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CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO

Panicking, Emily rushed back into the house.

“Daniel!” she cried up the stairs. “Mr. Kapowski’s gone! He left because I wasn’t up in time to make him breakfast!”

Daniel appeared at the top of the stairs wearing only his pajama bottoms, his broad shoulders and muscular chest on display. His hair was a mess, giving him the air of a hurried schoolboy.

“He probably just went to Joe’s,” he said, trotting down the steps toward her. “You were going on about how amazing the waffles were, if you recall.”

“But

I’m

supposed to make him breakfast!” Emily cried. “It’s a B

and B

, not just a B!”

Daniel reached the landing and swept Emily up into his arms, holding her gently around her waist. “Maybe he didn’t realize what the second B stood for. Thought it stood for bath. Or bananas,” he joked. He pressed a kiss into her neck but Emily batted him away and wriggled out of the embrace.

“Daniel, stop fooling around!” she cried. “This is serious. He’s my first ever guest and I wasn’t awake in time to make him breakfast.”

Daniel shook his head and rolled his eyes with mocking affection.

“It’s no big deal. He’ll just be having breakfast down by the ocean instead. He’s on vacation, remember?”

“But there’s an ocean view from my porch,” Emily stammered, her voice growing thin. She sank down onto the bottom step, feeling small, like a child who’d been put on the naughty step, then dropped her head in her hands. “I’m a horrible host.”

Daniel rubbed her shoulders. “That’s not true. You’re just a little unsteady on your feet right now. Everything’s strange and new. But you’re doing fine. Okay?”

He said the last word sternly, almost paternally. Emily couldn’t help but be comforted. She looked up at him.

“Do you want me poach

you

an egg at least?” she asked.

“That would be delightful.” Daniel smiled. He cupped her face in his hands and pressed a kiss onto her lips.

Together they went into the kitchen. The noise of the door opening stirred Mogsy the dog and her pup, Rain, from their slumber in the utility room, just the other side of the barn doors. Emily knew that keeping the dogs out of the kitchen and any parts of the house she needed as the B&B was an absolute must if she didn’t want to get closed down for health and safety reasons immediately, but she felt bad confining the dogs to such a small portion of the house. She reminded herself that it was a temporary situation. She’d been able to have four of Mogsy’s five pups adopted by her friends in town, but Rain, the weak runt, was a harder sell, and no one seemed even remotely interested in taking the mama, who was, to put it gently, an ugly mutt.

Once the dogs were let outside and fed, Emily went back into the kitchen. In the meantime, Daniel had managed to pop out into the garden to fetch this morning’s eggs from Lola and Lolly, the chickens, and brew a pot of coffee. Emily took a mug gratefully and breathed in the aroma, then went over to the large Arga stove—another relic of her father’s she’d had restored—and got to work practicing making poached eggs.

Of all the rooms in the house, the kitchen was one of Emily’s favorites. The poor room had been ravished by time and abandonment when she’d first arrived, then a storm had whipped through it causing further damage, and

then

the toaster had blown up and caused a fire. The smoke damage had been far more destructive than the actual fire; that had only damaged a shelf and consumed some cookbooks, whereas the smoke had managed to permeate every crack and crevice, leaving streaks of black and the odor of burnt plastic wherever it had touched.

In just six short months, everything that could have gone wrong with the room had. But after some grueling late nights toiling away, it had now finally been re-re-restored and looked charming, with its retro fridge and original white Victorian Belfast basin, and its black marble work surfaces.

“Turns out,” Emily said, plunking her fifth attempt at a poached egg on Daniel’s plate, “that I’m not such a horrible cook after all.”

“See?” Daniel said, cutting into the white of the egg and letting the golden yolk spill across his toast. “I told you. You have to listen to me more often.”

Emily smiled, enjoying Daniel’s gentle humor. Ben, her ex, had never made her laugh like Daniel did. He’d never been able to comfort her in her moments of panic either. With Daniel it was like nothing was ever too big to handle. Be it storm or fire, he always made her feel like everything was okay, was manageable. His steadiness was one of the most appealing things about him. He could calm and soothe her in the same way looking out at the ocean calmed her. But she was still never certain where he stood, whether he was feeling what she was feeling. She felt that their relationship was like a riptide, one they couldn’t control even if they wanted to.

“So,” Daniel said, munching happily on his breakfast, “after we’ve eaten, we should probably start getting ready.”

“Getting ready for what?” Emily asked, sipping on her second mug of steaming black coffee.

“It’s the Memorial Day Parade,” Daniel said.

Emily vaguely remembered attending the parade as a child and wanted to see it again, but she’d already messed up enough today to allow herself a trip.

“I have too much to do here. I need to make up the guest bedroom.”

“Already done,” Daniel replied. “I fixed up the room while you were with the dogs.”

“You did?” Emily asked suspiciously. “Did you replace the towels?”

Daniel nodded.

“And the mini shampoos?”

“Yup.”

“What about the little sachets of coffee and sugar?”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Everything that needed to be replaced was replaced. I made the bed—and before you say anything, yes, I do know how to make a bed, I’ve lived alone for years. Everything is ready for him when he returns. So, are you coming to the parade?”

Emily shook her head. “I need to be here for when Mr. Kapowski gets back.”

“He doesn’t need babysitting.”

Emily chewed her lip. She was nervous about her first guest and desperate to do a good job. If she couldn’t make this work, she’d be returning to New York with her tail between her legs, probably to sleep on Amy’s couch, or worse, in her mom’s spare room.

“But what if he needs something. More pillows? Or—”

“—more bananas?” Daniel interrupted with a smirk.

Emily sighed, defeated. Daniel was right. Mr. Kapowski wouldn’t be expecting her to wait on him hand and foot. If anything, he would probably prefer her not to interfere too much. He was on vacation, after all. Most people wanted some peace and quiet.

“Come on,” Daniel urged. “It will be fun.”

“All right,” Emily said, relenting. “I’ll come.”

Everywhere Emily looked she saw American flags. Her vision had become a kaleidoscope of stars and stripes, causing her to gasp in wonder. Flags hung in every store window, in knitted bunting strung from lamppost to lamppost. There were even some pinned to the backs of the benches. And that was nothing compared to the number of flags being waved by passersby. Everyone who strolled along the sidewalk seemed to have one.

“Daddy,” Emily said, looking up at her father. “Can I have a flag too?”

The tall man smiled down at her. “Of course you can, Emily Jane.”

“And me, and me!” a little voice piped up.

Emily turned to see her sister, Charlotte, her bright purple scarf wrapped around her neck, so mismatched with her ladybug boots. She was just a toddler, barely able to keep her balance.

They followed their father, both girls holding tightly to one of his hands, as they went with him across the street and into a small store that sold homemade pickles and relishes in jars.

“Well, hello, Roy.” The lady behind the counter beamed. Then she grinned at the two little girls. “Up for the holidays?”

“No one does Memorial Day like Sunset Harbor,” her father replied in his easygoing friendliness. “Two flags for the girls, please, Karen.”

The lady fetched some flags from behind the counter. “Why don’t we make it three?” she said. “Don’t forget about yourself!”

“What about four?” Emily said. “We shouldn’t forget about Mommy either.”

Roy’s jaw stiffened and Emily knew right away that she’d said the wrong thing. Mommy wouldn’t want a flag. Mommy hadn’t even come with them to Sunset Harbor for their weekend trip. It was just the three of them. Again. It seemed to be the three of them more and more often these days.

“Two will be plenty,” her dad replied a little stiffly. “It’s just for the kids really.”

The woman behind the counter handed the girls a flag each, her friendliness replaced by an embarrassed kind of awkwardness in her realization that she’d accidentally stepped across some unspoken, invisible line.

Emily watched as her father paid the woman and thanked her, noting how his smile was forced now, how his posture was stiffer. She wished she hadn’t said anything about Mommy. She looked at the flag in her gloved grasp, suddenly feeling less like celebrating.

Emily gasped, finding herself back on the Sunset Harbor high street with Daniel. She shook her head, dislodging the swirling memories. This was not the first time she had experienced a sudden return of a lost memory, but the experience still shook her to the core.

“Are you okay?” Daniel said, touching her arm lightly, his expression concerned.

“Yes,” Emily replied, but her voice sounded stunned. She tried to smile but only managed to weakly raise the corners of her mouth. She hadn’t told Daniel about the way her childhood memories were returning to her in fragments; she didn’t want to scare him away.

Determined not to let the intrusive memories ruin her enjoyment of the day, Emily threw herself into the celebrations. Many years may have passed since she was last here, but Emily was still in awe of the spectacle of it all. She marveled at the way the small town took celebrations and ran with them. One of the things she was growing to love the most about Sunset Harbor was its traditions. She had a feeling Memorial Day was going to become another holiday she loved.

“Hi, Emily!” Raj Patel called from the other side of the street. He was walking along with his wife, Dr. Sunita Patel, two people whom Emily now considered friends.

Emily waved to them and then said to Daniel, “Oh look. There’s Birk and Bertha. And is that baby Katy in the stroller with Jason and Vanessa?” She pointed at the gas station owner and his disabled wife. Beside them stood their son, the firefighter who had saved Emily’s kitchen from a blaze. He and his wife had recently had their first child, a girl called Katy, and had taken one of Emily’s stray puppies as a gift for her. “We should go and say hello,” Emily said, wanting to speak to her friends.

“In a minute,” Daniel said, nudging her with his shoulder. “The parade’s coming.”

Emily looked down the street as the local high school’s marching band lined up, ready to begin the procession. The drum began to beat and was swiftly followed by the sound of the brass instruments playing “When the Saints Go Marching In.” Emily watched, delighted, as the band marched past. Behind them were cheerleaders in matching red, white, and blue ensembles. They back-flipped and high-kicked their way along the road.

Next came a troop of face-painted kindergarteners, chubby-cheeked and cherubic. Emily felt a small pang watching them. Having children had never been a huge priority for her—she hadn’t exactly been in a rush to become a mother considering how abysmal her relationship with her own was—but now, watching the kids in the parade, Emily realized that something had changed within her. There was a new desire there, a small yearning tugging at her. She looked across at Daniel and wondered whether it was something he felt too, whether the sight of the adorable toddlers made him feel the same way. As always, his expression was unreadable.

The parade continued on. Next up was a group of tough-looking women from the local roller derby jumping and racing around on their skates, followed by a couple of stilt-walkers and a large float carrying a papier-mâché replica of the Abraham Lincoln statue.

“Emily, Daniel,” a voice came from behind. It was Mayor Hansen, flanked by his aide, Marcella, who looked more than a little harried. “Are you enjoying our local festivities?” Mayor Hansen asked. “It’s not your first year if I recall, but perhaps the first you’ll be able to remember.”

He chuckled innocently, but Emily squirmed. She tried to put on a calm and happy demeanor.

“You’re right. Sadly, I don’t recall having come here as a child, but I’m certainly enjoying myself now. What about you, Marcella?” she added, trying to get the attention off of her. “Is this your first year?”

Marcella gave one decisive, efficient nod, then went back to her clipboard.

“Don’t mind her.” Mayor Hansen chuckled. “She’s a workaholic.”

Marcella’s gaze flicked up just briefly, but it was long enough for Emily to read the frustration contained within her eyes. Clearly the mayor’s laidback attitude frustrated her. Emily could empathize with Marcella. She’d been the same just a mere six months ago; too serious, too stressed, fueled by little more than caffeine and a fear of failure. Looking at Marcella was like holding up a mirror to her younger self. Emily’s only hope for her was that she learned to unwind, that Sunset Harbor would help her to uncoil her tightly wound springs, even if only a little.

“Anyway,” Mayor Hansen said, “back to the grindstone. I have medals to give out, don’t I, Marcella? Award ceremony for the egg and spoon race or something.”

“The Under Fives Olympics,” Marcella said with an exhalation.

“That’s the one,” Mayor Hansen replied, and the two of them disappeared into the crowd.

Daniel smiled. “It’s impossible not to fall in love with this crazy town,” he said, slinging his arm around Emily.

She snuggled into him, feeling safe and protected. Together they watched a conga line go by, waving at their friends as they passed: Cynthia from the bookstore with her bright orange hair and mismatched clothing, Charles and Barbara Bradshaw from the fish shop, Parker from the organic fruit and vegetable wholesalers.

Just then, Emily spotted someone amongst the crowds who made her blood run cold. Dressed in checkered golfing pants and a lime green sweater that barely covered his portly belly, stood Trevor Mann.

“Don’t look now,” she grumbled, grabbing Daniel’s hand for security. “But Mr. Sneery Neighbor’s joined the party.”

Daniel, of course, immediately looked over. Like he had some kind of sixth sense, Trevor immediately noticed. He glanced at them both, his dark eyes instantly sparkling with mischief.

Emily grimaced. “I told you not to look!” she chastised Daniel as Trevor walked toward them.

“You know there’s an unwritten law,” Daniel hissed back, “that says if you say ‘don’t look now’ to someone, they’re going to look.”

It was too late to escape. Trevor Mann was upon them, emerging through the crowd like some horrible mustached beast.

“Oh no,” Emily said, groaning.

“Emily,” Trevor said in his pretend friendly voice, “you haven’t forgotten about those back taxes you owe on your house, have you? Because I certainly haven’t.”

“The mayor gave me an extension,” Emily replied. “You were in the meeting, Trevor, I’m surprised you missed it.”

“I don’t care whether Mayor Hansen said there’s no rush in paying them back, it’s not up to him. It’s up to the bank. And I’ve been in touch with them to tell them all about your

illegal

occupation of the house and the

illegal

business you’re now running from it.”

“You’re a jerk,” Daniel said, protectively squaring up to Trevor.

“Leave it,” Emily said, resting a hand on his arm. The last thing she needed was for Daniel to lose his temper.

Trevor smirked. “Mayor Hansen’s extension won’t last forever and certainly won’t hold up in any legal sense. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure your B&B sinks and never floats again.”

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