“You’re moving?” Will asked. Bizarrely, he found himself wondering if this was a plot point that was going to happen regardless, or if he’d somehow triggered it by “dating” Emmy instead of Bright. Was it the kiss that had finally rewired his mother’s brain enough to have her remember Emmy’s name? He didn’t like thinking that. He didn’t like thinking of his mother as a robot.
“It’s time,” Bill said gruffly. “We love that old farm, but we’re getting on in years, and it’s a lot of land for two old folks like us.”
“We’re looking at some smaller houses… in Florida,” Joanna said quietly.
“You’re moving to Florida,” Will said slowly.
“Preferably before winter,” Bill confirmed.
Will didn’t know what to say. It was hard to pin down what he felt about this revelation. A part of him felt terrified and guilty because he wasn’t particularly sad or hurt. Shouldn’t he feel sad and hurt? His parents were moving several states away.
“I’d love to take a look at your yard,” Emmy said when he remained silent for a beat too long. “Do you have a budget in mind?”
“I hadn’t thought of it,” Joanna admitted. “Maybe you and I can discuss it. How does tomorrow morning sound? Is that too soon?”
“No, that’s fine.” Emmy’s eyes tracked Will’s movements as he topped off his wine and took a healthy swallow from his glass. “Will can drop me off. I don’t have a car yet. Do you have any pictures of the house so I can start to form some ideas?”
Will took another drink of wine and let her carry the conversation until dinner was officially over. They ate the dessert his mother had brought—triple berry cobbler—with decaf coffee in the living room. His mother commented on the lovely scent of the candle Emmy had bought. Neither Emmy nor Will mentioned that Bright had sold it to them. They’d clearly both reached the conclusion that it would be best not to bring her up in case it confused Will’s parents all over again.
“Well, it’s getting late. We should be getting on,” Bill said, pushing himself to his feet. “It was good seeing you, son. Thanks for having us.”
Will accepted a hug from his mother. She kissed him on the cheek and smiled up at him. “We’ll visit whenever we can,” she promised. Then she looked at Emmy. “Tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, I’ll come by early if that’s okay. I’m looking forward to it. For now, I’m just going to get the dishes started.”
Will almost told her not to leave him alone with his parents, but that was ridiculous. No matter the circumstances, theywere the people who had raised him. He didn’t resent them for who they were; it was the situation that was making him bitter.
Bill reached out to shake his hand. “Great dinner, son.”
“Yeah, thanks for coming.” Will dropped his father’s hand and looked at his parents. He found he had to swallow against an unexpected ball of emotion that had lodged in his throat. “You guys know I love you, right?”
His dad looked at him with a kind of baffled amusement. His mother looked near tears. Shaking her head, Joanna stepped forward and hugged Will again.
“Of course we know that,” she said. “We love you, too.”
Will allowed himself to hang on for a moment longer than he usually would have. He very well might see his parents again, but something in his gut made him believe that this was one of life’s big goodbyes. He didn’t want to take it lightly.
They left, and he watched their car pull out the driveway before closing the door. When Emmy came back in a minute later, he was still standing there, looking a little lost.
“You okay?”
He shook off the mood as best as he could. “Yeah. We survived. That got intense there for a minute.”
Emmy blew out a long breath. “Seriously. I wasn’t expecting that. I think they just…” she trailed off.
“Malfunctioned?” Will offered.
“I didn’t want to say it,” she whispered guiltily. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head. “It is what it is. I’ll process later.” His thoughts were on the second bottle of wine they’d opened during dinner but hadn’t finished. Digging deep, he workedup a smile for Emmy. “My mom’s going to hire you. You’re going to fix up the farm.”
“Don’t say ‘I told you so.’ I didn’t say anything about your parents demanding we kiss.”
“Yeah, but you were thinking it.”
“True. I guess you’re permitted to think it, then.”
But he wasn’t thinking smug thoughts at all. He was thinking about that kiss, and the other before it, about how he wanted to do it again. Maybe there was something of his thoughts on his face, because color rose in Emmy’s cheeks.
