Meet Emily

By Laura Albright

When Emily Parker returns to her hometown after several years, she’s reminded of the rolling hills and captivating quiet, the fond memories of growing up and one lost love. Years of relationships falling short behind her, she’s finally happy on her own. So why when she makes the turn into her hometown does she think of that one boy, that one relationship that only lasted the span of a summer but stayed on her mind over the years? Why have all other relationships paled in comparison?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laura Albright
• Release date: Apr 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9780985700539

Laura Albright

Laura Albright, a California native and graduate of California State University Sacramento lives in northern California with her husband and son. Call Me Emily is the first in a four-book series: Emily Calls It, Emily’s Calling and Meet Emily.Visit Laura's blog at http://laura-albright.com/

Book preview

Return to the Valley

Summer 1996

Something rose in me as I spotted the familiar road sign indicating Two Rivers at a quarter of a mile. It was a strange combination of angst, excitement and an uncanny sense of returning home. I somehow expected everything to look different, feel different, but it didn’t. I was different, older, evolved, but not here. The v was still missing in Two Rivers and the paint was almost chipped away, but it was in the same spot it occupied when I’d left years before. I wondered how so much change could happen to me while this corner of the world stood untouched.

When I lived here, Madonna was huge. Almost all the girls had mushroom-like bobbed hair and a set of lace gloves. Guys wore tee shirts with Corona Extra plastered across the front and rarely tied their shoes. Time had passed, styles had evolved, but the landscape…not even a glimmer of change.

How long had it been since I drove this road? Years…and during that time I’d left Two Rivers, my friends, family and so much more. I’d graduated from college and set up a life for myself. I was an entirely different person now. Two Rivers, however, seemed to have stayed exactly the same. I forced my attention back to the road in front of me. My car glided over the occasional patches of new pavement here and there, but the road hadn’t been treated to the well-deserved overhaul it needed. I listened for something–anything. It was quiet, even with the windows rolled down. I heard faint evidence of cows and horses from time to time, the whoosh of air in and through my car, but I was most aware that I didn’t hear or see any other cars.

I never intended to stay away so long, but life had led me in another direction, and I embraced its lead. I’d made it through college, had many friends, relationships, and a terrific job. The old adage is true: you never lose friends just gain new ones. I’d relocated with the fear that leaving a wonderful guy and my friends behind would be the death of me. But I’d survived while keeping in touch with my old friends and making new ones along the way. The relationship had ended though. Colin moved on to another woman, one who was perfect for him I’d heard. I too had moved on, but none of those guys ever got beyond the first couple of dates. I’d never be sorry though. The northern California office treated me well and I had a flourishing career; one I’d always wanted. But now here I was, back in this provincial town, my hometown. While I didn’t think of it as necessarily returning home when I’d stepped into my car this morning, every sight, sound, smell and familiar turn of the road reminded me it was indeed my home.

The invitation came about a month ago. My former teacher, Ellie, was retiring, and she and her husband were moving across the country. She and I stayed in contact over the years, breaking the unspoken rule that every student calls former teachers Mr. or Mrs., but never by their first name. Ellie and I became true friends when I worked in her classroom as a teenager. She was full of advice and understanding during a time when I sorely needed both. When I received the invitation, I was excited. I wanted to go. I couldn’t wait to see Ellie, to catch up. But it never occurred to me to wonder who else might be there. My mind continued to wander while I drove.

Was this place always this lush and full of life? The hills surrounding Two Rivers were covered with oak trees and green fields, and the valley was a patchwork of rice fields, vineyards, pastures, and pear orchards. How much had I forgotten? Seven years wasn’t that much time, but somehow my memories were few.

As I drove, I started to recall who had lived down this road and that driveway. More memories came to mind. The Millers lived in that farmhouse and there’s the McGillicutty vineyard. I used to work with Shayla in that orchard; fell off my bike and sprained my wrist over there. I unconsciously rubbed my arm. Then there was the time I got caught speeding down that road. I shook my head and smiled. Like I’d do that now. I don’t think so.

The wind whipped my hair and the recently forgotten scents of the valley returned and tickled my nose. I giggled at the thoughts and memories. It was as if my senses were coming alive again. Where had they been? I turned the corner in a familiar approach, one I knew was there but today it had slipped my mind. Palmer Road. The lighthearted laughter diminished and I felt as if a warm blanket lay over me. Something clicked, and I could remember everything. I felt everything. It was as if a thousand pieces of time flooded me. I heard his voice, felt his touch, and saw his face.

Christian.

TWO

The Introduction

June 1989

It was the end of my senior year. All my plans were in place and life was about to get interesting. It had to. I wouldn’t be stuck anymore in tiny Two Rivers.

Only a couple weeks of high school were left and I couldn’t have been more detached. I woke up, not thrilled at all that it was a weekday. I took a shower and towel-dried my short, uneventful, brown hair. Seconds in the hot air of the blow dryer and it was styled as good as it was going to get. I lined my eyes lightly in a dark shade of blue and smoothed sunscreen over my freckled cheeks. Mint flavored Chapstick, and I was done.

In the early summer of 1989 styles were interesting. I, on the other hand, preferred a classic, elegant look; jeans, flip-flops and a light blue tee shirt that my friends said made my blue eyes stand out. OK, maybe not classic or elegant, comfortable.

My first class was English. I’d passed the final last week and now we were divided into writing groups. It was something Mrs. Macy did every year with the seniors as a wind-down project. Trigonometry was next; loads of fun. Not really, but a necessary evil to get into any California university. My third period of the day was spent as a kindergarten student assistant, something I’d done for two years now. It counted as credit and it was easy. Besides, I secretly loved all the little kids. The elementary school was just a short walk from the high school campus. Actually, the schools were on the same property but we high-schoolers didn’t like to think of it that way.

After about forty minutes of cutting out shapes and pasting them together, I scooted the last kid out to recess and turned back to the classroom to organize their next task. Mrs. Swanson, or Ellie, as I called her when the children weren’t around, followed the kids out and nodded at Maria and me as she passed. Maria, a professional, teacher’s assistant was across the room. She took a few steps and joined me, shoving the last of the chairs into place.

So when do you leave for Los Angeles? she asked.

Not until September, I answered with a sigh, feeling every second of how long of a summer it would be.

Maria picked up on my tone. You know, you’ll be on the fast-track to success in no time. Enjoy the time you have left here. Two Rivers is one in a million, she said with enough force behind each word that I think she actually meant it.

Yeah, I guess you’re right, I said, still not really on board with loving my summer stuck at home.

I glanced at the clock. Well, I should head back. So I’ll see you tomorrow?

Uh huh, she said almost as if she had something else to say. I paused, waiting for more, then forgot about it. Off to my remaining classes I went. Maria had become a good friend during the year we worked together in the classroom. She was warm, kind and full of information about relationships and other life lessons. She greeted me every day with a smile that showed little lines around her eyes. Something she hated but I thought was cute. Maria always wore her black hair pulled into a ponytail with a scrunchie holding it in place. She said she was too old to wear shorts, something I thought was ridiculous, but she loved a nice skirt to the knee. She was fun, but in a different way than my other friends.

Maria, her husband, and three children had moved to Two Rivers a couple of years ago. They settled into the school system quickly. I hadn’t spent a lot of time with them as a family, but the time I did spend was great fun.

***

Homework loomed, but I stayed later at tennis practice than usual. My friends and I took turns driving to and from school, and I was riding home with Shayla this particular evening. We talked about the usual boy happenings, friends and the latest college acceptance letters. My plans were already set, so I enjoyed hearing Shayla’s latest news. It was San Francisco State for her and she couldn’t wait.

Shayla talked my ear off as she drove, her blond, curly hair whipping around her shoulders. She chattered and I listened, always marveling at her energy level. We made it home in record time, which could’ve been her driving or the conversation, I don’t know. The roads in our small town tended to be winding, narrow, and full of potholes. Taking your mind off the ride was usually impossible. But today with the smell of the last daffodils, the hint of summer heat in the air, and the talk of college, I forgot about the bumpy ride.

I walked through our front door and ran directly for the shower, passing and ignoring my little brother Hunter in the hall. I’m sure he was up to some kind of no good even though he was on restriction–that was the norm for most sixth grade boys. The shower was welcoming after a long practice in the late-spring heat. I combed my hair and left it wet, pulling on a cotton jersey tee shirt dress. It was meant to wear as a dress, but so plain I often wore it as a nightshirt. I sat cross legged on my bed and blew through my trigonometry homework like it was nothing. That’s the great thing about those last months of your senior year: they wind down as preparations for graduation start, and homework is easier.

Finishing up, I decided to toss my book bag in my car, one less thing to do in the morning. I walked into my flip flops, and headed for my car with the bag. It was almost dark and warm, a combination I loved. It brought the scent of warm hay and oak trees. I took a breath in and let the week go as I exhaled and tossed the bag into the car. My heavy shoulders and eyelids reminded me that I’d been up since 5:30. I slammed the car door and headed back toward the house, but before I reached the gate, I saw headlights making a path in the dim evening light. I turned to look, fairly confident that I’d know who it was. Almost everyone that passed by was a familiar face. Then I paused longer with my hand on the gate; the vehicle was turning in. I shielded my eyes as the headlights swept across the front of our house and landed on the driveway as the van came to a stop.

The lights shut off and I strained to adjust my vision. I recognized the deep blue of Maria’s van as soon as I could see again. I wasn’t expecting her, and I clearly wasn’t dressed for company, but it didn’t occur to me to be uncomfortable. I walked over to the passenger’s side, where the window was rolled down; thinking one of Maria’s kids was probably with her. I always enjoyed saying hello. But I was surprised to see someone I didn’t recognize. Maria immediately spoke up.

Emily, this is Alan’s son, Christian. He extended his hand, shaking mine with a warm smile.

Christian, meet Emily. She sat back and gestured toward me as if she was Vanna White. The smirk from earlier in the day now returned. I wanted to shoot her a look, but I politely took his hand and smiled back at him. He held my gaze saying all the usual hellos, but with more refinement then I would’ve expected from someone my age. Wait a minute. He was my age and he was cute. His dark brown hair was messed a little and went quite nicely with his tan. His eyes were dark like his hair and he was staring straight at me. Maria looked on, pleased with herself. She said they were making a quick run to the market before it closed and decided to stop by. It wasn’t like her to stop by, but other people did around here; maybe she was just catching on.

We chatted for a minute longer then I let them go to finish their errand. When I stepped back into the house, I wondered why I didn’t know she had a stepson…and furthermore a stepson who was clearly so close to my age. I shrugged, and returned to dinner preparations.

***

The next day was a typical Friday at school. I went from class to class and tried to conjure up something fun for the weekend. That’s the thing about small towns–there isn’t much to do. My friends and I planned to get together to watch a movie, but other than that, I had no concrete plans.

It was third period again and I found myself headed to the kindergarten classroom. I knew the children would be in show-and-tell mode with Ellie, but Maria was usually helping with lesson plans or working on other projects while the teacher organized the kids. I wondered why she’d made it a point to stop by last night. Other than to introduce me to Christian, she clearly had no other reason. Yes, she owed me an explanation about the guy in the front seat; a stepson she had so conveniently forgotten to mention before.

As I’d guessed, the children were seated in a circle to one side of the classroom taking turns sharing. Hands shot up and giggles emerged. It was cute. I spotted Maria. She looked up and smiled before turning to tend to the little boy behind her with his shirt on backwards and a nose in serious need of tissue. Maria gave his nose a wipe and his back a pat before directing him toward the other children. I laughed to myself. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen Maria help with the little ones. They were all still trying to learn backwards, forwards, left and right.

I moved in her general direction, waiting for Maria to give me an opening. She looked up, wearing a guilty smile.

So, what was last night about? I asked.

Last night? She tried to appear clueless. Nice try. I set my hand on my hip. Well, I wanted you to meet Christian. She placed a hand on her hip mimicking me.

Interesting. I put my fingertips together waiting for her to continue.

Christian’s here visiting for a couple of weeks, and it would be great if you could hang out with him. Show him the town or something? Or just come by and say hello. Maybe tonight? She paused for just a second, probably didn’t want to appear too eager. Then she went on. He doesn’t know anyone here and I think you two would have a lot in common. She looked down, straightening the chairs again, glancing outside. I knew she was waiting for an answer.

Sure, I’ll come by tonight. I made it sound