Something to Talk About (Plum Orchard #2)

“Point is, Jax asked you because he likes you. He’s clearly interested in you. Why is that so hard to believe?”


“Because big, rugged, beautiful men like Jax Hawthorne don’t like girls like Em, right?” Marybell quipped, making her way down the stairs, Clifton’s jacket in hand. “That’s plain nonsense, and you know it. I don’t know how you see you, but you trust me when I tell you, we don’t see you in the same light. And by the way, he knows me, too. We’ve had some very nice chats in the break room at Call Girls. Not only is he so hot I think I burned myself on just his fingertips when he passed me the ketchup, but he’s funny, too. So funny. And can that man eat. Finished a whole pizza all by himself on pizza night. Which means his other appetites are probably just as big.” She fanned herself with a chuckle.

Em blushed more at the stab of jealousy she felt over the ease with which Marybell must have conversed with Jax than the implication his appetite was as big as he was. Why was it so hard for her to loosen up and just be Em?

Maybe because lately she wondered if simply being Em wasn’t enough. It hadn’t been enough for Clifton.

“So why didn’t he ask me to help choose colors for Maizy’s surprise bedroom reveal? If we go by your standards, he knows me better than y’all.” Marybell pondered, settling into a puffy beige chair by the window seat Em had created late one long DIY marathon night.

“Or me?” LaDawn called from the kitchen where she was gathering wet wipes for Gareth. She sauntered out into Em’s small living room, dropping the bag on the couch. “I had a nice cup o’ coffee with your heart’s desire just the other day, and he sure wasn’t askin’ me to be his companionator in color coordination. Know why? Because he doesn’t like me or us the way he likes you. I’ve seen the way he’s been lookin’ at you, Em. Like he’d sop you up with a biscuit.” She waved a finger at her, tucking the wet wipes into her oversize purse. “I know men. He likes what he sees when he sees you.”

“Clifton liked what he saw, too. Now he’s off liking something else he’s seen.” Sometimes, the insecurity she fought so hard to overcome, overcame, and it blurted out of her mouth, weak and whiny. Which was why she probably overcompensated at work. To show she was strong. Tougher ’n nails.

Dixie pulled Em’s hand into hers. “Oh, honey, you can’t base everything that happens from here on out on your experiences with Clifton. He didn’t trust you enough to tell you his struggles. That has nothing to do with how perfect or imperfect you are. That’s a Clifton problem.”

Pulling her purse over her shoulder, she shook her head. She’d told herself that over and over. It wasn’t her, it was him. But what was it about the woman he’d left her for that had inspired his confessions? What had she had that Em didn’t?

She didn’t love Clifton anymore. Of that she was sure. In hindsight, she realized they’d been drifting apart long before his big revelation. Yet, she’d lost most of her respect for him when he’d all but abandoned the boys just because he wanted to wear dresses. He didn’t have the courage to tell them the truth. Instead, he’d left the truth tellin’ to Em. While Clifton went off and enjoyed his new life, she dealt with the day-to-day fallout.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone so soon after Clifton. I have too much upheaval in my life right now. The boys, the dog, the house, Clifton, my mother. I think I need to figure out who Em is and what she wants before I go figurin’ out another man. Who wants to do all that work anyway? Men are work.”

Marybell’s head tilted to the right, her lip ring catching the soft rays of the new, overhead track lighting Em had just installed. “Nobody encourages that more than we do. You should definitely find out who Em is. While you’re there, could you also find out if she’s going to be the stern teacher all the time or if this is just transitional while you assert your newfound independence. Just so we’re forewarned.”

LaDawn’s lips pursed as she pulled on her faux fur vest. “So all that talk about makin’ the business is off the table for you now Em ’n’ M? We don’t have to worry you’re gonna look for lust on Craigslist? Because we worry, you know. You’re not yourself these days, and I won’t have you makin’ a rash decision, or bein’ talked into something you don’t want to really do.”

Who was herself? She’d decided that was the quest she was on. To find out who she was.

Em giggled, reaching out to hug LaDawn. She dropped a wet kiss on her friend’s cheek, warmed by her concern. “No Craigslist. No one-night stands. Thanks for taking the boys tonight, girls. Promise I won’t be late.”