“We met briefly at the homecoming party. Emma invited me to dinner to interrogate me about a career in event planning.”
Lucy laughs. “That sounds like Emma. She’s a resourceful one.”
“That’s exactly the word I used to describe Emma when I asked Stella to hire her as an intern.”
“What did Stella say?”
“She was thrilled. Emma is all set to work with me over her Christmas break.”
“Emma is hardworking and creative,” Lucy says. “She’ll make an excellent intern.”
Presley stares down at the angel ornament in her hands. She’s afraid to see Lucy’s reaction when she drops the bomb. “I need to tell you something, Lucy. I have reason to believe I’m your biological daughter, the child you gave up for adoption.”
The ornament Lucy is holding slips from her hands and crashes to the floor in a million pieces. “Why would you say something like that? I told you my story in confidence, and now you’re making up lies.” She scrambles to her feet and flees the storage room.
Presley runs after her. “Lucy, please! At least give me a chance to explain.” When they reach the wine shop, Presley corners Lucy behind the checkout counter. “I was adopted as a baby. I came to Hope Springs in search of my birth mother. I had reason to believe she—”
Lucy screams. “What do you want from me? If it’s money, I don’t have any.”
“I don’t know what I want, honestly, but it’s not money. I inherited plenty from my . . . from Renee. I guess maybe I’m looking for a certain kind of closure.”
“Well, I can’t give it to you.” Lucy comes from behind the counter, and with surprising force, she shoves Presley out of the way. By the time Presley catches her balance and exits the shop, Lucy is on the elevator and the doors are closing.
Presley considers taking the stairs to the main floor, but she decides not to go after her. This is not at all what she’d expected. Not what she’d hoped for. Lucy completely shut her down without even hearing her side of the story.
With tears blurring her vision, she returns to the storage closet and repacks the ornaments in the boxes. She’s stopped crying and has somewhat pulled herself together by the time she finishes the task an hour later. She’s finally ready to go home and is waiting for the elevator by the wine shop when she hears the muffled sound of crying. Looking around, she spots Jazz crouched down in the far corner of the cellar.
Hurrying over, she kneels down beside the child. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Jazz sobs, “I ran away from home. Stella’s not in her cottage. Can you find her for me?”
“Of course.” Presley sits down on the floor, pulling Jazz onto her lap as she removes her phone from her purse. The Wi-Fi reception can sometimes be spotty in the cellar, but the call goes through on the first try.
Stella answers on the third ring, sounding groggy as though just waking from a nap. “What’s up, Presley?”
“I’m in the wine cellar at the inn. Jazz is here looking for you. She says she ran away from home.”
“Damn it, Naomi,” Stella says to herself and then to Presley, “I’m at Jack’s. I can be there in ten minutes. Can you stay with her until I get there?”
“Of course. Jazz and I will wait right here.”
Presley drops her phone back into her bag and hugs Jazz tight. “I had a bad day too. Wanna talk about it?”
“No!” Jazz buries her head in Presley’s chest. “I just want Stella.”
Presley kisses her hair. “I know, sweet girl. She’ll be here in a few minutes.”
Rocking the child gently, she hums the tune that is never far from her mind these days. Presley is not the only one in need of someone to show her the way.
Stella arrives looking disheveled, sweatshirt on inside out, and short curls springing out from her head. It appears as though Presley interrupted Stella’s Saturday afternoon alone time with Jack. Good for her!
Stella takes Jazz from Presley. “Thank you, Presley. How did you find her?”
“I was in the storage closet going through boxes of Christmas decorations. I was getting ready to leave when I heard crying.”
“Wanna go to my cottage?” Stella asks Jazz who nods, her face planted in Stella’s neck.
The threesome rides together in the elevator to the first floor. Stella thanks Presley again when they part in reception. She retrieves her belongings from her office and leaves the inn.
Her heart breaks for Jazz as she walks back to her apartment. No telling what Naomi did to that sweet child to make her run away. Presley got mad at Renee . . . at her mother plenty of times, but her mother never made her angry enough to run away. Renee was a good mother, critical at times but supportive in Presley’s many endeavors. While Renee was not an affectionate person, Presley never doubted her mother’s love for her. Presley never felt unsafe in their home.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Presley. You have a good thing going in Hope Springs. Your job is challenging and rewarding. Your teammates are your family—Cecily and Stella and Katherine. You don’t need a new mother, and you don’t need a boyfriend. You only need you.
When she reaches Main Street, Presley places a call to Rita. “I told Lucy. She was definitely not overjoyed.”
Rita sighs into the phone. “Uh-oh. Tell me what happened.”
Presley gives her a blow-by-blow account of Lucy’s reaction.
“I’m not surprised. Lucy can be a wild card.”
Presley’s mouth falls open. “Now you tell me.”
“Don’t worry about it, Presley. This is typical behavior for Lucy. She flies off the handle but usually calms down quickly. Give her some time. Do you want me to talk to her?”
“Only if she comes to you first,” Presley says, and ends the call.
She usually calms down quickly. Except when a woman claims to be her biological daughter. Presley should never have listened to Rita. She blindsided Lucy. She doesn’t blame Lucy
