Page 1 of Beautiful Harmony

CHAPTER1

Emma Richardson didn’t recommend being ugly in a small town.

Not that she had a lot of choice in the matter.

Despite how often she told herself it wasn’t true, that a birthmark wasn’t ugly or beautiful, that a birthmark was just that - a mark, it rarely helped.

She repeated her “it’s just a mark” mantra to herself after every double take from townies and tourists alike, after every innocent comment from a child and thoughtless comment from an adult, after every deliberately cruel taunt.

It didn’t matter.

Every time she looked in the mirror and saw the purplish red blotch that covered the left side of her face from her temple to her collarbone, the word ugly echoed in her head like the ringing of a bell in hell’s most damned circle.

It’s just a mark.

“You know, I heard that there’s things to be done nowadays for port wine birthmarks like yours.” Mrs. Walters peered at Emma, six balls of teal yarn clamped against her chest with one arthritic hand and a cane in the other hand. “Lasers and such.”

Emma’s smile didn’t slip. After years of practice, it rarely did. “That’s a pretty yarn you have, Mrs. Walters. What are you making?”

“Oh, a lapghan for Arthur. His feet get so cold now, what with the diabetes. And with winter coming, he’ll need a little something extra to stop them from turning black and dyin’. That’s a thing, you know, with the diabetes.”

“I’ve heard that,” Emma said as she took the yarn from Mrs. Walters. She carried it toward the counter, Mrs. Walters’ rhythmic cane thump following her.

“His toes could just wither up and die, the doctor said. And that’s the last damn thing I need. Why, I do almost everything for Arthur now. I can’t carry him on my back, too, can I?” Mrs. Walters said.

“No, ma’am.” Emma stepped behind the counter and set the yarn on the squeaky clean glass countertop.

“Emma, do you have more of the Scheepjes Catona yarn in amethyst in stock?” Meredith, another regular, swept into the store in a blast of cool air and the determined look of a human on a mission.

“Yes, two balls left in the cotton section,” Emma said.

“Thank God,” Meredith muttered before rushing past Mrs. Walters.

“She’s always in a hurry,” Mrs. Walters said. “She needs to slow down before she gives herself a stroke.”

“They,” Emma said. “You know Meredith is non-binary, Mrs. Walters.”

Mrs. Walters waved her hand in the air. “Yes, yes. It’s tough for an old woman like me to remember pronouns, you know. I can barely remember to brush my hair some mornings.”

This morning was definitely a forget to brush her hair morning, but Emma stayed prudently silent as she rang up Mrs. Walters’ yarn. The old woman was one of her best customers, and while Emma’s yarn shop, Twisted Stitches, was having a record year in sales, a successful small business owner learned quickly not to rock the boat with loyal customers.

“Your new girl ain’t half bad. Don’t seem to know a lot about yarn, though.” Mrs. Walters rooted through her suitcase-sized purse for her wallet.

“Nora’s learned a lot since she started,” Emma said. “She’s doing very well.”

“That bright blue hair of hers is something.” Mrs. Walters slapped her wallet down on the table. “Can you get my card out? My fingers are some bad today.”

Emma took Mrs. Walters’ card and helped her run it through the machine before bagging the yarn. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Walters. Have a wonderful day.”

“I’ll try. Hard to do that when you got a husband who’s useless and a busted tap in the kitchen.”

Emma put Mrs. Walters’ card back in her wallet and her wallet back in her purse before she handed her the bag of yarn. “Did you call Rayna?”

Rayna was Emma’s best friend and a plumber for a local company, Sneaky Leaks Plumbing Services.

“Ayuh, I did. She’ll be over later this afternoon to replace the tap, she said.” Mrs. Walters squinted at her. “You still got the knitting group tomorrow night?”

“Yes, but it’s the learn-to-knit group, not the knit social,” Emma said.

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