Page 82 of Finding Yesterday

“Are you kidding me? I took over a whole restaurantby myself. For two weeks. And yes, this was a big oversight, and maybe I deserve to be scolded. And I might even listen if you weren’t always standing there, high and mighty, looking down on me all the time—like you have no idea what it’s like to make mistakes.” I storm into the kitchen, and she follows me.

“I make mistakes,” she bites back. “But I alsolearnfrom them.”

“Seriously, Emma?” I whip my head around. I’ve had it. “You have a gorgeous voice, one that could’ve made you famous. And one day, you stopped because life got hard.” My cheeks on fire, I bark, “I may not learn from my mistakes, but at least I’m not a quitter.” I regret the words as soon as they escape my mouth.

She steps backward, her pale face going white. She gives me a look I’ve never seen from her before—like I’ve cleaved her in two.

“I’m sorry, Emma, I didn’t mean it.” My jaw trembles.

Tears pool in her eyes. “How dare you.”

“I’m sorry, I really am.” I take a step toward her. She steps away, but I continue, “It’s just, you’re not perfect either. Why can’t you just stop it,stopjudging me.”

“You don’t even know what I went through with all that, Claire.” Her nose flares. “If you only knew.”

“If I only knew what? What are you talking about?” I approach her again, but she continues to back up. My voice goes squeaky. “If I don’t know what you’ve been through, then you need to tell me!”

“I can’t talk to you right now.” She shakes her head, tears streaming down her face.

“Emma.” I grab her shoulder.

She jerks away as she turns. “I’m going to bed, with my child I had to put before my singing career, so don’t follow me because you’ll wake him up.” After she gets to the top of the stairs, she disappears into the darkness.

I head to my bedroom, diving on top of my bed, fully-clothed. I just can’t believe any of this. I’d been running a pretty tight ship at the restaurant—and I did it all broken-hearted. As much as I hate it, I’m desperately in love with Jack.

Winston jumps up and nudges my side. I’m sure he’s sick of being in this bed. I haven’t been around to give him as much attention as he needs. He’s growing so fast, and he takes up so much more room than he used to. Now his nudges almost knock me off the mattress. “All right, Winston, let’s go for a walk.”

I head outside with Winston on a leash. I fill my lungs with the warm summer air. The days are unbearably hot, but the nights are perfect, especially now with the light breeze on my skin. I’m devastated, not to mention exhausted from working myself to the bone for the last two weeks, but this gives me a bit of reprieve.

Winston and I walk under the moonlight, taking in the scent of freshly crushed grapes. Daddy, Uncle Ozzie, and Nate have all been working hard, making things happen, like always.

Why can’t I make things happen too? Why, when it was my turn, did I mess everything up?

I walk faster, tears streaming down my face as Winston and I head down a row of vines. Everything in my life collided like a perfect storm. I lost Jack. Pops. The restaurant. A bunch of my money from Tangz. And now my sister hates me because I finally said the unspeakable things—the things that have always hung in the air between us. That she stopped singing. The resentment I carry over her constant disapproval, especially after she quit something when she was so gifted. It’s the hypocrisy of hers that infuriates me.

But maybe it infuriates me because I’m a hypocrite too. I’m not getting my dream—I’m not going to have my own vegetarian restaurant in Blue Vine.

And I’ll never be on the inside of my family now.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

WELL, IT’S BEENquite a Fourth of July so far. We’re all together for dinner—me, Emma, Nate, Daddy, and Dylan—and Emma and I haven’t spoken a word. It’s better that way, since we both need time to cool off. I definitely don’t want to say anything more I’ll regret.

I’m trying out a new vegetarian lasagna recipe, but I don’t think my family is in the mood for experimenting, so I’ve made a meat lasagna as well. I was planning on getting their opinions since this could be a potential vegetarian option at The Fine Bone, but no longer. There’s a stab in my gut at another painful reminder that there is no Fine Bone right now, possibly ever.

The family plans to eat on Daddy’s patio, and although it’s a perfect day outside, there’s a storm raging inside me.

I’m running on autopilot, and I just want the day over with so I can crawl into bed. I have to muster the energy to get through the fireworks tonight for Dylan’s sake.

“Dylan, come and sit,” Emma calls out, but the kid isn’t listening. He’s off chasing a butterfly. I’d normally help coax him in, but I’m not up for it. He can do whatever he wants as far as I’m concerned.

Once we’re all seated except Dylan, who’s taking deliberate, inch-sized steps toward us, Daddy puts the veggie lasagna on the table. It has chunks of butternut squash in it.

Nate points to it. “Do I have to eat that, little sis? It looks weird.”

“Do whatever you want, Nate.” I shoot him a glare. “There’s a meat version.”

“Okay,” he says, an octave too high. He gets up and fetches the meat version before putting it on the table. After serving himself, he hands the dish to Daddy. Then without a word, Nate scoops a small amount of the veggie version and puts it on the corner of his plate. Even he knows better than to tease me now, apparently.

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