“Well, obviously. But, you two look a little cozy there. Did you two have a makeout sesh last night? Because the way you looked over at her before you realized I was here…” He slowly shook his head. “Dang, that means I owe Isabella a foot rub. I didn’t think you had it in you, but she said it was inevitable.”
Emma yawned and rubbed her eyes. “John, we did not have a makeout sesh. And that’s not the way you greet the two people who’ve been keeping your kids alive. How’s the baby?”
John stuck his hands in his pockets. “He’s amazing. But he has to maintain weight and body temperature goals and get off oxygen before they’ll let us take him home. Isabella wanted me to check in with you guys and play with the kids for a little bit. Are they still asleep?”
Emma and George exchanged glances. They had no idea.
John waved a dismissive hand at them. “Stay there and snuggle. I’ll go find my kids.”
Emma sat up and stretched, and George did the same.
“Are you done with the blanket?” he asked.
She nodded and pushed it off of her legs. The awkwardness was back, and it wasn’t because of John’s teasing. She looked sad. Maybe he’d hurt her feelings over the matchmaking thing, disappointed that he wasn’t interested in Harriet.
George let out a sigh, reminding himself, again, that no matter how good of friends they were, or how much he wanted more, it didn’t change things. He couldn’t think of anything worse than pining after someone who hoped to set him up with her friends.
There was little time to dwell on it. The kids were so excited to see John that they ran all over the house screaming, which was not Mr. Woodhouse’s favorite way to be woken up. John had them so riled up at breakfast with airplane rides and bear attacks that Johnny dropped his syrupy plate on the floor and Emmy spilled her milk across the table
John was not Mr. Woodhouse’s favorite person on a good day. Not only had he up and married Isabella, causing her to leave home, but he had a way of making everything around him louder and more intense. It made him a great older brother and a fun dad, but George sighed in relief when John left to return to the hospital. Things could go back to being a little more structured.
George took the kids outside, and Emma took on the task of soothing Granddad and gathering Emmy and Johnny’s toys and clothes.
Mom was flying in that afternoon and would take the kids to John and Isabella’s house. Their babysitting gig was almost up. George was relieved, but a little sad, too. After this, how often would he and Emma really see each other? Until he could get his head on straight, he didn’t think it would be wise to keep coming over.
Chapter 18♥Hand in the Cookie Jar
Emma jogged up to Betty’s door with her bags of thrift store clothes, excited with what she’d found.
What she did for a living had eventually come up in their conversations, despite Emma’s reluctance to mention it. The topic of makeovers and fashion often made people feel uncomfortable, or worse, obligated to ask if they needed one. Emma was not in the business of pushing her fashion advice where it wasn’t wanted. Especially now that she was trying to withhold her advice on anything.
Betty, however, thought it was exciting and immediately dragged Emma in to see her tiny closet where she’d organized her clothing by color—from drab on the left to garish on the right. She was on a fixed income with limited space, but she wanted help. Emma asked her to think about it for a few days, but she didn’t forget or change her mind.
So, they struck a deal. Betty paid Emma in cooking lessons and baked goods, and Emma began replacing Betty’s worn out clothing items a few at a time, stopping at thrift stores or consignment shops here and there when she had free time. Free time had become her nemesis. It was when her thoughts shifted to George. Oh, how she missed him.
They still texted, but he didn’t offer to come over, and she didn’t dare ask. They visited John and Isabella at the hospital at opposite times. She watched TV alone. She’d lost him, and it haunted her. It was a pit-in-the-stomach, gnawing regret that nipped at her heels like a badly behaved puppy. So, she stayed busy.
Today, she’d found a sidewalk sale where you could fill a whole bag for five dollars. She’d bought two full bags, washed everything, thrown out anything that still smelled or wrinkled into nothingness, and called Betty with the good news. The woman rarely was not free, poor soul, and they agreed to have lunch together and look through everything.
Betty answered right away when Emma knocked, clapping in excitement at the sight of Emma’s finds.
It was not professional at all, but they dumped both bags out right there on Betty’s couch and exclaimed over their finds without any particular rhyme or reason. Emma sighed, realizing it was because they were friends.
She’d thought Harriet was her friend, but that had been a relationship based too much on a balance of power, and the moment Emma stepped back from it, the bottom dropped out. They were still cordial, and Harriet and Granddad still got along famously, but it wasn’t like before, and as awkward as that made things, it was probably for the best.
“Look at this one!” Betty held up a blouse and let the silky material flutter in her hands. “Should I try it on? I should go show Mother.”
“Go for it.”
The timer for the homemade pizza went off, and Emma turned on the oven light and peeked in. The cheese wasn’t quite melty enough. She’d check it in a few minutes.
An extra bag of pizza dough was in the fridge to take home. Her payment from Betty for today. Hopefully, Granddad would like making pizza, too.
“Emma, would you get the door?” Betty called out.
Emma hadn’t even heard a knock, but she went and checked the peephole. It was George. She touched her throat and turned in a circle, trying to think what to do.
***
