Now She's Back

“That wasn’t your fault. I’m not saying you caused a scandal when you left. You needed to escape this place.”

“But are you withholding your approval of the clinic because of what happened between Noah and me?”

“Of course not.” He started the car and turned toward Main Street. “Not anymore, anyway.”

“Why would you? I’m the one who delivered an ultimatum and left town.”

“Because Noah could not put you first. Maybe you were just engaged too long.”

“Considering he was still in school, I’d say not, but I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Then we’ll clear the air about the clinic. We on the council have to live with the covenants the town council of 1962 established. They set architectural standards, and they also left a standard for the kinds of businesses we can accept and still live up to the premise we offer the outside world.”

“Premise? You mean that this is a winter wonderland where nothing more dangerous than a sprained ankle occurs? That’s wrong. We’ve had heart attacks and head injuries. We’ve had mothers who’ve lost their children, and children who’ve lost parents.”

“Don’t try to manipulate me. More citizens are on our side than Noah’s.”

“I’m guessing not one of your bunch has had a truly sick child or run afoul of a chainsaw.”

“Or eaten a meal that resulted in food poisoning. We’ve heard it all, Emma.”

“Have you thought of Megan?”

“If my wife had an emergency due to her pregnancy, I’d buy a helicopter if I had to.”

“Nice, Dad. Will you do that for Guy Coake’s wife? I noticed she’s pregnant.”

She’d almost accidentally rammed the woman with a grocery cart. Josie Coake, wife of the best pancake chef in town, had been sampling a dubious-looking, bagged pickle.

“Let it go,” her father said.

Josie was the type of medical case who’d appeal to Bliss’s voting public. Her husband cooked all hours, and she stayed home to care for their children. They’d sold their second car to free themselves from the payment. They wouldn’t be buying a helicopter.

“People like Josie are lucky Noah stayed back here to practice,” Emma said.

“He always knows what to do for a family in need. You were the only one who couldn’t depend on him.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not staying.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I got angry,” Brett said.

“I know how that works. As you said, let it go.”

* * *

“OWEN, I SHOULDN’T be out here.” Emma looked over the Halloween festival booths half set up on the courthouse lawn. “I haven’t been doing much in town. I bought a stroller. I work at the library and coffee shop.”

“Just occupy yourself. They need help with the judging stand. I won’t be long. Look—over there—Marcy Harrigan with the balloons. I’ll bet she could use some help.”

“But what if she thinks I shoved your father down Nan’s stairs?”

“Tell her to mind her own business. I find that works well.”

“I’d rather walk home and finish cleaning the kitchen cabinets.”

“I’ve seen you work with tools,” Owen said. “We don’t have Noah’s clinic yet, and I don’t trust him to do stitches on you.”

“Funny.” She had no choice. She straightened her shoulders. “I’ll do it.”

“I can introduce you to Marcy.”

“I’ve known her since kindergarten,” Emma said, marching toward one of the old friends who had plenty of reason to think the worst of her. Emma’s mother had preyed on Marcy’s father, too.

She wove between running children and snatched up blowing papers. The papers she slid into the rubbish barrel beside her former friend.

“Emma,” Marcy said, “I’m surprised to see you.”

“Just back to do some repairs on my grandmother’s house.”

“Good. Then you’ll be leaving again?”

Emma felt a pang. Almost automatically, she wanted to mutter her standard, “I didn’t shove him,” but Marcy might have their respective parent’s affair on her mind.

“You can’t help that your face reminds so many people of such bad times,” Marcy said. “You wouldn’t believe the talk when you left town. Not the kind of talk that leads tourists to believe this is a happy place.”

“Yeah.” Emma glanced back at Owen, who offered her a thumbs-up. She didn’t have to live in the past, even if her face took other people back there. “Owen thought I might be able to help you.”

“I do have more important things to do. Let me show you how to use this helium tank.”

“Marcy, why do you care about me showing my face around here?”

“Do you know how many of our fathers your mother slept with? Flirted with? Drank with? How many of our mothers came close to leaving those fathers? The only good thing your family ever did happened the day you shoved Odell Gage down those stairs. The rest of the fathers in town wised up and stopped playing around with Pamela Gage.”

“I didn’t shove— Why does that mean I’m not welcome back?”

“It was a soap opera. You pining after Noah, blaming him because he couldn’t control his father and mother. It was ridiculous.”

“And it made for bad press?”

“The only thing worse than no snow is a story about a domestic dispute. It puts people off.”

“No matter what the real story might be?”

Marcy stretched a balloon over the tank’s nozzle. “No one cares about the truth. We just don’t want that sort of thing to happen again. Your mother works in the basement at the courthouse. Hardly anyone sees her. Your father is blissfully happy. Noah’s even stirring up worthwhile trouble. You come back to town, and how long is it till you start chasing him again? Then his guard goes down, and his father sneaks back. It could be a nightmare. I’ve seen Odell lurking around a couple of times in the past few months. Like you, he must think the coast is clear.”

Emma stared at her. “This is insane.”

“You shouldn’t have asked. It’s what I think. You were as much one of your mother’s victims as I was. Why do you want to come back?”