Wednesday's Word: Whisk. An Excerpt from Small Town Shenanigans

 

Welcome to Wednesdays where I share a snippet from one of my stories using the previous day's word from the New York Times' game, WORDLE. Yesterday's WORDLE was WHISK. 

This is an excerpt from the second book in my Small Town series, currently on pre-order on Amazon.

In Kindle Unlimited

When Emma came down for breakfast, her eyes were puffy and red.

“Ems? What’s wrong?”

She dropped into a chair at the table and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“It’s not Gordon, is it?”

“No.” She paused. “Well, sort of.”

I bounced away from my Raisin Bran. I loved Gordon almost as much as I loved Bailey. I couldn’t imagine my life without him, but my allegiance would always belong to Emma. Still…I took another look at my sister’s face, and my heart went out to her. However much I loved Gordon, she loved him a hundred times more. Unless…no. There couldn’t be someone else, could there?

I padded to the fridge and pulled out some milk, eggs, and butter. “This calls for French toast.”

“Do we have syrup?” Emma asked with a hint of life in her tone.

“Are you kidding me? The Haywoods have the best of the best.” I got out a jug. “This is the real stuff.”

Interest flashed in Emma’s eyes. “What do you think of Dallas?”

“He’s awesome. And his family…they’re so great.” I found a shallow bowl and cracked three eggs into it.

“If he lived in New York, would you date him?”

I found a whisk in the utensil drawer and flashed Emma a glance over my shoulder. “But he doesn’t live in New York. He lives here.”

“This is a pretty amazing place.” She made this sound like it was a bad thing. “I didn’t want to like it, but it’s beautiful.” Her gaze went out the window to the distant foothills.

“It’s summer,” I told her. “Just wait a few weeks until it starts raining.”

“They have good schools.”

“New York has good schools.”

“Not in the city.”

“Connecticut has some of the best schools in the nation.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Emma said, “but we don’t live in Connecticut.”

Were we arguing? I hadn’t thought so. I whipped some milk into the eggs and watched a froth form.

“Have you heard from Reagan?” Emma asked.

“He’s tried calling a few times, but—”

“You haven’t answered,” Emma predicted.

I got a loaf of bread from the fridge and selected a few slices.

“Let me guess,” Emma said, “when he calls, it just makes you mad.”

“We’re supposed to be taking a break.” I dunked the bread into my egg mixture without looking at her.

“When you love someone, you don’t need a break.”

Then why are you here while Gordon’s in New York? I wanted to ask.

“I think there’s a song about that by the Bee Gees.”

“The Bee Gees!” Emma sputtered over her orange juice.

“Yeah. You remember. Grandma used to love them. She was always dancing to the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack.”

Emma cracked a smile. “Staying alive…” She hummed. “What song are you talking about?”

“’ Everybody needs a little time away’,” I sang. After selecting a cast-iron pan and placing it on the stove, I cut a dab of butter and dropped it into the pan. Seconds later, it was sizzling.

Emma squealed.

I looked over at her.

“This place is too good to be true!” Emma placed her hand on her heart as if she needed to keep it from beating out of her chest. “Tommy Franklin is here!”

“Here?” I pointed at the floor with my spatula.

Emma met my gaze. “In Cascadia! He’s here for the contest. Do you think we can meet him? Can you arrange it somehow with Harvey?”

I dunked a slice of bread into the egg mixture and put it in the pan. “I doubt Harvey had anything to do—”

Emma interrupted me by making a slash through the air with her hand. “I bet he has everything to do with Tommy being here.” She bolted from the room.

I was having a hard time following my sister’s rollercoaster emotions. “Where are you going?”

“To shower,” she called over her shoulder. “If I’m going to meet Tommy Franklin, I’m going to look fabulous.”

I waited until I heard the shower running before I called Gordon.

He answered on the first ring.

I flipped over the French toast. It was a perfect golden color, but without my sister, it seemed beyond the point. “What’s up with Emma?” I asked without waiting for him to say hello.

Gordon took a deep breath. “What has she told you?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, until she tells you something, I can’t say anything.” He ended the call.

I huffed and decided I would eat both pieces of French toast because until Emma came clean, she didn’t deserve one.