“There wasn’t any room in my life for dreams.”
“And now?”
Something in the way Agnes was looking at her made her wonder if she’d guessed.
“I find it safer to focus on reality.” Emily kept her eyes down, closed the box and secured it with tape. “I’m going to find a house that will be a good home for us. Then think about work. There’s a property vacant on Harbor Road, not far from Summer Scoop. I’m thinking of maybe opening a boutique gift shop with a beach theme.” The idea had come to her in the night, and she’d felt a rush of excitement and anticipation. Instead of helping with other people’s businesses, why not start her own? “I want to sell everything from jewelry to shells and maybe small pieces for the home. I have to run some numbers. Ask a few questions. Do you think it’s a crazy idea?”
“I think it’s a good idea.” Agnes pushed another empty box toward her, and together they filled it while Emily waited for another text from Ryan telling them it was safe to go home. It never came. Instead, he came himself, taking the steps to Harbor House two at a time as the last ferry of the day sailed out into the bay on its journey across to the mainland.
Emily watched his approach from the large bay window and wondered if there was ever going to be a time when she could look at him and not want him.
Seeing him made her light-headed, as if she’d walked from darkness into the full glare of sunlight.
Fortunately she had herself under control by the time he walked into the room, and he answered her question before she asked it.
“He’s headed home. He won’t be bothering us again. Good thing he isn’t a travel journalist, or Puffin Island would be in for some seriously negative publicity about the state of our roads and the clueless nature of its inhabitants. He was persistent, I’ll give him that. He must have questioned every damn person on the island, even Hilda.”
“Hilda?” Emily put down the painting she’d been wrapping. “What did poor Hilda say?”
“She pretended to be deaf. She made him shout so loudly he had an audience stretching from the harbor to Puffin Point.”
Agnes laughed and walked to the door. “Talking of Lizzy, I’m going to see how she’s getting on with that doll’s house of Rachel’s.” She walked out of the room, leaving them alone, and Emily wondered how it was possible to feel self-conscious and awkward after everything they’d done together.
“I can’t believe everyone did that for Lizzy.”
“And you.” His voice softened. “They did it for you, too. It can take a long time for mainlanders to be accepted here, but you’ve thrown yourself into island life and you’ve been officially adopted.”
“Oh—” Her eyes filled, and she realized how ridiculous it was to feel like crying over something she should be celebrating.
And she knew her tears had nothing to do with her status as an islander, and everything to do with the way she felt about him.
In the past few weeks, she’d learned so many things and faced things she’d buried for most of her life. Now, instead of protecting herself from emotion, she was flooded by it.
She was starting to wonder if the dream of living here was really going to work.
Now she’d started feeling again, she didn’t want to stop. And she wasn’t sure she could hide it.
“Thank you. I don’t even want to think about how that might have turned out if you hadn’t done what you did. All of you. And please thank the group from the marine center.” She scrambled to her feet. “Lizzy and I will come back tomorrow and help Agnes finish up.”
“Why would you leave?”
“Because in a minute Lizzy will come downstairs and see you, and then she won’t want to let you go.” Avoiding his gaze, she stacked the last of the boxes by the door. “The ones with the black mark can be recycled. The red mark means they can go to the charity store. The green means Agnes is taking it when she moves.”
There was a tense silence.
“What if I don’t want to let her go? What if I don’t want to let you go?”
“I’m taking the box by the door over to Lisa because there are some toys that Summer and Harry might—” She broke off and stared at him. “What did you just say?”
“What if I don’t want to let you go?”
There was a clatter and thump from upstairs, but for once Emily didn’t rush to investigate. She trusted Agnes, and anyway, her feet were glued to the floor. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He closed the door, giving them privacy. “I want to talk about us.”
Us.
Such a small, simple word to hold such deep significance. “There can’t be an us, Ryan.”