Hummingbird Lane by Brown, Carolyn (good books to read for beginners TXT) 📕

“It’s got an upstairs loft where I can paint, and we want to sell your paintings, too, and I want to bring in Josh’s work, and Arty’s and Filly’s. We are only going to sell Texas art, and we’ll promote and advertise, and . . .” She stopped to catch a breath.

“Are you kiddin’ me? For real, your own place to sell your work?” Emma was glad she was sitting on the floor. “And you really want to display my little paintings?”

“You promised Leo six paintings, but after that, I want you to sign with us exclusively,” Sophie told her. “I can’t expect Arty and Filly to give me an exclusive since they’ve been working with Leo so long, but I sure want your things. We’ll drive up there once a month to pick up whatever y’all will let us have, and that way I can have a visit with you. Or you can bring it down here to me and spend a few days in our house.”

Emma shook her head even though she was aware that Sophie couldn’t see her. “And what would I drive? I don’t have a vehicle anymore, and unless your lawyer can figure out a way to get Mother to unfreeze my accounts, it will be a long time before I have one again.”

“Honey, pretty soon you will be able to buy any type of car you want,” Sophie said. “Leo knows paintings, and those two you sent with him are going to sell high, believe me. Then when we open this place in the fall, you’ll be raking in the money.”

Sophie was a lot more confident than Emma could ever be. She wouldn’t let herself think in terms like that. She just hoped that she could make enough money that she would never have to leave Hummingbird Lane, and that Josh would rent the trailer to her on a permanent basis.

“Are you still there?” Sophie asked.

“I’m here, but I think I must be having a dream. This can’t all be real. My heart is thumping around in my chest like a bass drum,” Emma said. “To think that only a little while ago I was trying to figure out what exactly I was repressing and how to remember so I could stop going to institutions.”

“Stick with me, my friend, and there might be more on the way,” Sophie said.

“Can I tell the rest of the family?” Emma asked.

“Of course, and ask Filly to tell you even more about jumping the broom,” Sophie said. “Em, I’m so happy and so excited that I think I’m the one having the dream.”

“We have to have a cake and wine, and . . .”

“Nothing big or fancy,” Sophie laughed.

“And a dress,” Emma finished.

“We’ll talk about all that when I get home,” Sophie said. “Right now, they’re calling us to board the plane. See you later.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And if you’ve got a hotline to heaven, pray that this fear that I’m rushing into this will go away.”

“You got my prayers, my positive thoughts, and love. See you later.” Emma held the phone in her hands for a few minutes before she stood up and put it back on the base. When she and Sophie were little girls, neither of them liked to say goodbye, so they just said see you later.

“Hey! You ready for supper?” Josh’s voice floated through the open back door.

“Be right there.” She slipped on a pair of flip-flops and went out the front door.

Josh met her halfway across the lawn. They fell into step together, and her hand brushed against his. A strange feeling wrapped itself around her at just that simple gesture. Was that what Sophie had been talking about in college, one of the last times they had met for ice cream? She had said that there were sparks or vibes between her and her newest boyfriend, some substitute professor. Emma stole a few glances at Josh. He was handsome, and kind, and funny, and she was comfortable with him, but what they had was friendship—not unlike what she had with Filly and Arty.

Did touching Arty’s hand when he passed the biscuits at the supper table ever give you a little jolt? Sophie’s voice was in her head.

Of course not! Emma pushed the crazy thought aside.

“I’ve got news from Sophie,” she said when she took her seat across the table from Josh and Filly.

“Arty, hurry up and say grace,” Filly said. “And make it a short one, because I want to hear what Sophie said. It must be good news, since Emma looks like she’s about to dance a jig.”

Arty bowed his head and said, “Lord, thank you for this food. Amen.” Then he looked over at Filly. “That short enough?”

“It’ll do.” Filly nodded. “Now pass the potpie, and, Em, you start talking.”

Emma wasn’t sure where to begin, but the most important thing in her mind was Sophie’s happiness, so she said, “Teddy and Sophie want to have a commitment ceremony right here in the park on July Fourth, and they want to know more about how to jump the broom, so, Filly, what can you tell me that you haven’t already?”

“Are you serious? That’s fantastic,” Josh said.

Emma almost reached across the table and laid her hand on his. Just that thought shocked her. She hadn’t even wanted to be in the presence of a man after the rape. She could tolerate her father, though he’d never visited to test that point. She wondered if him not coming to see her was due to something her mother had said—or threatened.

Good God, you aren’t a child, girl. You can have friends, both male and female. Sophie scolded her in her thoughts.

“Well, now, that’s good news, but this is a long way from anywhere for the guests,” Arty said.

“Don’t be a killjoy,” Filly fussed. “Folks have cars. We can have an early evening ceremony and hang twinkle lights in this tree. I’ll make the cake, and we’ll