Shucking off my own boots and jeans in a pile at our feet, I slid back in between us. With no barriers, I made love to Emerson, and decided it didn’t matter where I lived or what I did.
I never had to wander anymore—except home to her.
Emerson
Three years later
It was Friday, the last one in May, and the rain had finally stopped long enough for us to bolt from the parking lot into the assembly hall for Price’s graduation. The ceremony was a formality at this point, but I’d told him he had to go. I needed a picture of him in his cap and gown (duh), despite his current success.
His dad sent congratulations via text, and of course, I had to make Price text backthanksin return. Their relationship remained strained, but I hoped it would improve. I think Price secretly wanted it to as well, but pride kept him from admitting it. That, and respect for his mom held him back. He didn’t want to betray her, even though she’d said he wasn’t doing that a million and one times.
They’d never be super close. But his father truly had no one, and I believed somewhere deep down, Price cared for him. Together, they could support each other in some capacity. I had a feeling it would happen sooner rather than later ... after I spoke with Price this evening.
As for now, his mom and stepdad, along with my dad, weren’t coming today, but planned their trip to New York City the following day for a celebratory lunch at Emmy B’s. They’d all been a few times already, and had been amazed by the majestic big city and the small slice of rural paradise Price had built there.
Sheila and Bev were coming tomorrow too. That was no surprise anymore. My dad and Sheila had an unnamed thing going on now that she was in remission. Bev and I didn’t get involved in the dynamics of it, other than saying we were sisters now. I’d certainly gone from having just a dad to having a big family ... pretty quickly.
As for Emmy B’s, the restaurant might have taken the West Village by surprise with its rooftop garden and farm-to-table cuisine, but it was no shock to me. Combining his two loves, Price built the place from the ground up. I expected nothing less from him. I always smiled when he talked about his inspiration for it: combining me and farm life.
The seating around the rooftop garden looked out from its heavy foliage onto the concrete streets of New York. With lights strung above and tea lights around the edge of the roof, it was recently voted the most romantic spot in New York. Price was noted as bringing his love of everything small-town Pennsylvania to the big city. Pleasing the palates of the Big Apple was no easy task.
“Look what it says here, Em.”
Price knocked me out of my thoughts as we walked into the assembly hall. Of course, he’d been walking and reading on his phone. After all, he was a New Yorker now, but I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that. I let him think he was still only part hipster.
“Completing the meal at Emmy B’s,”he read out loud,“were the in-house dessert creations of Bev Brantley and Emerson Bender. Bender, the namesake for Emmy B’s—and owner Price Barnes’s better half—has been with the restaurant since its inception. After eating her Caramel-Infused Apple Blondie smothered in homemade caramel drizzle and topped with fresh whipped cream and cherries, I’m in agreement—she is definitely the better half. Bender and Brantley met at the Lucky Artist Bakery, which they now co-own and run with the help of Seany Michaels, known to the New York food scene for his creations at the Coffee Bar.
“Notably, Brantley dances on the side, and she recently starred in an off-Broadway show.
“Now, it’s a well-known fact that Brantley and Bender are opening the Milk and Cookies Bar in the spot two doors down from Emmy B’s. I can’t say I’m not excited ... the Boyfriend Cookie Sundae at Emmy B’s is triple sin in a dish.”
“Okay, stop.” I ran my hand down Price’s arm and snatched his phone. “It’s your day.”
“Did you hear what they said in theTimes?”
“Yes, I saw it this morning.”
I’d gone to culinary school for some baking courses and then decided to just wing it. My dad and Price had both told me not to close any doors, that maybe I’d return to school one day.
But I’m not going to lie. I loved what I did on a daily basis, and I had no desire to go back to school. At the restaurant and the Milk and Cookies Bar was where I was going to spend most of my time. The dessert bar would be my first baby, and I was in full-on nesting mode when it came to the grand opening.
Seany was planning to buy the bakery from us and expand it into more of a funky luncheonette. Also, I’d turned twenty-two a month ago, and I didn’t think going back to school was in me. Price was a special breed who could go as a returning adult. It must be that farm-boy patience. Me, I was too impatient when it came to everything.
Maybe that was something I got from Paula. I’d never know. I did know my dad loved me enough for two parents, even when I’d tried to find my mom. I’d been the one looking, and she’d been hiding. There was nothing else I could do for her or her situation, and I’d finally resigned myself to accepting that it had nothing to do with me. She had been in a bad way, and my heart always dipped when I thought about how troubled she must have been.
“Now, go,” I told Price. “Go line up or sit down or whatever until they call your name.”
I didn’t have time to dwell on things. It was go time for Price. My true love. I might have been young, too young, when we met, but it didn’t matter. When your heart is wandering and looking for love and you find it, you grab it and hold on to it.
After Price became a college graduate at the age of twenty-six, we went to Emmy B’s for a celebratory drink. Of course, while he was there, he checked on every little detail. Thankfully, he didn’t notice the exchange between the bartender, Chuck, and me ... it was nothing illicit, and he’d know soon enough.
Once the restaurant closed for the night, we went home to the place Price found for us after he sold his apartment. Now we lived on the top floor of a loft in the Meatpacking District with a huge rooftop balcony, and plenty of room for Tuck to run around. It was more us, and we loved it there.
The two of us lay in bed, twisted in the sheets, kissing like we did every night, Price running his hand down my back.
“I love you,” he said into my back, his breath tickling the nape of my neck. “Turn around for a sec.”
I rolled around in his arms, and he reached behind him, into the nightstand drawer.
