When We Are Enough (Valiant Hearts #1)

58. Emmy

Chapter 58

Emmy

T hree weeks have passed since Granny Sloane’s funeral, and the days have been a blur of grief and activity, Patrick insisted on getting back to work almost immediately. It helps him, being busy. But it’s not like before. There’s more balance. More time at home, more time together.

Today, I’m with Patrick and the Valiant Heart boys—Antonio, Jake, Mike, and even Liam and Ethan—everyone working to repaint the Tidal Tavern. It’s a cold but sunny afternoon, the kind of crisp day that makes you feel alive.

I meet Patrick’s eyes across the room, and my heart expands with love for him. He’s wearing his firefighter uniform, the navy blue of his T-shirt stretched across the broad of his chest, him looking impossibly handsome, the curl of his dark hair resting on his collar, paintbrush in hand.

He seems to be doing better today, joking around with the boys. His grief seems to come in waves, coiling and uncoiling, receding and then crashing down on him, but today there’s a steadiness in him, a genuine quality to his smile.

As we work, Blake walks across the tavern with a tray of drinks. She’s beautiful, the kind of beautiful that drags your attention and makes you stare, with bright red hair and a sassy demeanor to match.

She gives Patrick and Jake a drink and deposits the tray on the black circular table beside her, hands going to her hips.

“Hey, Patrick, you missed a spot!” She grins as she points to a barely noticeable smudge on the wall. “And I thought you were the perfectionist, the one who always got it right. Maybe you need me here supervising you?”

Patrick shakes his head. “I think I’ve got it covered. We all know that when you get involved, the odds increase tenfold that some kind of new disaster is going to take place.”

Blake turns her attention to me, shaking her head. She hands me a tall glass of iced tea, the condensation cool against my fingers. “How do you put up with him?” she asks jokingly.

“It’s a full-time job, but someone’s got to do it,” I reply, smiling back at her.

“You’re a brave woman, Emmy. We’re going to be great friends, I can tell.”

Warmth spreads through me at her words. I already like Blake. The sense of community here, the way people look out for each other, is something I’ve come to appreciate. I glance over at Patrick again, watching him return to work with his usual intensity. I love him so much, love seeing him lifting out of the fog of grief, surrounded by friends who care about him.

Blake asks if I want to get some fresh air, and I nod, Patrick meeting my eyes across the room, a smile on his face as he watches us. We go up the stairs to the roof terrace of the Tidal Tavern, the view over the marina spreading out before us.

The winter sun glistens on the water, creating a dazzling reflection that sparkles and dances with each ripple and wave, the sails of the boats bright white, tilting with the movement of the water. We choose seats on the edge of the roof terrace, the cold air invigorating as we sip our drinks and look out over the marina.

Blake shifts beside me and I glance across at her. “Looks like things with the boys are finally starting to settle down, huh?”

I smile at Blake, knowing that she’s talking about Patrick, Liam and Ethan. “Yeah, it does.”

Patrick and Liam have been getting along better than ever lately—I even saw them having a beer together on their mom’s porch after they finished replacing the carpet in her house last week. Seeing Patrick and Ethan find common ground, seeing Liam and Patrick bond—it’s like watching pieces of a fractured puzzle slowly come together.

Blake takes a sip of her drink, her eyes thoughtful. “You know, Emmy, even after everything this town has been through, I think it’s all going to be just fine.”

“I think you’re right.”

She leans against the railing, looking out at the harbor, the wind teasing the loose strands of hair around her face, her expression wistful.

“Hey, you okay?”

She blinks, a smile returning to her face. “Oh, yeah. Just lost in thought for a moment. Thinking about the way things were. How much everything has changed. Nothing ever stays the same. You know? Even if we don’t see it at the time, things are always shifting around us.”

I nod, feeling the truth of her words. The person I was when I arrived in Harbor’s Edge is not the person I am today. One thing I’ve realized is we’re always in motion, even when we feel stuck. The people we were yesterday aren’t quite the same as the people we are today, and tomorrow we’ll be different again.

And sometimes we have huge, life changing realizations that shift the very foundation of our lives.

We sit there, side by side, watching as the sun dips lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the marina. The world feels open, full of possibilities, and I’m hit with the sensation that we’re all heading toward something good .

The green of Blake’s eyes catch the last of the sunlight and she breaks the silence, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, her next question catching me off guard.

“Have you heard from the hospital yet? About your job?”

I smile, the news still fresh and thrilling, wondering how she knew I’d applied for a job here.

“Yes, I just heard this morning. They’ve offered me a full-time nursing position.”

Blake’s face lights up, and she pulls me into a tight hug that takes me by surprise for a few seconds, before filling me with warmth. “Congratulations! That’s fantastic news!”

I hug her back, not telling her my other news: I deferred the start date for six months. I’ll let Patrick be the one to tell his family and friends about our plans. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

We stand there on the roof terrace a moment longer. Despite the challenges and heartbreak and everything else that happened since I arrived here, I wouldn’t be anywhere else.

Blake and I head back downstairs to help clean up, and by the time we’re ready to go home, the sky is dark with the approach of evening. Patrick walks over to me, wiping his hands on a rag.

“Ready to leave, babe?”

“Yeah,” I reply, leaning into the kiss he plants on my lips.

I’m glad he’s coming home to rest after a long day instead of doing more work. He canceled all his fire safety consulting work and has been home for dinner every night since Granny Sloane died, while Nora has several plans in various stages to raise money for Joe Heart’s medical expenses.

We walk together to his car, and as soon as we’re inside, he rests his hand on my leg, possessive, thumb tracing circles on my inner thigh. The heat from his touch pulses through me, my skin on fire beneath my jeans and the weight of his hand.