“It’s a lot more scenic than I expected,” Jules commented, her eyes darting back and forth. Emma knew she was taking in the festive garlands on every streetlamp and the decorations around each corner. “I feel like we landed in one of those Christmas movies.”
Emma snorted. “Yeah, that’s kind of how it’s always been.”
Growing up, Emma had always thought it was a little too much, especially when it felt like the holidays were an excuse to dress everything up and pretend nothing existed outside the bubble. Everywhere she looked, it screamedChristmas advertisingwith its bright colors. Despite her initial aversion, Emma was surprised to realize how nostalgic it all made her, especially when a group of kids raced past throwing snowballs at each other and shrieking.
It took her back to evenings spent playing with her friends, when everything in the world seemed possible.
A smile hovered on Emma’s lips as they strolled down Railroad Avenue and in the direction of Millbrook Fork, the oak trees just as tall and majestic as she remembered. Next to Rockport Housing Authority, a bright neon sign pulsed in front of a coffee shop, where a group of people huddled outside, music spilling out onto the streets.
Jules tugged on her arm. “I’ve heard of this place. The cab driver told me it’s one of the best places to get coffee. Come on.”
Before Emma could protest, she was being dragged through the double wooden doors. The smell of icing, sugar, and cinnamon hit her first, followed quickly by the distinct aroma of pumpkin spice and freshly brewed coffee. Emma blinked, and the rest of Harper’s Brew came into focus, revealing vinyl booths on one side, a group of tables scattered throughout, and a bar that housed an impressive array of drinks.
Jules pushed her way through the crowd and steered them toward a table in the back, next to the windows. As soon as they sat down, a cheer rose through the air, and Emma glanced over her shoulder. She smiled when she spotted several foldable tables in the back, along with a group of people in aprons and a slew of sprinkles and piping bags littering the few empty surfaces.
Another cheer rose through the crowd, and Emma shook her head slightly.
She couldn’t believe they were still hosting decorating contests.
Jules’s blue eyes were wide as she glanced around, eagerly drinking it all in.
Emma’s smile faded as she picked up a laminated menu and skimmed through it.
Had she been too hasty in keeping her daughter away from this place?
Had she let her own pride keep Jules from experiencing the sense of joy and community Rockport encompassed?
Growing up here wasn’t all bad, remember? It’s certainly a better place to raise a family.
And over the years, shehadconsidered it.
She’d even come close to moving back a few times, but something always stopped her. After the fallout with Mom and Dad, Emma told herself it was the bitter memory of last being here, of having to replay the harsh words she’d exchanged with her parents on a relentless loop inside of her head. Even now, she was half-expecting to see them step out from behind a corner and point a finger at her until she left.
Emma had no idea if her parents were right to call her a sellout, but she had often wondered over the years.
Had turning her back on that part of her really hurt them that much?
Had all of her success come at a heavy price, one she would never be able to pay?
“I think it’s some kind of cookie decorating contest,” Jules mused, her lips lifting into a smile. “It looks like fun.”
“It usually is,” Emma replied, her eyes still fixed on the menu. “People tend to get competitive though. I’ve seen tables get turned over and full-on brawls break out over a loss.”
Jules chuckled and twirled a lock of hair around her fingers. “It can’t be that bad.”
Emma lowered the menu and looked directly at her daughter. “You know, I remember you taking part in a competition or two when you were little.”
Jules’s face lit up, her eyes practically glowing. “I don’t remember that at all.”
Another jolt of guilt coursed through Emma, prompting her to put the menu down entirely and link her fingers together. “I’ll see if I can dig up some pictures.”
Jules had been so young then, so full of life, and Emma wanted to share that part of her life with her daughter.
She’d wanted Jules to know what Rockport was like.
Suddenly, she wished she hadn’t worked so hard to keep her hometown in the past.
Sitting across from Jules and seeing her hum along to the music and drink in the festive atmosphere, Emma began to wonder, for the umpteenth time, if she’d made a mistake keeping Jules away.
