“Do you think he’s okay?” Chantelle asked.
Emily felt a heaviness weigh on her shoulders.
“I think he is,” she told Chantelle. “I just think he’s slipped back into an old habit.”
Though Roy had promised to stay in touch, Emily knew old habits died hard, and there were still times when her efforts would be met by radio silence from him. It stung just as much now as it had when she was younger, when his long, slow disengagement from the family had begun following Charlotte’s death. He’d drifted away from her bit by bit then and as a scared, confused child she’d just let it happen. Not anymore. She had a right to her father, to demand him to be in her life, to share with him her life and expect to hear the same from him.
She took her cell phone out and dialled his number. She listened to it ring and ring. There was no answer. She tried again, aware of Chantelle watching pensively from the corner of her eye. Each new attempt she made to get in touch with him made her stomach twist with anguish. On the fifth attempt, she slung the phone down into her lap.
“Why won’t he answer?” Chantelle asked, her voice sad and frightened.
Emily knew she had to put on a brave face for the child but it was a real struggle. “He’s asleep a lot,” she said, weakly.
“Not for three days straight,” Chantelle replied. “He should check his phone when he wakes up and see he’s missed your calls.”
“He might not have thought to check,” Emily told him, attempting a reassuring smile. “You know what he’s like with technology.”
But Chantelle was too smart for Emily’s excuses and she didn’t rise to her feeble attempt at humor. Her expression remained serious and sullen.
“Do you think he’s died?” she asked.
“No!” Emily exclaimed, feeling anger take off the edge of her worry. “Why would you say such an awful thing?”
Chantelle seemed surprised by Emily’s outburst. Her eyes were wide with shock.
“Because he’s very ill,” she said meekly. “I just meant…” Her voice faded away.
Emily took a breath to calm herself. “I’m sorry, Chantelle. I didn’t mean to snap like that. I get very worried when I haven’t heard from Papa Roy in a while and what you said would be my worst nightmare.”
Roy. Alone. Dead in bed with no one beside him. She cringed at the thought, her heart clenching.
Chantelle looked tentatively at Emily. She seemed unsure of herself, as though she was treading on eggshells, worried that Emily would erupt at her again.
“But there’s no way for us to know, is there? Whether he’s still alive?”
Emily forced herself to be the grown up Chantelle needed her to be, even though each question stung like a fresh wound being sluiced. “We know he’s alive because Vladi is taking care of him. And if Vladi hasn’t called then nothing is wrong. That was the deal, remember?”
In her mind she conjured up the weather-beaten tanned face of Vladi, the Greek fisherman her father had struck up a friendship with. Vladi had promised to keep her informed of Roy’s condition, even if Roy himself wanted his deterioration to be kept from her. Whether Vladi kept good on his promise was another thing, though. Who would he be more loyal too, anyway; her, a young woman he’d known for a few days, or his lifelong friend Roy?
“Mommy,” Chantelle said softly. “You’re crying.”
Emily touched her cheek and found it was wet with tears. She wiped them with her sleeve.
“I’m scared,” she told Chantelle. “That’s why. I miss Papa Roy so much. I just wish we could convince him to be here with us.”
“Me too,” Chantelle said. “I want him and Nana Patty to live in the inn. It’s sad that they’re so far away.”
Emily reached her arm around her daughter and held her tightly. She could hear Chantelle gently sobbing and felt awful for her part in the child’s unhappiness. Crying in front of her was never the plan. But it some ways she wondered whether it helped Chantelle to see her mother’s emotions, to see that it was okay to be weak sometimes, to be scared and worried. The child had spent so many years of her life having to be strong and brave, perhaps seeing her mom cry would show her it was okay to let go of control sometimes.
“Why do people have to die?” Chantelle said then, her voice muffled by the way her face was pressed into Emily’s chest.
“Because…” Emily began, before pausing and thinking very deeply about it. “I think because their spirit has elsewhere to be.”
“You mean Heaven?” Chantelle asked.
“It could be Heaven. It could be somewhere else entirely.”
“Daddy doesn’t believe in that,” Chantelle said. “He says no one knows whether you go somewhere after you die, and that in Judaism it’s up to God to decide whether you get an afterlife or not.”
“That’s what daddy believes,” Emily told her. “But you can believe whatever you want to. I believe something different. And that’s okay too.”
Chantelle blinked through her wet eyelashes, her big blue eyes on Emily. “What do you believe?”
Emily paused and took a long time to formulate her answer. Finally she spoke. “I believe there is somewhere that we go to after we pass, not in our bodies, they stay here on earth, but our spirits rise up and go to the next place. When Papa Roy gets there he will be so, so happy.” She smiled, comforted by her own beliefs. “There’ll be no more pain for him at all or ever again.”
“No pain at all?” Chantelle’s sweet voice sang. “But what will it feel like?”
Emily pondered the question. “I think it will feel like that moment when you take a bite of your favorite food all the time.”
Chantelle looked at her through her tearstained lashes and giggled. Emily continued.
“Like eating chocolate cake forever but never getting sick. Each bite just as great as the last. Or like that feeling you get when you step back from something you’ve been working on for months and see your accomplishment and realize that you made it.”
“Like my clock?” the little girl asked.
Emily nodded. “Exactly. And it’s the perfect kind of warm, like being in the jacuzzi at the spa.”
“Does it smell of lavender like the spa?”
“Yes! And there are rainbows.”
“What about animals?” Chantelle asked. “It wouldn’t be any fun if there weren’t any animals to pet and play with.”
“If you think there should be animals,” Emily told her, “Then there are animals.”
Chantelle nodded. But her smile soon faded and she returned to her pensive expression. “That’s just make believe though. We don’t really know.”
Emily hugged her tightly. “No. No one does. No one can. All we have is what we believe. What we choose to believe. And I believe that that is what’s waiting for Papa Roy. And it’s what your aunt Charlotte has, too. And she looks down at us whenever she wants to, and sends us little signs so we know she’s thinking of us. Papa Roy will do the same when the time comes.”
“I’ll miss him,” Chantelle said. “Even if he does go to somewhere warm and happy, I’ll miss him being here.”
For all her reassurances about the afterlife, Emily couldn’t help what she felt deeply inside. That she would still be left alone, to live out her life without him. He would be gone from her forever and though for him it would be a wondrous step into the unknown, for her it would mean pain and loneliness and misery.
She squeezed Chantelle tightly.
“I’ll miss him too.”
Chapter Four
Lights from the town hall spilled down the steps as Emily ascended them. Even from here she could hear numerous voices coming from inside. It sounded like the whole town might have turned up to hear the zoning board’s decision about Raven’s Inn. It shouldn’t surprise Emily that every local would come. Even with the late announcement and the scheduling so soon after Thanksgiving, the people of Sunset Harbor cared so much about their town to make the time to attend all meetings.
She opened the door and saw that every available seat was taken. Raven Kingsley was all the way at the front, chatting with Mayor Hansen and his aide, Marcella. That didn’t bode well, Emily thought to herself. If Raven had got them on her side it would only be a matter of time before the rest of the town were turned over as well.
She felt a tug on her arm and turned to see Amy and Harry.
“I’m so glad you came,” Amy said. “There’s been some rumblings in the underground that Raven’s going to get the go ahead today. The zoning board aren’t going to challenge her tearing down the old house in favor for something more modern. It looks like it will all come down to the residents.”
“We have to fight this,” Harry said. “A hotel could spell disaster for the inn, and my restaurant. Who’s going to want to come all the way to our side of the harbor when there’s somewhere newer and cheaper in a more central location? With ocean views? Think of all those random business bookings we get at the moment. We’d lose all that custom, I’m sure.”
Harry’s concerns made Emily worry even more than she had previously. She didn’t want to stand in the way of Raven, especially after she’d confided in her about her bitter divorce. But she couldn’t just stand by and have her own livelihood destroyed in such a manner. Raven, from all she’d heard, wasn’t the type to take any prisoners. She had that ruthless New York business mentality – kill or be killed. Emily wasn’t much of a fighter. She really could’ve done with Trevor by her side right now!
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Emily told them. “I don’t want to stop her from doing her job just because I’m scared.”
“Then do it for your family,” Harry said. “For your friends and town. No one wants an ugly building on our oceanfront, and we don’t want our beloved inn to go out of business either. It’s not good for anyone.”
“How are most people voting?” Emily asked.
Amy pointed to the corner, at the Patels. “Against, of course.” Then over to the Bradshaws. “Against.” She pointed next to Birk and Bertha. Birk owned the gas station and was the first person Emily had met in Sunset Harbor. “I think they’re for. More cars coming in to town means more customers, as far as they’re concerned.”
Emily chewed her lip in consternation. The reality of a new rival inn arriving in town was starting to feel very real to her. The way Mayor Hansen was guffawing at something Raven had just said made her feel even worse.
Harry nudged her then. “Look, the meeting’s about to start.”
She turned towards the stage and the small wooden podium. The room fell silent as Mayor Hansen took his position. He banged his gavel, unnecessarily considering everyone was already paying him their undivided attention.
“Welcome everyone,” he said. “We’re here for the postponed discussions about Raven Kingsley’s proposition to clear the dilapidated ocean side lot and build a new hotel there. You may or may not know already that the zoning board met earlier this week and voted unanimously for the plans to go ahead.”
Emily looked at Harry and Amy. They were both grimacing. Emily felt her own face mirroring their expressions.
Mayor Hansen carried on. “Of course, we’re a small town and the views of our residents are as equally important as the zoning boards. More so, in fact, now that we’ve lost our dear friend Trevor Mann.”
He pressed a hand to his heart. There was a light-hearted ripple of laughter through the audience as everyone recalled Trevor’s fierce, sometimes menacing protectiveness over the town.
“I believe many of you had a chance to speak to Raven over the thanksgiving break,” Mayor Hansen finished. “So I’m looking forward to hearing all of your opinions. I suggest we here from Emily Morey first, since a new inn would have the greatest impact on her. Emily, would you like to take the floor?”
All eyes turned to her. Emily felt that familiar sensation of being put on the spot. And she really was in a bind. She didn’t want to trash Raven’s dream just because it might make things a little trickier for her. It wasn’t in her spirit. But at the same time, Harry and Amy’s tense expressions from beside her reminded her that there were people counting on her. All her staff, her family. They’d expanded the inn massively, having the luxury of no competition. At the very least Raven’s new venture would mean some cut backs for Emily’s inn, including staff reductions.
“I…” Emily began, feeling her throat becoming dry.
She looked over at Raven sitting on the stage beside Marcella. For only the second time since she’d met her, Emily saw a genuine smile on her face. Like Emily when she’d first arrived, Raven had encountered hostility and suspicion from the locals. Emily was probably the one person she counted as a friendly acquaintance.
“I’m for,” Emily suddenly blurted. “I think there’s a market that Raven’s inn could capture. She caters for the business and corporate end of the market, with conferences and the like. I cater more towards familie, weddings and festivities. There’s room for the both of us.”
She spoke very quickly, trying to get her explanation out before her voice was entirely swallowed by the uproar. But it was useless. Everyone was speaking loudly over one another, directing frustration towards her, as if she were the one who’d come up with the plan in the first place, rather than the person who was going to be the most affected by it should it come to fruition!
And even worse were the thunderous expressions on Harry and Amy’s faces. They looked like she’d just said the worst thing in the world, like she’d let them down terribly. But it just wouldn’t be right or fair to sway everyone to her side, to tell Raven no. It would be downright mean spirited.
All she could do now was hope that enough other people voted no so she wouldn’t have to deal with the outcome of her generosity.
Emily stepped back, seeking the shadows. But in a small town like Sunset Harbor there was no hiding. She’d made her bed, now she would have to lie in it.
* * *
“What the Hell was that, Emily?” Amy demanded once the town meeting was over. “Anyone would think you wanted to go bankrupt and ruin the town!”
Her friend had let her go less than five paces from the town hall before launching her attack, stopping her on the first step. The weather had grown colder since they’d been inside and Emily shivered from the sudden drop in temperature.
But despite the cold, her cheeks were warm with embarrassment. Emily hated making a public scene, especially since half of the town were filling out of the hall behind them.
“Can we talk about this later?” Emily said under her breath.
“No!” Amy exclaimed. “I want to know what’s gotten into you. Why are you lying down like a lapdog for Raven Kingsley?”
“That’s hardly what’s happening,” Emily refuted, stung by the ferocity of Amy’s words. “Just because I don’t want to trash her dreams doesn’t mean I’m bending over backwards to accommodate her.”
Amy placed her hands on her hips. “Funny, ‘cos it’s certainly coming across that way. I mean just the other day you were telling me all your woes about laying off staff over winter and not having any bookings. What do you really think will happen when you have a competitor like Raven Kinsgley offering cheaper rooms, cheaper food, a better location? You may as well just fire Harry now.”
“Ames, please calm down,” Emily said, softly. She tried to reach for her friend, but Amy pulled away. She wasn’t a crier, never had been, but Emily noticed that her face was red from the strain of holding it together.
“I just don’t understand you,” Amy said, turning her face away. “I don’t understand what you’re doing.”
Emily had no words. It was hard to explain herself, beyond the fact that she wanted to be a decent human being and spread kindness. She’d seen the way Chantelle had resolved her issue with Laverne over Halloween and had been humbled by the child’s capacity for care and forgiveness. The only may she could make sense of it now was that dragging someone wasn’t right, no matter what.