She eased into the parking lot across the street from Crackerjacks Whistlestop Market and looked through the windshield. Half of her was tempted to reach out and trace the vague outlines through the glass, but the other half was terrified and wrestling with the impulse to turn around and drive back to the airport.
Jules probably hasn’t even gotten her bag yet. You still have a chance to get back on the plane, go back to the city, and pretend this never happened.
It wasn’t too late.
Guilt churned in her stomach as soon as the thought crossed her mind.
Her dad had reached out for a reason, and despite their differences and the terse conversations they’d had since then, she didn’t have it in her to turn her back on him, not when he needed her.
Why else would he have sent the letter?
Sighing, Emma shoved the door open and paused to lift the hood of her coat. She tightened the sash around her waist and nearly lost her footing. Her heart pounded as she righted herself and checked both sides of the street before crossing. The glass doors of the supermarket swung open, the smell of apple cider and gingerbread cookies spilling out to greet her. Her stomach grumbled as she smiled and took a sample from the tray held by a perky blonde in a red-and-white uniform.
Emma instinctively reached for the nearest cart and pushed her hood back.
She pushed the cart through the brightly lit aisles and found herself humming along to the music. While skimming the aisles, she felt a pair of eyes on her and glanced up. A group of older-looking women were huddled in the produce aisle and sneaking glances at her. Emma’s shoulders sagged as she averted her gaze and pretended to examine the milk cartons on display. She was reaching for some chocolate when the same group of women drifted closer, and she caught snippets of their conversation.
“It can’t be her. Doesn’t she have a job in the city?”
“Some soulless lawyer, I heard. I wonder what she’s doing back.”
“Do you remember how upset her parents were the last time she came to visit? She caused quite a stir, didn’t she?”
“She used to have such potential. I don’t know what she was thinking, abandoning her roots like that and becoming a lawyer, no less.”
Emma stiffened as they drifted closer, and she wheeled around to face them, shoulders squared together. “Hello, ladies.”
A few of them had the decency to look away and examine the floor.
One of them was peering at her.
Emma offered them a tight smile. “It’s good to see you all again. I hope you’re enjoying the holidays.”
With that, she threw her head back and pushed the cart past them, aware of several pairs of eyes glued to the back of her head.
What were they saying about her now?
She was sure they were coming up with their own theories about how and why she left the way she did or muttering about what a disappointment she was to her parents.
As far as they were concerned, Emma had been one of Rockport’s best and brightest—until she’d left for the city without looking back.
They would’ve forgiven you if you’d ended up marrying one of them, but I think they’re just as annoyed as your parents that you married a city guy.
But they didn’t know her, and they had no idea what she’d had to overcome.
Being the daughter of a glamorous movie star from the seventies hadn’t been easy, and she’d lived her whole adolescence being compared to her larger-than-life mother.
Having to live up to that had been almost impossible, and Emma had stopped trying during her last year of high school.
It wasn’t until her mother stepped away from the limelight many years later that Emma had finally been able to breathe.
With a slight shake of her head, she stopped in front of the snacks.
“This isn’t how it was supposed to happen,” Marie said, her voice rising toward the end. “You were supposed to come back. You were supposed to work here.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry I didn’t stick to the plan.”
Marie’s hand darted out, but Emma stepped out of her grasp and frowned. “Sweetheart, please. We just want what’s best for you, and we don’t understand why you’re making these choices. Do you really want to raise a child in the city? Rockport is much nicer…”
