Page 42 of Ten Christmases Without You
That meant that he hadn’t had contact with her in quite a long time.
Then, his cryptic message came into focus. Why would her mom be better at answering Emmy’s questions than he would? Why did he need her mom’s okay to say how he knew her? Her mind was abuzz with speculation. Had something happened involving her mother? Anne Brewer would never get caught up in any drama.
She immediately fired off another email:
Dear Mitchell,
Thank you so much for getting back to me. With your busy schedule, I’m honored that you took the time. I wish I could ask my mother, but she died of cancer over a decade ago. I’m here, in New York. I’d like to have a cup of coffee or something and learn how you knew her.
All the best,
Emmy
Her mind still whirring, she took her mother’s drawings out of the envelope and studied them to see if she’d missed any clues. Her mom had left these drawings at Baudelaire’s, in Paris—they’d been shipped back with the dress. Why hadn’t she brought her designs home with her? Had she simply discarded them, or was there something more?
What haven’t you told us, Mom?
“Shouldwe see if Dad knows anything about this Mitchell Augustine?” Madison asked, her concerned face on the screen of their video chat later that evening.
“I did. He doesn’t seem to know,” Emmy replied. “Remember Dad said Mom didn’t really talk about her younger days? She told him there wasn’t much to say. Why is that? Did something happen?”
“No idea.” Madison shook her head. “It’s Mom we’re talking about. She didn’t have a conspiratorial bone in her body. What would she possibly keep from Dad?”
They both sat in thought opposite one another on the screen.
She dared not ask her dad. Not until she had more information. But how could she gain any knowledge about the situation? The only person who could answer anything for certain was her mom.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE CHRISTMAS WEDDING
December 13, 2017
Emmy’s family had decided to celebrate Christmas early this year, so Emmy flew in from New York and Madison from Richmond. They met at Nashville International Airport, rented a car, and drove home to celebrate the holiday early before heading to Adrienne McLoughlin’s wedding in a couple of days.
After hugs all around, Emmy and Madison took their bags upstairs.
“The benefit of Dad not being able to sell the house yet is it’s super clean all the time,” Madison said, dropping a folded pile of sweaters onto the floor next to the air mattress.
After the craziness of this year, Emmy was quietly relieved that she had the house to return to. Unable to find another job, she worked as a barista at The Big Cup, a coffee shop, during the day and waited tables at the popular Maringa restaurant at night. Nothing about her life felt normal except coming home to this house.
“True, but I wonder if we’ll be forced to keep it spotless while we’re here in case someone calls to see it,” Emmy said.
Madison made a face. “Good thing Jack’s not here this year to mess it up. He couldn’t get off work.” She zipped up her suitcase and slid it against the wall. “Uncle Stephen will take care of ransacking the place, I’m sure.”
Emmy laughed.
Once they’d unloaded, Madison stopped Emmy as she went to leave the room.
“Before we go downstairs, I wanted to ask you... Did you see anything from Paris Fashion Week this past October?”
Odd question. Her sister never knew anything about the fashion scene. Why would she care now? “No, why?”
“I wanted to wait until we were settled before I brought it up. In the airport, on the way here, I was searching for that guy—Mitchell Augustine—because I wanted to ask you more about him, and when I did, a news article came up that mentioned Harlow and Ash. Doesn’t he own that company?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“I couldn’t remember those drawings of Mom’s perfectly, but could you look at this?”
