Page 1 of The Emma Special

Chapter 1

Emma Gets a Ride from a Stranger

“Good-bye for now, dear ones!” Emma tossed a handful of shiny confetti over the heads of the rowdy, chocolate-covered children. “Toodle-oo!”

She twirled out the door in a dramatic spin, catching her woodland fairy skirt on the handle.

Riiiip. The bottom layer of the ruffled skirt floated to the concrete porch. “Peaches and pixies…”

The door opened a crack and the birthday mom passed Emma the rest of her costume.

“Thanks!”

“Emma, you were amazing. Your energy just flows. If I didn’t know your mama, I’d swear a genuine pixie was in my house today.”

“Haha, yeah. It’s all in the details.” Emma gestured to her pointy ear prosthetics and backed away from Mrs. Jones. If she got caught in a drawn-out, Alabama good-bye, she’d surely be late. The girls would already be annoyed with her for keeping them.

Emma wiggled her fingers in the air. “I know you’re fixing to move on to cake and ice cream, so I’ll let you go, Mrs. Jones.”

“See you at church.”

“Of course.” Another step and she’d be off the porch. Holding her smile and figuratively crossing her fingers that Mrs. Jones wouldn’t think her too rude for the hasty exit. “Bye now!”

Emma checked her wrist before remembering that pixies don’t wear watches. In one freckle past a hair she’d be late for sure this time.

Pixies could fly. They didn’t roll up to the birthday parties of little princesses in Ford Tauruses. It wasn’t as if she had one anyway. Those things with wheels cost money, and Emma barely had two pennies to rub together. The coffee shop was only half a mile down the sidewalk. That was nothing compared to the miles she put in every day.

Emma stepped off the porch and looked down at her shiny fairy dress. She’d arrived at the party in street clothes and changed in the guest bedroom. Her clothes were still in that room. “Clever, Emma. Real clever.”

She couldn’t go back for them now. She shuddered thinking of the chaos that would erupt if she walked back into the party.

Oh, well. She could get them back from Mrs. Jones at church on Sunday. The girls were going to have her hide if she didn’t get to the Kiss and Tell meeting in the next half second. Too bad her knee was already screaming from the pirouettes she’d performed for the kiddos. Breaking character because of an old injury was unacceptable.

Hyping herself up with a song stuck in her head from leading kids’ worship, she hoofed toward the center of town. “Theeere was a wise old king, he had a thousand men. He marched them up the hill, and he marched them down again.”

The song distracted her enough that she could lift her knees and pick up the pace. Maybe she’d only be a couple minutes late. She truly had no idea what time it was. “And when you’re up, you’re up. And when you’re down, you’re down…”

The rumble of wheels on pavement behind her was sweeter music to her ears. Emma threw out her thumb, praying the driver was someone she knew.

Primrose Valley was one of those places where everybody probably knew everyone else. Old Mr. Crieghton entered his heavenly home twenty years ago, but his yellow house on the corner next to Abe’s Family Barber was still Old Mr. Crieghton’s house because he’d lived there for eighty years. If anything happened to Emma trying to hitch a ride with a stranger, the villain would be tarred and feathered by the ladies auxiliary before noon tomorrow.

Such was life in Primrose Valley.

The wind whipped the ends of her high ponytail in her face as a shiny black car pulled up beside her. She slowed her walk as the driver eased the window down.

Good gravy on a stick, the man was handsome. No. The English language needed a new word to describe the dark-haired hottie who would hopefully be her knight in shining armor. With his collared button-up and navy blazer, he could have stepped right off of a GQ magazine cover. The pat of her sparkly flats against the sidewalk halted as she gawked at the man.

“Excuse me. Do you need help?”

Come on, Emma. There has never been a better time in history to be charming and clever. Turn on the sparkle!

“Yeah. I need a ride.”

Okay, with the panting and the glistening perspiration on her forehead, that did not come out very charming. The cool spring morning had morphed into a sultry afternoon.

“I mean, hello, hi. Yes. Would you mind just taking me downtown? I’m supposed to meet my friends at Brews and Books.”

Mr. Hottie simply stared, then lifted an eyebrow that had no doubt been perfectly sculpted by the Lord himself. What was his deal? The man acted like he’d never seen a woodland fairy trotting through the outskirts of town before.