
“You’d better believe it. That was
not
easy. Not to mention, the guy at the counter kept looking at me funny.”
Cassie craned her neck to see who the culprit was. “Oh, that’s Jake.” She smiled and waved at him. “He works one of the slopes. He probably recognized you. You’re still a bit of a celebrity around here, you know.”
Emerson grunted and sipped her cider.