Building Bridges

Emma~

Unlike back home, I’ve been equipped with a capable army of others to help serve and prepare the menu due to be presented in a few days’ time. It’s all been going by far too quickly with only a week left to go, but the rush of feeling a deadline approaching makes me feel alive.

It gives me something to focus my energy on when not visiting the main house or tip-toeing around Orion after our argument last week.

I think it’s fair to say that after blowing our tops, we’re feeling like a pair of deflated balloons and neither of us is trying to set off the other in case of another explosion.

There was a close call when my plan with the gingerbread worked out perfectly, but rather than lose his mind when finding me ripping off the wallpaper, he silently picked up a scraper and helped me finish it off. It’s the closest we’ve been to each other all week.

A few of the people in the main house are due to come over today to help me paint and I’ve gotten closer to a group of the women when visiting more frequently.

Megan’s mother, Delilah, is only a few years older than me and while she’s quite shy, she’s easy to talk to and I feel something akin to friendship blooming between us. The same can be said for some of the other mothers, but not everyone I’ve found is a fan of my new status as Orion’s fiancée.

Little do they know that I’d happily hand him over if I could.

I’ve got a few treats on the countertop ready to amuse the kids while we get to work, and I’ve set out the pale green paint ready to cover the walls. It should go nicely with the plants that have started to arrive, and already I’m feeling more comfortable in this massive house.

I’d forgotten all about the housekeeper when I first started making my own changes, all of the servants lined up from my first night here have been making themselves scarce and I almost wonder if I imagined it when he’d first said that he had a butler.

Either way, I’ve managed to track the lady down and she’s been more than happy to help order a few bits and pieces, agreeing reluctantly (as if someone may hear over her shoulder) that the place could do with livening up a bit.

Since then a few of the people around here have been coming out of their shells more and I don’t know if it was my attitude or Orion’s warning that has been keeping them at arm’s length. It’s helped improve the feeling of being alone, that’s for sure.

I hear the various giggles and shouting long before the doorbell rings, and I walk up to it in a pair of old clothes that were stuffed into my room by what I assume to be Donovan. Unfortunately, he’s missed the mark this time, finding things far too big for me, so I have no issues if I end up covered in mess today, they’ll be for lounging around in anyway.

“Emma!” The kids shout and I open the door wide to let them all run inside.

Delilah greets me with a smile and as does Helena, Jessica, and Lily who are the others that I’ve invited. It’s strange to say that I’ve formed a little group for myself and even back home I didn’t really have that.

I wouldn’t jump the gun and consider these ladies as my friends, but it’s nice to have someone around here to call if I want company. Only, when they step through the door, do I immediately notice how well-dressed they all seem to be. I did warn them we’d be painting, right?

“I hope you don’t mind getting dirty!” I comment awkwardly. Did they forget?

“Yes, we’re ready to paint,” Delilah says happily, and I narrow my eyes. This doesn’t make any sense.

“Why are you all dressed so nicely then?” I question, not wanting to let it go.

They have blouses and skirts on... while I’m in joggers and an already badly stained T-shirt. If this is their scruffs, then I need to consider if what I have upstairs isn’t more suited to being wash rags.

Each of them appears to be either biting their lips or looking to the floor after my question, which only serves to confuse me further.

“Emma...” Lily starts, as if saying my name should be enough of an answer, but it isn’t.

“Lily...” I repeat, not trying to make her seem slow, but so that it’s clear I’m still not seeing what I’m missing here.

“If we came in anything other than our best, it would be a sign of disrespect towards you and Mr. Neville,” Helena bursts out as if she can’t stand the tension anymore, and the realization dawns on me.

Of course, I can’t even try to make friends without my stupid fiancé getting in the way. How can I ask them to paint with me and ruin all of their nice clothing?

“That’s not to say we don’t mind getting paint on ourselves,” Delilah rushes to jump in after reading my face, but I wave her off while walking them over to the kitchen.

“It’s fine, you can keep me company while I paint. That’s more than enough help... I’ve been going crazy locked up in this kitchen all day.” I smile to ease their discomfort and happily, that seems to work for them.

Without much more prompting a conversation is flowing between all five of us and without even asking, the kids are helping me anyway.

I’ll make a mental note to see if we can send over some new clothes for them in apology. I should have known better than to invite people over to help with chores like this. Being Orion’s fiancée is far harder than I thought it would be, and goodness knows I never thought it would be a picnic.

“Have you thought about what you’ll wear for the party?” Jessica asks me when pouring a cup of coffee out for each of us while I’m taking a break.

“Party? I thought it was just a meal. I’ve not given it much thought but there’ll be a dress upstairs somewhere. Donovan went a bit overboard when I first came here.” I laugh at the recollection.

“He’s not told you it’s for the party?” Delilah questions before stopping herself. Clearly, she’s on about Orion and doesn’t want to question his authority, but I’m glad that she feels comfortable enough to ask.

“No, what party is it anyway? We didn’t have many events back home.”

The next one would have been for the Fourth of July, and that isn’t for a good few months yet. I can’t wait for the sun to come out a bit more; this winter has been dragging its feet this year.

“It’s your Engagement Party,” is what I hear seconds before I drop my mug onto the floor.