When We Are Enough (Valiant Hearts #1)

4. Emmy

Chapter 4

Emmy

T he pickup truck turns smoothly into the driveway of a quaint red brick home a few minutes later, tucked a couple of streets back from the water. Mike kills the engine and silence settles over the lush garden that wraps around the front of the house.

Despite the hint of fall in the air, the garden bursts with color—flowers still blooming. Amid the greenery, glass and ceramic sculptures catch the sunlight, casting playful shadows on the ground. A gentle wind picks up, and a wind chime on the front porch sings a soft, melodious tune.

Mike turns to me, his expression growing serious for the first time since we left the garage. “I went to school with Patrick O’Connor, Ruby’s son. This family has been through a lot. Ruby raised four kids on her own, working double shifts as a cleaner. On the side, she sold her artwork.” He gestures at the vibrant displays dotting the garden.

“She made those?”

He nods. “Took her years, but she finally saved up enough to open her own gallery in town and quit cleaning. After a lot of hard work, I guess she just wants to be free, you know, to embrace her inner artist.”

“She’s talented. Those sculptures are beautiful.”

“They are. Just don’t judge a book by its cover when you meet her,” he adds, glancing at the house.

“I would never do that. I’m here to do my job, and that’s it.”

We get out of the car, the gravel on the driveway crunching underfoot, when the front door of the house opens. A beautiful woman in her early fifties steps out onto the porch. Her hair, dark with streaks of gray, flows freely, and her piercing blue eyes fix on me for a moment, assessing.

She’s wearing a brilliant turquoise silk sarong topped by a loose flax shirt that perfectly compliments her tanned complexion. She watches me a moment longer, before her face breaks into a warm smile.

“You must be Emmy.” Her voice is welcoming. “You are exquisite! Once we’ve had lunch, you absolutely must sit for a portrait. Mike, what are you doing here? Do you two know one another?”

Mike walks to the porch and kisses Ruby on the cheek. “Looking beautiful, as always, Mrs. O’Connor. Emmy had some car trouble. I’m just here in my capacity as a taxi driver.”

“Well, if you don’t mind, Emmy is staying with Granny Sloane next door. Can you drop her luggage on the front porch like the fine gentleman you are, before you go?”

“Will do.” Mike winks at me and offers a small bow before hauling my luggage out of the back of his truck.

“I can carry that—” But he’s got all three suitcases in his arms already.

He looks over his shoulder at Ruby. “Tell Patrick to call me. I haven’t seen him in ages. He’s always working.”

He steps carefully around the flowerbed and into the front yard of the house next door, which is a quaint, single story structure with a pale blue exterior, the windows adorned with white shutters. Mike walks across the neatly mown lawn and sets the suitcases by the front door.

Delicate floral curtains hang in the windows, bringing a bit of decoration to the otherwise simple exterior, and one of them twitches as Mike walks back to his truck. He waves at us before he drives off, leaving Ruby and me staring at one another.

“Well, come in. I’ll get you some lunch and then I’ll take you over to meet Granny Sloane.”

We step inside and I pause, taking in the eccentric decor that fills the space. Leopard print cushions sit on top of a fuchsia lounge, and a bright green hammock sits in the middle of the living room.

I duck my head under a couple of low-hanging dream catchers, glancing at the walls as I pass, which are a gallery of beautiful oil paintings, some landscapes of the surrounding area, others more abstract.

I stop to stare at a painting of a figure under water, the brush strokes smooth yet somehow perfectly capturing the relentless movement of the ocean. There’s something haunting about the painting and the skin prickles at the back of my neck as more of the details pop.

The face has no mouth, the hands limp by the figure’s side even as it strains toward the surface. Aware of Ruby watching me, I move to the next painting, spotting the pier off the boardwalk back in town.

“This is Harbor’s Edge?”

“That’s right. I painted it last winter. The ocean is different in the cold months, more alive.” The blue of her eyes reflects her passion for her art, for the town she calls home.

She ushers me into the kitchen, a cozy, sunlit room where the smell of fresh flowers in a vase fills the air. We sit at a small round table, and Ruby serves herbal tea and gives me a salad sandwich, thick with fresh veggies and lettuce, on a handmade plate.

“Eat up, dear. It’s all freshly grown right here. One hundred percent organic.” She gives a proud nod at the overflowing garden visible through the kitchen window.

Flavor explodes in my mouth with the first bite, and Ruby pulls out her sketchpad and sketches me as I eat. Another wind chime in the window tinkles, and I’m self-conscious as I chew, knowing she’s capturing every detail but feeling too shy to ask her to stop.

“Just relax. You have gorgeous bone structure, really a dream for any artist.” Ruby’s gaze flicks between me and the page as her hand moves deftly. “Are you a model as well as a nurse?”

“No, I never tried modeling.” I’m caught between embarrassment and warmth at her flattery. I try to focus on my sandwich, but then Ruby casually drops a bombshell.

“Granny Sloane doesn’t know I hired you yet, by the way.”

I choke slightly on my mouthful and take a sip of tea, coughing as I set the cup down. “She doesn’t?”

Ruby looks up from her sketchpad. She would have turned a lot of heads in her day—she’s still beautiful, even with lines around her eyes and gray streaking her dark hair.

“It’s for the best. Sloane can be a stubborn old thing. She’ll understand once she meets you.”

I push away the half-eaten sandwich, remembering the file my supervisor had shown me when I’d asked to switch nursing assignments, citing a personal emergency. “She had a stroke recently?”

“That’s right.”

“How mobile is she?”

“She’ll tell you she needs no help at all, that she and Patrick are getting on just fine.”

“Patrick? He’s friends with Mike, the guy who dropped me off here.”

“That’s right. He’s my oldest. He helps her, but he works long hours, and he’s just spread too thin. I sold quite a few big pieces over the summer, and have more pieces commissioned, so we can finally afford some help for her.”

“So, Mrs. O’Connor has no idea I’m coming?”

“Granny Sloane.”

“Excuse me?”

“She likes to be called Granny Sloane. And while she can be a difficult woman, she’s also one of the most generous and loving people you’ll ever meet. She supported me and the kids through so much. Don’t worry, she’ll get used to the idea quickly.”

Seeing my apprehension, Ruby stands and offers a reassuring smile. “Ready to meet her?” She sets aside her sketchpad. “We’ll have to finish this portrait another time.”

Tension snakes through my shoulders—I’ve had several years’ experience as a private nurse, but caring for someone who has no idea I’ve been hired is a first for me, and I wonder if my new life is going to be over before it even gets started. The thought of returning to Philadelphia quite literally turns my stomach, even though I loved my work there.

After graduating, Travis convinced me to go into private nursing care because it paid more and the hours were better. I’ve never taken a live-in position before, instead working hourly shifts attending to medically fragile children and adults around the city, often making meaningful connections and establishing deep relationships with my patients, who I’d see pretty frequently.

I’m not entirely convinced he was right about the money or the hours, though. Besides, he once told me when he was drunk that he only pushed me into private care so I wouldn’t have doctors trying to hit on me all day.

But then I found him and Maddy together just three months before our wedding day, in the very bed I picked out. Mom suggested pretty quickly that I leave town quietly to avoid making a scene, that she’d take care of canceling everything, while casually mentioning that he only strayed because I didn’t know how to make him happy.

Make him happy.

The image of Travis and Maddy’s naked limbs scrambling to cover up under the Egyptian cotton sheets we’d received as an engagement present flashes through my mind. It’s a visceral punch that leaves me reeling, while the memory of my mother’s face as we talked in the aftermath, so smooth and emotionless, contrasts with the pain that starts in my stomach, like someone has taken razor blades to my insides.

She offered her advice in crisp tones while my father refused to meet my eye, his silence a deafening confirmation of his position on the whole thing. The memories of my own life unraveling cascade through me, inflating the pain and leaving the small scars on the insides of my thighs burning in a way that makes my fingers itch.

After she asked me to leave, I couldn’t get out of Philadelphia fast enough—a live-in position anywhere away from the city had been my only criteria. And that’s how I found myself in Harbor’s Edge, sitting in Ruby’s kitchen having my portrait sketched.

Ruby is looking at me expectantly; I’ve been silent for too long. She asked if I was ready to meet Granny Sloane, the woman who has no idea I’ve been hired by her family as a live-in nurse. Could be worse. I could still be in Philadelphia.

We lock eyes. “Yes, I’m ready.”