Chapter Seventeen
She turned the page over and reached for her drink. After a quick sip of her chamomile tea, Amy found herself glancing up and looking directly at the door to the bakery. The bell above the door rang, and Jack Johnson stepped in and shoved one hand in the pocket of his jeans. He paused to flick his hair out of his eyes, and his eyes darted around the bakery, stopping when he saw Emily behind the counter, rearranging the baked goods behind the glass display.
His entire face lit up, and he took a step in her direction.
Amy smiled to herself as Jack crossed over to the cash register and joined the line. Slowly, she lifted her book up, but after rereading the same paragraph a few times and realizing she was no closer to understanding it, she gave up and slammed the book shut. Then, she fixed her gaze on Jack, who was now standing across from Emily, a shy smile on his face.
Even from where she sat, she could see the color rising on Emily’s cheeks.
When Jack used his hands to gesture, and Emily burst into laughter, Amy’s smile only grew.
She curled her fingers around the mug and took small sips, eyeing them over the rim the entire time. Then, Jack steppedbehind the glass display and peered at the baked goodies. He kept sneaking glances at Emily the entire time, who was too busy glancing around the bakery to notice. With a frown, Amy watched as Emily handed him a paper bag full of baked goodies, blushing further when their hands touched.
Sitting up straighter, Amy called out to Jack and waved him over.
His brows furrowed as he made a beeline for her, pausing to brush crumbs off his shirt when he was a few feet away. Suddenly, he was standing in front of her, a bewildered expression on his face as his eyes furrowed together, and his hands fell limply to his side. She gestured to the booth opposite her, and he sank into it, casting a quick look over at Emily, who was wiping one of the tables nearby.
“I don’t know if you remember me. We’re in the support group together.”
Jack nodded, a small smile hovering on the edge of his lips. “Yes, I remember you, Ms. Gruntle. My dad mentioned you.”
Amy grimaced. “Please, call me Amy. Ms. Gruntle makes me feel so old.”
And with any luck, she wasn’t going to be a Mrs. for much longer.
She could feel it in her bones.
Once Emily walked past, Amy leaned sideways and touched her wrist. Startled, Emily drew to a halt, and her eyebrows drew together. “Is everything okay?”
“Come and sit with us and keep me company. I’m having a tough day.”
Emily looked over at the cash register and then back at Amy. “I suppose I could sit with you for a little while.”
“My students haven’t stopped talking about your baked goods,” Jack said as soon as she sat down. His eyes didn’t leaveher face as he linked his fingers together. “Any chance I can convince you to custom make a special order?”
Emily raised an eyebrow. “It depends on what you want it for. Is it to tell them about another test?”
Jack shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that to you twice in a row, or the students, for that matter. I’ve got a reputation to protect.”
Emily’s shoulders relaxed as she leaned back into the booth. “What do you think, Amy?”
Amy blinked. “Oh, whatever you prefer and whatever is right for the students.”
So long as it kept the two of them talking, Amy didn’t care what they did or whether they involved her in the conversation. Over the next half an hour, Amy’s eyes darted between the two of them, who hadn’t stopped talking once since they sat down. Now and again, Emily tried to draw her into the conversation, but Amy kept waving her away. She was happy to sit amongst them while Emily gave Jack shy smiles, and he grew more and more animated.
They barely noticed anyone else, and she could see Jack come up with excuses to keep leaning over the table and brush his hand against Emily’s. Every single time, she noticed Emily’s color deepen, and her expression grew softer and more confused. Once she was done with her second cup of tea, Amy stood and shrugged into her coat. Then, she crept toward the door, only pausing once to glance at them over her shoulder.
She was humming to herself and imagining Emily in a long wedding dress with a veil when her phone rang. Sylvie’s name flashed across the screen, making Amy’s heart skip a beat. Her fingers were sweaty as she paused and pressed the phone to her ear. Sylvie’s voice was low and distorted, and Amy could barely make out a thing. A strong gust of wind blew by as Amy walked past rows and rows of businesses closing for the night.
In the distance, Ashley and Jude’s cottage loomed.
When she was close enough, Amy saw the figure hunched on the front steps. Her stomach clenched until she got close enough to realize it was Sylvie, with her face buried in her hands and wisps of hair escaping from her tight bun. Her clothes were wrinkled when she stood and threw herself into Amy’s arms, hard enough to almost knock them both on their backs.
Firmly, Amy righted herself and cupped the back of Sylvie’s neck. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
Sylvie shuddered and buried her face in the crook of Amy’s neck. “I know you told me not to look into it, and I shouldn’t have, but I…I couldn’t help myself.”
Amy’s stomach dipped as her other hand moved to stroke Sylvie’s hair. “What happened?”
