“Okay, but back to Jack. Emylou,” I start, using her memere’s nickname for her. “If you were so determined to give me that present—which I still question, did you really have to give it to me when you knew Jack was just down the hall? If I had known, I never would have opened it then.”
“Honestly? I thought you knew.” Emy sips her coffee, inhaling the curls of steam wafting off. “Who did you think was in the shower?”
“Gus seemed like the more logical answer.”
“But Gus’s on a trip. You knew that. That’s why he’s taking you out for breakfast tomorrow.”
I sigh. My logic is seriously beginning to fail with this lack of sleep situation.
With a loud, over-dramatic groan, I let my head fall into my arms, braced on the table. Emy’s phone vibrates, reverberating across the wooden tabletop and into my skull.
“Hey, pumpkin. Look at me.”
I pick my head up and reluctantly meet her gaze.
“No more worrying about this, okay? Now, why don’t we have a girl’s day out? Hair, nails, and maybe a new outfit.”
I shake my head. “I have work to do.”
“On your birthday? Absolutely not. I forbid it.”
Consider my suspicions officially raised. I always work on my birthday. It’s a nasty side effect of my birthday being smack dab in the middle of the fair.
Maybe Gus isn’t actually out of town, and Emy just needs to get me out of the house.
“What do you have planned?” I ask. I’m too tired for a surprise party and would rather know the situation so I can be prepared to people.
“Oh me? Nothing.” An indescribable twinkle passes through Emy’s eyes again. “I just think a spa day and shopping sounds like heaven, that’s all.” She shrugs, smugly sipping her coffee.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Aulie Desfleurs
Play:Don’t Worry, Baby by the Beach Boys
Ablanket of stars in the cloudless sky hangs over me as I stand in my backyard. Water laps to shore along the banks of King’s Pond in the wake of a boat on a late-night ride. It’s too quiet, save for the crickets and a loon cooing in the distance. Either I’m early or something went wrong with Emy’s plans.
A light breeze rustles the leaves above my head. Gooseflesh prickles a swath of exposed midriff. I fight against the urge to pull down the hem of my white, long-sleeve crop top Emy convinced me to purchase with a pink tulle skirt. I love it, but I don’t know, maybe I should have gone with the cable knit sweater. That would have been more me.
Not that it seems to matter. No one besides Emy will see tonight, judging by the current solitude in which I’ve found myself.
Emy shooed me back here when we got home to start a fire…but now that it’s been a few minutes, I’m wondering why.
Suddenly, a flash of light has me blinking and adjusting to the shift in luminescence. I direct my stare overhead. Thousands of white lights twinkle in the maple branches overhead, glittering against the black sky. I chew on my lip—if this is a surprise party, they’re certainly playing the long game.
And they’re also really good at being stealthy—which doesn’t sound like my friends.
A drum beats over the speakers Gus set up a few summers ago in the backyard.
Followed by a harmony of male voices.
My heart stops.
“The Beach Boys,” I whisper as “Don’t Worry, Baby” floods the crisp night air.
Leaves rustle as if someone is gathering closer, and I swirl, trying to figure out the direction they’re coming from.
In the light of the crackling bonfire, Jack stands illuminated. His hair is neatly styled into a gelled coif, the style he wears for special galas or fancy dates. A neatly pressed blue button-up stretches across his broad shoulders. He’s rolled his sleeves, and ink dances on his overly thick and corded forearms.
