Unexpectedly Hers(42)
Wyatt nodded in approval. “That’s pretty cool that you worked in the ammunition plant. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like during that war, especially with your husband off in battle.”
Mrs. Pellman rested her hand on Wyatt’s arm. “A scary time, but also a time of bravery and pride. A lot like your snowboarding, I guess.” Then she winked at Wyatt.
“You’re a charmer. I can see why Bernie was happily married for so long.” Wyatt patted her hand and stood to give the floor to another resident.
Within thirty minutes, he’d found a way to engage everyone in the room. Some shouted out a quick bit of humor, others like Mrs. Pellman, took their time to tell a story. Emma had believed she’d known these men and women rather well. She’d spent hours playing games with them, remembering birthdays, reading aloud. Yet she’d never seen them all come alive together in this way, reminiscing and revealing the best parts of themselves. It heartened her in the same way seeing a crocus popping through the dirt after a long winter always did.
She noticed, too, that while the residents reminisced, Ryder had meandered over to Mr. Hartley, a quiet man with a prosthetic hand. Those two men now conversed in private at a small table, somewhat oblivious to their surroundings.
Once again, Ryder had taken himself out of his brother’s world and attempted to create something of his own. Emma wished Wyatt could recognize what seemed so obvious to her, then reminded herself to stay out of it.
“We forgot one person.” Wyatt’s voice had risen above the din of casual conversation. His gaze swung around and landed squarely on Emma. “What do you say, Emma? Care to share your story with the world?”
Instinctively her hand flew up to shield her face from the camera. “Oh, no. I’ve got no story to tell. Everyone here knows me. I’m the least interesting person in the room.” And the biggest liar.
“Is that so?” Wyatt turned a skeptical face toward the crowd. “If Emma won’t speak for herself, maybe you all can share some information about her with me. I’ve always believed that the quietest people keep the biggest secrets. So tell me, what’s Emma hiding?”
“Emma Duffy has nothing to hide! She’s a lovely young lady,” Mr. Tomlin said. “And she bakes like an angel.”
“High praise.” Wyatt stared at Emma, brow cocked playfully.
Emma curtsied, hoping her knees didn’t buckle. Good grief, it’s like Wyatt had some kind of ESP or something. Biggest secrets indeed.
And now she’d made Mr. Tomlin complicit in her deceit simply by not correcting his assumptions. Nothing to hide? Oh, wouldn’t they all be shocked speechless if they got their hands on a copy of Steep and Deep? No doubt they’d blame “that damn William Duffy.”
“Emma’s good people.” Mrs. Ritter glanced at Mrs. Pellman.
“Very thoughtful, too,” Mrs. Pellman clucked, then she peered at Wyatt. Emma could tell by the sudden, dreamy look in her old eyes that talking about her Bernie had revived her romantic spirit. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
Oh, no! No, no, no. Emma could not be subjected to matchmaking by her octogenarian friends. My word, what a nightmare. Of course, on the heels of that thought came another involuntary one: This could make a funny scene in my current story. She stifled a snort of laughter and wondered, suddenly and quite stupidly, if she’d missed Wyatt’s answer.
“No time for a girlfriend.” Wyatt didn’t look anywhere near Emma’s vicinity, she noticed. His statement should both please and relieve her, but it didn’t.
Andy hadn’t been completely wrong the other day. Emma did want what Avery and Kelsey had with their soon-to-be husbands. Unlike them, however, she’d never been sought after.
She’d been the sidekick. The girl guys would talk to about the other girls they liked. The one who’d lend her class notes to her crush to borrow or let him cheat off her on a test. Who’d bake him cookies when he was sick—cookies he’d then share with the girl he liked.
And yet, despite constant romantic frustration as a young teen, she’d remained steadfast in her belief that, one day, her genuine kindness and devotion would be valued. She’d been certain Mr. Right would see past her more ordinary face and body, and then he’d fall to his knees and profess his undying love.
Ha! She laughed at herself, because that romantic notion of youth had been tarnished slowly, because her life had been commandeered by her mom and her responsibilities at the inn. She’d never broken rules, sneaked out, or done any of the other rebellious things her friends had. Partly because it wasn’t in her nature, and partly because she never wanted to risk sending her mother back over the edge.