Page 80 of The Emma Special

“How does that⁠—”

“Yes or no,” Allison chucked the pen across the blanket and picked up another from her pile.

“Yes!”

Katie leaned forward. “Do you want to kiss him?”

Emma nodded without speaking.

Summer rolled her eyes. “Do you feel safe when you’re with him? Does he honor God with his words and actions? Do you trust him? Does he treat those who work for him with respect? Does he hold the door open for his mother?”

Allison frantically made notes on her chart as the girls spit out more and more yes-or-no questions. Finally Allison held up a finger for silence. She turned the page over and titled the new page, Emma. “James passes. I don’t think he’s our problem here. He’s a godly, trustworthy friend. He’s attractive and generous. Emma’s gotta figure out what she can live with. Can you be married to him forever? What’s gonna make you happy? Not happy… fulfilled.”

Summer flicked a black beetle off the edge of a bucket. “Can you do this without losing yourself? I will sell this property for you. You. Have. Options.”

Emma shook her head. For some reason all she could think of at the moment was that she could make really good coffee. “What can I do for James? Is there any way to level the playing field? I don’t know how to be with someone who’s so much better than me.”

Katie blew a raspberry with her tongue sticking out. “Married to you, he’d be the luckiest man in Primrose Valley. Are you kidding me right now? You are seriously the best roommate—” Katie gasped. “Imagine having money for all the ingredients to cook anything you wanted. Girl, you know how to cook. Make him biscuits and sausage gravy and he ain’t never giving you up.”

Allison groaned with eyes closed. “You do make the best breakfasts. Now I’m hungry again.”

“So, you think the trade-off is worth it for him? I’ll just be his housewife?”

“Just!” Summer exclaimed. “Let’s not ever hear that word again. You’re going to be the most amazing housewife, homemaker, stay-at-home wifey James could ever imagine.”

The girls stared at Summer a moment in silence until Summer sputtered, “I mean, hypothetically. I don’t think you need to marry him though. I still vote that you say no. You have other options. Allison? Katie?”

Allison studied her notebook then nodded. “I vote yes.”

“Same here.” Katie smiled. “Emma? What do you think?”

Emma stared at the flowchart as her breaths began to even out. “Looks like I’m getting married.”

The squeal from Katie ’bout popped everyone’s eardrums. Thankfully it was warning enough before she attacked Emma with a bear hug. “I’m so excited for you! We need to plan a wedding. Like, yesterday.”

“Hold your horses,” Summer said. “She still needs to talk to James. There’s a lot yet to be decided.”

Allison smiled, turning a new page in her legal pad. “James is so put-together. He may already have it all planned out. Competent, able to make decisions. I like that in a man.”

Katie’s arms finally loosened around Emma’s neck so she could breathe again. “I think we should call him now and ask him to come over here.” She clapped her hands with a laugh. “I want to see his face when we tell him.”

Allison didn’t look up, switching to another colored pen, and said, “Emma needs to handle this one on her own. We’ll help make a list of everything you need to talk through with him, but you have to own it. He’s marrying you, not the whole Kiss and Tell club.”

“More’s the pity.” Emma threw a handful of green leaves into the air that fell around them like spring confetti. “We would make the best sister-wives.”

Summer barked an unladylike laugh, covering her mouth a moment too late. “Should I look into growing mandrakes?”

Their laughter came in spurts and snickers as the four talked through everything and then some. The lined white paper and the multi-colored shimmering ink in Allison’s gorgeous handwriting was oddly comforting in its beauty.

A smile bloomed on Emma’s face as the fog lifted. The future didn’t have to look so bleak anymore. “Can I have pink and white roses in my bouquet?”

Chapter 23

James Expedites

James stared into the cup of coffee sitting on his kitchen counter. It looked like The Emma Special, but it wasn’t. It was The Emma Special’s ugly stepsister, Sludge.

He poured the poison down the drain after two sips. “I ran her off, and I’ll have to settle for second-rate caffeine for the rest of my life.” Positioning the mug under his single-serve machine instead felt like giving up. After tasting perfection, it was hard to go back.