Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Emily tucked her hammer under her arm as she looked at the painting on the wall. She took a few steps back and then looked at it again. Was it straight? She stepped back a little further. It was… maybe straight? But also, it was maybe crooked.

She huffed in irritation. She’d really wanted to get this done tonight.

Glancing over at the clock, she wondered if the hardware store was likely to still be open. Overall, Emily was loving life in Whale Harbor, but she had to admit that a small part of her missed how you could get anything in New York at any hour of the day or night. It was after six o’clock in the evening—the hardware store probably would be done for the day, and even if it wasn’t, she likely couldn’t get there before they shut up shop for the night.

That was fine. She’d just fix the picture tomorrow.

She forced herself to sit down on the couch, grab the remote, and put on a nineties rom com that she’d seen so many times she could practically recite it in her sleep. The fond familiarity of the movie did her no good, however.

She could feel that crooked painting. It was taunting her .

With a little growl of annoyance, half at herself and half at the uncooperative artwork, Emily shut off the television and stood again. It was… darn, she couldn’t tell. Straight? Crooked?

She needed a level. She’d never be certain without a level. And she didn’t have one.

Then something occurred to her. She’d been thinking about how her new small-town location meant that she couldn’t get something from the store late at night…

But you could ask your neighbors to borrow a tool, right? That was a normal thing people did. And Darla had seemed really nice.

“Okay,” Emily said to her empty living room, putting her hands on her hips. “I can do this! I can be friendly. It will be fine.”

She had to remind herself how fine it would be another four or five times as she put on her boots and coat and walked the short distance over to Darla’s front door. And then she reminded herself once more before she got up the courage to knock.

Moments later, an unknown man opened the door, and Emily regretted everything.

“Um, hi?” she squeaked, hating that it came out like a question. What was wrong with her? She was tough and cool and had once had the New York business world in the palm of her hand. She could do this! She squared her shoulders.

“Hi,” she said again, more firmly this time. “I’m Emily Harper. I moved in next door a few weeks ago. I’m looking for Darla?”

The last part had, again, turned into a question, but she decided she’d done well enough anyway.

The man, who was tall and muscular with wavy hair, smiled kindly.

“Oh, yes, Emily, hi! Darla mentioned you. I’m her husband, Rick.” He stuck out his hand to shake and Emily grasped it. This was another skill she’d perfected in the boardroom: the confident handshake. “Come on in, come on in. Darla will be happy to see you.”

He stepped aside, gesturing her indoors. Emily winced a little.

“Oh, I’m not trying to disrupt your evening,” she hedged, although she did step inside. It was cold out that evening. “I actually just came by to see if you had a level I could borrow. I’m trying to hang a picture and it’s driving me nuts not being able to tell if it’s straight.”

Rick laughed in a warm, friendly way. “It’s no disruption at all. And I do have a level and you’re welcome to it. You’re probably doing me a favor, actually. My toolbox doesn’t get as much use as it should. Come say hi to Darla while I go find it. She’d never forgive me if I wasn’t neighborly enough to offer you a cup of tea.”

Despite her nerves, Emily grinned. This man was just as friendly as his wife had been. She understood why they were a good pair.

While she took off her boots to leave them on a designated tray inside the front door, Rick called into the house. “Hey, Dar? Emily from next door is here.”

“Oh, yay!” Emily heard Darla’s excited exclamation before she saw her crown of auburn curls come into view. “Emily, hi! I’m so glad you came by.”

Darla reached out as if she was going to hug Emily, then stopped at the last minute. “Whoops,” she said, laughing. “I’m covered in paint.”

Emily, on impulse, decided she didn’t mind risking a few specks of paint on her jacket and darted in for a quick hug, anyway.

“Do you want some tea or a glass of wine?” Darla offered, beckoning her further into the house.

“Your husband already offered tea,” Emily said with a laugh.

“I forgot the wine though,” Rick said with a joking hangdog expression.

“Tea is perfect,” Emily confirmed. “That is, if I’m not interrupting…” She trailed off.

“Oh, not at all.” Darla brushed away the concern as she led Emily to her kitchen. “I was just noodling around with my paints, but nothing was really clicking tonight. Sometimes it goes like that. You probably saved me from a case of artist’s block, actually… and saved Rick from the case of the crankys that comes with it.”

“You? Cranky? Never,” Rick pronounced, pressing a quick kiss to his wife’s head.

“Good answer,” Darla praised.

“Emily needed a level, so I’m going to go out and find it in the garage. I’ll throw the kettle on as I head out,” he said, leaving the two women to find their place at the kitchen table.

“Ooh, are you hanging art?” Darla asked as they settled in. “Decorating is one of my favorite parts of getting settled in a new place… and good thing too, since I’m always hanging something or other at work.”

“What do you do?” Emily asked, hoping to steer the question toward the other woman. Darla’s friendliness meant that it would be easy to open up to her… but Emily wasn’t ready to do so just yet.

“I run the art museum here in town,” the other woman explained. “I opened it… oh my gosh, more than a year ago now. Time flies!”

“Wait, you opened it yourself? That’s amazing!” Emily knew firsthand how much work it took to get a business up and running.

Darla beamed. “Thanks! And yes, I was looking for another way to bring art into my life when I moved back to Whale Harbor, and this was something the community needed. It’s definitely different from what I was doing in New York, but I think it’s more ‘me.’”

“Did you work in a museum in New York too?”

Darla shook her head. “No, I was a working artist at the time. I painted and tried to sell my paintings. It was exciting and wonderful in a lot of ways… but exhausting too. I could never feel like I’d done enough, which meant that I was always worrying about what came next.”

Oof. Emily could connect to that too, more than she wanted to admit.

“Is that what brought you back here?” she asked instead. “You wanted a slower pace?”

Darla laughed, although it wasn’t unkind. “Oh my gosh, no, not at all. When I first came back, I was positive it was going to be temporary. I was visiting after we lost my grandmother.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Emily said, wincing that she’d brought up bad memories. But Darla just gave her a smile that held only a hint of sadness.

“Thanks. Yeah, losing Grandma Abby was hard, but I love to remember her, as well. Anyway, yes, I came back here to support my mom and sister after she passed, and then ended up meeting a handsome marine biologist.”

Rick wandered back into the kitchen at that moment, the level held in his hand. “Don’t mind me,” he said mildly. “I’m leaving. Feel free to say more nice things about how handsome I am and how much you love me. I won’t be eavesdropping at all .”

Both women laughed, and Emily felt a slight twinge of jealousy at the easy playfulness between the couple. She’d spent so much time on her own in the past several months that she’d all but forgotten what it felt like to be that comfortable with anyone, let alone someone who was clearly a devoted spouse.

“Without puffing up his ego any further,” Darla went on, although she patted Rick’s arm fondly as she said it, while he brought mugs, a selection of tea, and a bubbling kettle to the table, “I will say that coming back here was the best decision I ever made in my life. I hope that Whale Harbor is that kind of place for you too.”

Rick slipped unobtrusively from the room, and despite his joke about eavesdropping, Emily was certain he was giving them privacy for their conversation. She was grateful. Even if she was starting to recognize how lonely she’d been during her self-imposed exile, she didn’t know that she needed to plunge right into a ton of social interaction all at once.

“I had thought that New York was that for me,” she said with a sigh. “Or I hoped it was. But when things went, well, less than perfectly there, it felt a little like I lost sight of who I was…” She trailed off, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “You know, if that makes sense.”

Darla gave her an understanding look. “It makes perfect sense,” she reassured her. “And I’m happy to talk about it as much or as little as you want.”

Emily grimaced. “Maybe not yet,” she said. “It’s… not the time.”

To her relief, Darla didn’t press. “I totally get that. I glossed over this part, but I actually went back to New York temporarily after I met Rick. I missed him a lot during that time, but in hindsight, I don’t think it was a mistake. I think having the perspective of how much I missed him and felt like part of me was missing without him—I think that magnifies my happiness now.” She gave Emily a kind smile. “So trust me when I say that I understand needing to wait for the right moment.”

Emily nodded, considering this, but didn’t add any more of her own backstory.

“Let me say one last thing,” Darla added. “Whale Harbor is… Well, it’s special. That sounds a little cheesy, but there’s something about it that makes it a good place for starting over, for getting back on track.” She reached out and touched Emily’s hand. “So whenever you’re ready, you’ll be in good company.”

The moment hung between them briefly, and Emily thought that she might be able to open up a little sooner than she thought. Not yet… but maybe soon.

Then Darla sat up, a lighthearted smile on her face. “Okay, on to more important topics: tea and an intro to Whale Harbor. First, this tea is amazing, and has no caffeine, if you like herbal teas with a sort of cinnamon and clove taste to them.” Emily did, so she accepted the teabag Darla offered. “And now for the intro. You’re a woman of taste, so I’m assuming you’ve already been to Seastar Espresso?”

“I have,” Emily agreed, happy to be on a lighter subject. “I met the woman who owns it.”

Darla’s eyes lit up. “Yes, Charity! She’s one of my best friends and a total sweetheart. Okay, you’ve checked that off the list. Have you eaten at Clown Fish Eatery yet?”

Emily shook her head.

“ Definitely do that,” Darla encouraged. “And when you get in there, you’re going to be tempted to get the lobster roll, because it’s iconic. And don’t get me wrong, it’s good. But what you really want to try is the lobster bisque . It’ll knock your socks off. You’ll be dreaming about it for days. You might think I’m overselling it, but no, it’s actually impossible to oversell it, it’s that good.”

Emily curled her hands around her warm mug and listened happily to Darla offer local recommendations until the tea started to cool, feeling, for the first time, that maybe she wouldn’t just be safe from her past in Whale Harbor.

Maybe, she thought with a glimmer of hope, she’d actually end up being happy here, after all.