The Davis Years (Indigo)

Jemma wasn’t ready for the train to stop, but it did anyway. She grabbed her bags and joined the line of people in the aisle who were making their way out of the car and onto the platform. She’d come home for the first time in six years, and hopefully the last.

The humidity weighed everything down, and she felt it the moment she stepped off the train. If air could sweat, it was doing so that day. She pulled her suitcase behind her, scanning the faces of the people on the platform. She wanted to surprise Emily Rose with her returxn, so she’d asked Mary to pick her up from the train station. She hadn’t been looking for her very long when Mary grabbed her.

Mary said, “It’s so good to have you home.”

She squeezed Mary’s shoulders. “It’s good to see you, too. It’s not permanent, though,” Jemma said, not wanting her to get her hopes up over something that wouldn’t happen. “I’m just here for the wedding, really.” She’d come home to see her best friend get married. Even accounting for the other thing she had to do, she’d be out of Derring in three weeks. Tops. If possible, she was leaving earlier than that.

Mary nodded. “I know that’s what you keep telling me.”

On the drive home, Mary chatted away about life in Derring for the past six years. Jemma was fine with that, as it didn’t require her to say much. She was lost in thought as they passed landmarks she hadn’t seen in years; they simultaneously seemed familiar and yet oddly distant.

Emily Rose and Jemma had found each other again over the internet. Whatever else had happened in the past six years, Emily Rose wouldn’t get married without her.

“I knew you’d come home to us,” Mary said as they pulled into her yard. Jemma stepped out of the car. Yellowed grass crunched under her brown flip-flops.

Jemma nodded, choosing not to remind her so soon that the situation was temporary. She walked to the trunk to grab her suitcase.

“No, girl, let me carry this for you. You had that long train ride and everything? You just go on in there.” Mary handed her the house key and shooed her away. She wondered what it would have been like to have Mary as a mother. She often wondered that.

Carrying only her shoulder bag and her purse, she walked up to the front door of Mary’s cozy house, which was more cottage than anything. The sky blue exterior paint had started to peel, but it still seemed cheerful somehow. After unlocking the door, she breathed in the familiar scent of cinnamon. Six years and nothing important about Mary’s home had changed.

She walked to the room Mary had let her use for those last few weeks before she ran away. A faint smile played on her lips as she crossed the threshold. Mary had transformed the space from her quilting room into a bedroom. There was a small white lamp on a white night stand. A beige comforter covered the bed. A white dresser and matching desk were against the wall opposite the door.

“I fixed it up for you. I knew you’d be back,” Mary said from behind her.

She walked farther into the room. “Oh, my goodness. Where did you find this? I don’t even remember taking this picture.” Jemma picked up a photo of herself, Mary, and Fred in their work uniforms. They’d all been cashiers at the Gas and Go, a small convenience store in “town”, if you could call any part of Derring County a town.

She felt a brief pain inside for that sad little girl with horrible split ends and the straight, skinny body. But she wasn’t that person anymore. She’d changed. She was sure of it.

Mary said, “Oh. That. You know that’s the only picture I have of you? I keep a copy in my room. On the dresser.”

“Does Fred still work there?” She traced the woman’s dark, weathered face in the photograph with her finger. Her full name was Alfrieda, but for some reason, everyone had always called her Fred. Mary still worked at the store. She’d told Jemma that on the drive to the house.

“Yeah. She still works the day shift.”

“Emily Rose come in much? Or Wendell?” She couldn’t bring herself to name the one she really wanted to ask about.

“Sometimes Emily Rose does when she’s home. Wendell moved away from here. He hardly ever comes back that I know of. I think he’s in D.C. now,” Mary said. “Well, I better try to get some sleep. I work tonight. You know you’re welcome to anything I have. That includes my car. If you go anywhere, make sure you’re back around eleven so I can get to work on time.”

Jemma nodded, taking the car keys. She forced a smile for Mary.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Okay. And thanks. For letting me stay here.”

Mary disappeared down the hall, calling over her shoulder, “You know you’re always welcome here.”

She’d told herself that the time she spent in South Carolina was supposed to change everything. Being back in Derring, smelling the air and seeing all the places she’d grown up in, made her think maybe she’d lied to herself. Maybe time wasn’t such a great healer after all.

She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the slip of paper out of her purse with Emily Rose’s number on it. She hadn’t put the number in her phone yet. She stared at the black ink on the white scrap of paper, thinking about how long it had been since she’d seen Emily Rose, not counting photos online. And thinking of how long it’d been since they’d talked—really talked, not just messaging each other online.

She wanted to see Emily Rose, so dialing the number shouldn’t have been so hard for her. Still, she had no idea what would happen when she dialed it. Six years was a long time, and she’d avoided the person who was supposed to be her best friend all of that time. It was wrong, she knew that now, but she’d needed to cut Derring out of her life in order to move on. Emily Rose hadn’t seemed angry when they’d talked online, but things might be different face-to-face.

But wasn’t that why she’d come home? To be there for Emily Rose on her wedding day? To make things right with her? With a heavy sigh, she dialed the number.

***

They met at the community center. Emily Rose was there doing a walk-through since that was where the reception would be and she was her own wedding planner. Jemma was halfway across the parking lot when she heard the squealing.

All she saw at first was a swirl of blonde hair against dark blue. “Jemma!” Emily Rose squeezed her close.

“Em Rose, you look great,” she said, pulling back from the hug a little. And she really did. Her blue shirt dress complemented her curvy figure.

She struck a pose and laughed. “My wedding dress is a size ten. Can you believe it? I’ve never owned anything in a ten. Oh, my goodness. Come on, why are you still standing there? You have to meet Michael’s mom. I have so much to tell you. I can’t believe I’m getting married in a little over a week. I wish I had time to get you a bridesmaid dress. You should’ve let me know you were coming.” She grabbed Jemma’s hand and headed across the parking lot.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” she said, allowing her friend to pull her into the community center.

Emily Rose introduced Jemma to Ms. Fletcher, Michael’s mother. She was a tall, slender, severe-looking woman with her brown hair swept into a bun and her pale lips drawn into a line. She didn’t look nearly as thrilled as Emily Rose about the wedding. Then again, she didn’t look like the type to get thrilled about much at all.

“Emily, dear, why don’t you and your friend catch up and we can talk later about the flowers? There’s a conference call I said I’d dial into if I had time,” Ms. Fletcher said.

“Sure,” Emily Rose said. When she was gone, something changed in Emily Rose’s face. “She’s really been riding me about every choice I’ve made. I don’t think she wanted it to be here. In Derring. I think she wanted it up in Manhattan. And sometimes, I don’t think she wanted me to be the bride, either.”

Before Jemma could respond, the storm cloud passed over Emily Rose’s face and was gone. “Well, she’s right about one thing. We have tons of catching up to do. I still can’t believe you’re really here.” They linked arms and headed out to their cars.

They went back to Emily Rose’s parents’ house for lunch. They were at work so Jemma didn’t get a chance to say hello to them. Michael was getting in that afternoon from New York. After lunch, Emily Rose was taking her along to the airport to get him. It had been a hard-fought battle with Ms. Fletcher to get that privilege, apparently.

“You should have let me know when your graduation was. I would have totally come.” Emily Rose gave her a small frown before taking a bite of her egg salad sandwich.

“It wasn’t really a big deal. I was just happy to get the diploma,” Jemma said with a shrug, leaving out how all she’d done was pick up the diploma from the registrar’s office. She hadn’t bothered with the ceremony at all. She hadn’t seen the point. She knew that would have horrified Emily Rose, who loved making a big deal out of such things. She and her aunt had gone out for a quiet dinner the day she picked up her diploma and that’d been the end of it.

Jemma had been all about business for six years. She’d gotten her GED after moving in with her aunt in South Carolina while working full time. She’d continued to work until she saved up enough money for college, attending a few classes at a community college when she could fit them into her schedule. Then she’d put herself through college in three years and gotten her degree in business with a concentration in marketing. Only school and work had mattered. If she stayed focused on her goals, it was easier to stay strong and forget the past. She didn’t pay attention to things like birthdays, holidays, or graduation celebrations. None of her friends in South Carolina had known when her birthday was. Having never been part of a normal family, she didn’t really miss such things.