Cecily noshed on fudge she’d pretended to buy for a coworker, eyes fixed on the heavens. “You’re thriving here,” she said. “Doing all the things you said you’d do. I didn’t understand why you needed to leave Willow Bend, but I’m glad you did. It’s like you’ve come alive again. And it’s amazing.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, side-eyeing her as I reached into her bag for a bit of fudge.
“You,” she said, as if that explained everything. “You’re a go-getter. A doer. A busy person who makes the rest of us look like slackers. I don’t think you’ve ever set a goal you didn’t meet. Or surpass!” She sighed, obviously deeply content. “You said you needed to come here to change your path, and look.” She stretched one arm out like a game show host. “You did it. I’m always so cautious. You give me hope by making things look easy. Like anything is possible.”
I snorted. “Well, you’re drunk, because nothing is easy for me. Ever. Except maybe our friendship.” I rested my head on her shoulder. “As for the rest of it, I just want to make people happy. Accomplishing things does that. So, I keep going.”
Cecily pulled back an inch, turned my way, and frowned. “You do all the things you do to make other people happy,” she said, paraphrasing my statement.
I raised my brows. “Yeah.” Duh. I wouldn’t run myself ragged just for me.
Her frown deepened. “You don’t have to earn people’s love. Tell me that’s not what you think.”
“Of course not.” I huffed a small laugh. That wasn’t what I’d said. Or meant.
Was it?
I inhaled a deep, shuddering breath, unsure.
“Emma.” Cecily’s tone sobered. “People love you because you’re you. You’ve got this great big heart, and you share it with everyone you meet. Your love of books, music, laughter, and terrible jokes is contagious and inspiring. You give great hugs, and you always know what to say to lighten someone else’s load. You’re a wonderful and kind human who makes people feel seen and appreciated, even if all they did was pass you on the street. And you’d still be all those things, even if you never completed another task, or checked another thing off a list.”
My mouth opened, and the pressure in my chest increased. I wanted to believe her, but I wasn’t sure I did. And I knew that was a problem.
Cecily squeezed my hand. “I know we never talk about this, because it was a dark time for your family, but it’s been on my mind since you left town. So far, this conversation is supporting a theory.”
I dared a glance at her, terrified by what she might say next and still recovering from what she’d said last.
“Is it possible your ten-year-old heart and mind misinterpreted the praise you received for all your efforts while your mom was sick? Maybeyou got it twisted, way back then, and started thinking you needed to trade works for love.”
I blinked. “No. I don’t think that’s it.” But again, I wasn’t so sure.
Had I equated service with worthiness and created my own misery in the process?
I sucked in an audible breath as so many things began to grow clearer. For the first time, I could imagine what my choices might look like from my parents’ perspective. They’d seen me hustling for so long, it probably seemed as if I wanted to stay busy. But I didn’t put all this pressure on myself because it brought me joy. I was trying to make their lives easier, the way I had when Annie and I were small. When Mom was sick and Dad was spread too thin.
At ten, I’d been too young to verbalize the pressure I’d felt or to ask for the hugs and attention I needed. So I’d clung to what I was given. And praise soon took the place of affection. “Wow,” I whispered. “It’s so fucked up.”
Cecily wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against her side. She rested her head to mine as we watched twilight swallow the sun. “You are worthy, Emma Rini. You are loved. And you are worthy of love. Just. As. You. Are. Somewhere along the line, I think your family started to believe being busy made you happy, so they let you do more and more until you’d traded your life for their happiness. I’m sure it hasn’t occurred to them that you think you have to do all this to maintain their love.” Her arm tightened on my shoulder. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner. Now that I know, I’m going to be more conscientious of what I ask of you. And I’m going to insist you take breaks when you can. I think you should do the same for yourself.”
I wiped a budding tear from the corner of my eye. Maybe living like Emily wasn’t my only reason for wanting to leave Willow Bend, I realized. Maybe part of me hoped my family would miss me. Thethought was so unexpected I didn’t know what to do with it. “I’ll try.”
Something told me that attempting to slow down in Willow Bend would be much more difficult than anything I’d hoped to accomplish in Amherst, and that was saying a lot.
“That’s all anyone can do,” she said. “Now, not to pile on the big stuff, but I think we need to talk about that handyman.”
I let my eyelids close for one beat, then reopened them and straightened. “I’ve got bigger things to think about now. I’d rather not talk about Davis.”
She released me to fish another bit of fudge from her bag. “Okay, but remember how much I love you, and be gentle with my best friend while you work on her. She’s incredibly important to me.”
My phone rang, and Annie’s name centered the screen.
Cecily squeezed my hand, then rose. “I’m going to try to get a good photo of the shops with their little twinkle lights,” she said, stepping away to allow me some privacy.
I took a deep breath and answered. “Hi, Annie.”
“Hey.” Her tone sounded cautious, but light.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
