Page 66 of Falling for Keeps

“I’m not…” She laughs, shaking her head. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Friends are allowed to worry.”

She gets to her feet and pulls out a Tupperware container, stacking cookies in it. “What did you decide to do about Penny’s phone?”

Redirection at its finest: super obvious subject change. I reach for another cookie and pop half of it in my mouth. “I never heard from Jen. She hasn’t replied to any of my texts or called me back, so it must have been a whim and now she’s over it. Penny gets to keep it, but it stays in the living room where we can all be around while she’s using it.”

“That sounds like a good compromise.”

“I hope so.” I stand while she’s snapping a lid on the Tupperware. “Are we going to see you tomorrow at the kickoff breakfast?”

“Probably, yes.” She hands it over, and I take it. “Stick around for cider and story time on Main Street, too. The library will be open, if you guys want to swing by and get Penny a card.”

Emma walks me to the door, but I pause on the steps. “You’re going to be okay today?”

Her eyes wash over my face, a soft furrow forming between her eyebrows. “Yeah. I will. Thanks for checking on me.”

I don’t say the words on the edge of my tongue, the ones that remind her I’m firmly in the friend category. For starters, it’s getting redundant, even in my own head.

But there’s a voice in the back of my mind whispering something dangerous. I don’t want to just be her friend.

Silence stretches without a reply while I turn those words over, peering at them from every angle.

“You okay?” Emma asks. Her voice is sweet, her concern adorable. She’s incredible, and that same niggling thought reminds me she’s nothing like Jen.

I’m still not in the right headspace for a relationship, and I’m not sure I can string my heart out on a line again only for it to become target practice for someone else.

“I’m good. See you tomorrow.” I hurry down the steps and wait for a car to pass before crossing the street to my front door. The entire time I’m running away, though, I’m struck by the same cycling thought.

Emma would never treat my heart like that.

Emma

My affirmations today were oddly on point. Even now, hours after Carson’s surprise visit with the flowers, I can’t help but run them through my head.

I am worthy before I am useful.

Did the makers of Affirmly do a deep dive to learn I’m the oldest daughter trying to keep my family together while providing us adequate space to grieve in a healthy way? I sit across from my dad now, the twins flanking us, and dig into the hot chicken pot pie steaming on my plate.

I am worthy before I am useful.

Well, what if I only feel necessary around here because of my ability to follow Mom’s recipes and my bossiness when coordinating family activities? I don’t necessarily feel like my worth is tied to my ability to bring everyone together, but I don’t know if we’d see each other as often if I didn’t do it. Maybe I might believe the affirmation a little easier if it was proven true.

“This is amazing, Em,” Rosie says, spearing a carrot. “The crust is perfect.”

“Thanks.”

My brother and dad echo her before we all fall silent again. It’s not a somber meal, exactly, but something about seeing Mom’s grave together has made us all retreat inward. I wish she was still here to make dinner herself, that we’d caught the strokes in time and saved her somehow, that my future kids won’t have to grow up never knowing her.

But it’s been ten years, so I’m supposed to be past all this now, right?

I take a big gulp of water. “How are the Fall Festival plans going, Rosie?”

She spears a piece of chicken and eats it, chewing. “It’s gonna be fine. Everything will be fine.”

“I’m sure it’ll be better than fine,” Dad says proudly, but Rosie only looks nervous.

Dominic leans back in his seat. “You know we’re here if you need more help.”