all along there was some invisible string

“No, no, quite the opposite, actually,” she said, as she placed another mug of coffee in front of Emerald. A quick glance at the laptop, the open binder, and the stack of magazines, that covered the whole table, gave her a general idea how busy her friend was right now. She hoped her short distraction would be a welcome one. “If anything, you look very focused. But if you need any distraction, I’ll be happy to keep you from work. I’m really good at that, if I may say so myself.” With a little flourish, as well as a big grin, she sat down next to her friend. They might have only known a short time, having stumbled across each other right at Humboldt Bay Coffee Company, but Alessia couldn’t imagine a better person to have an impromptu coffee date with.

“Wow, that is quite a beautiful flower arrangement,” she mentioned, pointing towards a picture on the table. “It looks like an impossibility right now, but should I ever get married, I’ll definitely hire you.” 

Emmie beamed, sunshine overflowing at the sight of her friend. And with an extra mug of the good stuff, no less. She was still fairly new in town, sure. But with friends like Alessia... where could she go wrong? “It’s like... I’m absolutely zoned in and completely zoned out. The coffee is working overtime, but there’s still so much to do. Starting a business.... I’m out of my depth!” She grabbed the fresh mug, and brought the hot coffee to her lips, swallowed and sighed. “Fuck me, that’s good. Much better than English roasts, I’ll tell you that. We’ve got tea, but America... you’ve got coffee.” She grinned. “Your distraction is exemplary my sweet friend. You’re welcome to drag me away whenever you see fit!”

“Thank you, babes! Flowers are such a specific touch, I think. I’m trying to work out a deal with a florist in town so that we can strike up a partnership.” She grinned. “Oh, I would love that! Now I’m just going to have to work my matchmaking skills on you.”

⌘

Talia had the day off, and so she got a slow start, sleeping in, then treating herself with an actual chai latte, which was not something she could make for herself at home. Not a chai latte with foamed milk, at least. The calendar might claim it was spring, but the lingering chill in the air meant that for Talia, it was still the season for warm drinks and comfy boots. 

Cradling the warm mug between her palms, Talia couldn’t exactly doom scroll through her phone, which was, in all honesty, probably for the best. Staring around at the other patrons, however, might not’ve been the wisest alternative, particularly when she noticed her neighbor’s table seemed to be wedding central, a reminder of the wedding she didn’t want to be attending in a few short months. “I—What? No, I just—” Caught staring, Talia was at a loss for words. “You haven’t spilled any coffee, no. I just— the, uh, magazines. Caught my eye.”

Early spring was tinged with the frost of a colder time. Emmie realized she was a little bit out of her depth. When she decided she was moving to California, for various reasons; to flee London, to escape her disastrous engagement and subsequent breakup, to find a former friend, to find herself... she hadn’t thought heavily about climate. Up here, along the coast, things were embedded with a certain chill. Still, the warmth of the coffee shop was much appreciated.

She listened to the words, and looked down, taking a moment before a giggle escaped from her lips. High pitched and slightly warbly in nature, it cascaded. “Ah yes! The inspiration you get in these things cannot be understated. Weddings are such a delicate art. And I aim to make them as perfect as can be!” She thought, for one fleeting moment, to her own failed engagement, and the smile on her lips dipped for just a beat. But then she shrugged off the past, blinking it away. “That’s what I do. Plan, plan, plan. Kind of amazing to get paid to pull of miracles.”

The one thing about not having an official office was coffee shops and cafes were like a second home. A holy space, in Emmy’s eyes. Humboldt Bay Coffee Company was becoming a church, of sorts. She started to crave their espresso at random times during the day... which was convenient, given her continued stay, tucked into a corner seat, surrounded by mugs and binders and wedding magazines. 

Emmie will be attending the Lover’s Ball at the Eureka Yacht Club with her friend, @zev-greenbaum

-

“Right back at you on both counts. Emerald’s really unique,” she told the woman with a bashful smile before taking a sip of her own drink. “Really? I’m trying to figure out what I like and this isn’t half bad honestly. Doesn’t taste too much like alcohol, which I realize is counterproductive. What are you having?”

“I think my mother was in a gem phase when I was born. She was all obsessed with jewels and crystals, and Emerald was the chosen one! When I was little, I thought it was rather kitschy, but now... I feel like it suits me.” She grins, with a resolute nod. “No, but I get that! Nobody wants to be drinking straight up nail polish remover. I’ve got an elevated gin & tonic, basically. Something a little more fruity, a little more glitzy.”

-

Zev could count the amount of people who truly knew him on one hand, and he’d still have some fingers to spare. He had always been close with his sister, but that was because Raissa hadn’t ever given him a choice otherwise. Which, similarly, was how Emerald had come into his life. She’d been his best cheerleader, a number 1 confidant, particularly when his family was across the Atlantic and on the other side of the United States still. She’d been everything to Zev when he hadn’t had a lot in terms of his personal life. “— you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I’ll fly over there and kick his ass. Name the day.” And it was obvious from the offer and the offerer, Zev was serious. 

“— And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for you. That, uh, that that happened to you.” Sentimentality wasn’t his strong suit by any means, but he tried when it mattered most. And in such a vulnerable moment, he understood the importance of delicacy. “The tallest one is Dahlia. She’s, uh. Well, she’s going to be a Bat Mitzvah, soon. Rabbi’s kind of a douche here, so we’ll see if he can actually pull it off. Marigold’s, the uh, medium sized one here. She’s a horse girl. And the little one is Zinnia. I don’t really know what she does.” While it might not appear that Zev was weary with affection for the Miller girls, Emmie would be able to read right through him. “Girls, go and grab a table, I’ll be right there.” He was brandishing his wallet then, prepared to pay for what the girls had ordered, certain it was a smorgasbord of hot chocolates and pastries, all of which Zev would neglect to mention to Naomi. 

“My treat.” Zev insisted, his hand slipping from hers to perch at her lower back, a gentle bit of pressure encouraging her forward to the register. “Unless it’s um, shit. A pinkity drinkity? Dahlia tricked me with that a few months ago. I hate children.”

Emerald was outgoing, almost by default. She loved meeting people, finding the pieces and parts of people that shined. She championed so many people in her life, put them on pedestals, higher up than her. Sometimes, she felt small, in the shadow of the others she loved. But Zev, somehow, was different. When she met Zev, and saw his potential, she found him special. But he saw something in her... and though he was gruff and sullen and stubborn; he was kind. He was sweet and loving, simply in his own ways. Emerald had never felt seen the way that Zev saw her. She never felt heard and understood and appreciated, not really, compared to the man, standing in front of her once again.

“Me too. What a silly thing, for a wedding planner to break off her own engagement.” It was said with such sincerity, more melancholy than she normally showed. She could have almost laughed at his threat. But laughing would make her too sad. She tried so hard not to hold pity for herself, but the whole thing got her down. So instead, she listened to him talk about the girls. “Their flower names are absolutely lovely.” He didn’t have to say much, but she could tell that for whatever reason, Zev had a fondness for the three little ones who scampered off. And the thought of that almost bowled Emmie over. For a man of few words, he had compassion pouring out of him. You just needed to be close enough to look for it. 

She felt a lump in her throat when he placed a hand on her back. For one, she had almost forgotten what intimacy felt like, and the touch, so simple and innocent, felt like fire. And then, it was Zev. Someone who felt so much like home, even after becoming strangers. “A pink drink, darling. And as much as the color matches me so well, I’ll just have a tea. I’m missing England something fierce, but it feels a bit sweeter having you here.” She smiled, sweetly. “You know my order, anyhow.”

Mei didn’t drink. For a number of reasons, but mainly because she’d never seen the appeal. She’d watched drink and drugs nearly destroy Rafe’s career, seen people falling about on the sidewalk after too much tequila, heard of the horror stories of the after parties. It was just another reason why she’d been such a great match with James. When she’d asked for a mocktail as opposed to a glass of wine on their first date, he’d never asked, never questioned, never judged. That had rather carried on. Which was not to say she judged people choosing to drink either, which was how she’d ended up in Arts and Drafts, simply there to pick up her takeout order during a busy Happy Hour. She was more than content to simply sit and wait, nursing a small ginger beer and flicking through her phone absentmindedly when a chair was being swivelled and there was a loud, brash voice suddenly in her ear. British too. That alone was enough to catch her attention. “Hello” she echoed, slightly wide eyed by the woman’s sheer force of energy. “Er, yes, happy new year to you as well. To a-” she paused, uncertain as to what to say. It wasn’t that Mei was a nun, she’d just…never been a big swearer. It felt foreign on her tongue, but it did feel required. “A fabulous, fucking year”. And then she gently clinked her ginger beer against the woman’s glass

Emmy sucked in a slight breath as the other came into focus. It wasn’t every day you casually sat next to an Olympian. In fairness, Emerald had grown up with a great deal of love for watching athletics, and the Olympics were the culmination of the best and the brightest. Ice skating was, in her opinion, the most beautiful form of sport, and sitting here was the personification of grace, Mei Watson. Clinking her glass, and the like. It made Emerald smile even wider, if that were at all possible. “Thank you, darling!” She took a sip, attempting to calm even the slightest nerves. Emmie could do famous people... she had spent an entire year after her failed engagement traipsing around London, gallivanting with entertainers and influencers; the height of luxury and all that. But that didn’t hold a candle to an athlete. Especially having been so close to someone like Zev, she knew the toll it took on someone. She had nothing but admiration for the woman sitting next to her. She just didn’t know how to articulate it. "I don’t mean to overwhelm you, and I’ll absolutely shut right up if you ask me to. But I just think I’ll burst if I don’t tell you that I think you’re absolutely fabulous and that I am in awe of your ability as a skater. Like... holy shit! A knockout, you are.”

Task 004: Emerald Jones’ Spotify Wrapped 2021

“Someones optimistic..” Vaughn exhaled a laugh as he turned to face the pretty brunette beside him, his hands occupying a large pint glass. “You got some plans for this year then? To be honest, I don’t believe in all that new years resolution bullshit. I decided to change my life years ago.. I don’t need to do no more.”

“Well, I could either see life as a glass half empty, or a glass half full, eh?” She grinned, strong in her convictions. “I’ve spent enough time fretting. If what I want out of life is the better option, I’ll be damned if I don’t get it.” She chuckled, nursing her drink. “I think I’m constantly creating resolutions, I suppose. Doesn’t have to be a new year thing. I’m like a butterfly, always in metamorphosis. Always evolving.” She giggled, another sip. “But maybe this year, I’d like to build up my job and then figure out a time to fall in love. That’s what I’m in the business of, of course. Celebrating love. Think it might be nice to find it on my own.”

-

Unlike the obviously very outgoing stranger sitting next to her, Romy was very much on the shy side. She froze almost completely at the girl’s exuberance, her mouth hanging open slightly. “Hm, hi, Emerald,” she said quietly with a small, awkward wave. She lifted her own drink, a gin & tonic. She was still on the search for an alcoholic beverage that she didn’t find disgusting and this one might actually be a win. “I can do that. Oh, and I’m Romy.” 

Emmie grinned, as she swirled her glass in her manicured hand. The ice clinked, and she could feel herself settling in. “Lovely to meet you, Romy. I quite like that name.” she paused to take a sip. “Gin and tonic, eh? Reminds me of home. England’s greatest drink, I should say. Carried through my twenties, gin and tonics.”

Oakley sat at the bar, lost in his thoughts as he gently tapped the side of his glass with the tips of his fingers. A small smile tugged on his lips as the stranger beside him spoke to him, tearing him out of his thoughts. As they proposed their toast to the new year, he had to laugh. Not to be rude, but because he was delighted at how well this year had been going for him so far, especially with how hard the last year was. Oakley didn’t believe in fate but if it were real, it was finally being kind to him. For this first time in years he felt like himself again, and he reunited with the love of his life, Feyre. “Absolutely!” He chuckled softly as he raised his drink with the stranger, lightly clinking their glasses together. “I’m Oakley, it’s nice to meet you.” He gave the other a small smile. 

It was a kid, or at least it looked like a kid. But then Emerald supposed that it would be a bit of an issue.. a kid at the bar. What with the American drinking age, and all. He had a sweet face, though. And a lovely laugh, which only made Emerald grin wider. She was used to laughter, possibly directed her way. She didn’t take it in offense... rather shifted her perspective to pride. She tried to bring light wherever she went... and most of the time she succeeded. “Lovely to meet’cha, Oakley. Are you a Eureka native? Don’t know if you can tell by the clunky accent, but I’m new, and I’d love any and all intel.”

“Hello back, stranger,” Alessia smiled. As surprised as she had been to be suddenly talked to in a crowded bar, she was glad for it, too, because she had apparently been stood up. No date, or blind date, rather, since it was one of her colleagues’ friends who was supposed to meet her there, was that late, that was just not done. Screw it, she thought and turned towards the attractive woman, who sat next to her at the bar. “You know what, Emerald - and that’s a freaking fabulous name, by the way - you just might have made my night. Hear, hear.” With a gentle tap of her cocktail glass to hers, she added, “It can only get better from here.”

“Thank you, babes! I can thank my mother for that one.” She grinned, eyes crinkling. They clinked their glasses and Emerald took a sip, sighing as she swallowed it down. She really loved the sharp taste of gin, herbaceous and bright as it was. She surveyed the stranger, trying to put the pieces together. Why was this beautiful woman all alone, and how could Emerald have possibly made anything better? “Oh, so help me god, if you tell me you were stood up, I will quite literally have to find the idiot and....”, she was all bark, no bite. “Give them a stern talking to, I reckon.”

It was a new year and a new start and a new town. And so Emerald Jones sat at the bar at Arts & Drafts, drumming her nails on the counter. Some gin drink, adorned with grapefruit and rosemary sat in front of her, and she swiveled her chair to the stranger next to her. Emmie wasn’t shy, and she knew the only way to meet people was to speak and see if anything stuck to the wall. “Hello stranger! My name is Emerald, and I’d love to propose a toast to a fabulous fucking year ahead!”

-

“No, you definitely followed me. Fucking creep.” Zev replied hotly, though the crook of a fought-off smile insisted he was teasing her. Frankly, the inner-joy he felt at seeing her in the flesh was nearly overwhelming — and Zev was not the sort of man who generally felt joy, and certainly not in recent days. “Bring that absolute douche of a fiancé with you? Husband now, I guess. Unless you came to your senses?” Zev made the remarks knowing he wouldn’t get himself in trouble, because he’d long made his opinion of Lyle known. But, knowing Emmie, she’d have tracked Zev down had she actually tied the knot. They might have lost touch, but not enough to forego something so significant in her life. 

“Would you like to join us? The girls are shit company and Marigold is having a horse phase, but we can be those assholes who pulls a fifth chair to a four-top.” He glanced back at the girls to catch their glower at his insult, though they were well enough trained at that juncture to know that was as much a term of endearment as he’d ever offer them. “— So no Lyle, then. Good.” Zev concluded simply, standing in stride with Emmie as they were directed towards the bakery counter. His hand slipped into hers in the most natural of ways, fingers closing over hers in a supportive squeeze.

“It’s really fucking good to see you, you know?” It was as much an admission of affection as he’d ever express, but it carried fervor behind it. “Although, I hate to break it to you, Eureka’s a shithole.” 

She pouted, her eyebrows all scrunched up, as she smacked his arm, with practiced dexterity. But of course, in a flash, the pout dissolved into giggles. “Stalked you all the way to America? Checks out.” And her smile was genuine, because for the first time in what felt like forever, she was seeing the one person in her life that she always wanted around. But the smile gave way to something else, something sad and sentimental and even maybe a little bit angry. “If the wedding went through, you would have been there. You would have made it, and you would have been my best man, and you would have stopped me from making the stupidest decision of my life.” A single tear, in the most dramatic fashion, rolled down her dolled up cheek. “You remember my coworker, Alyssa? Well, they were acquainted for 2 years of our relationship, and the entire engagement. I... why he would propose at that rate... a fucking joke. I was a fucking joke.” 

She paused, rattled. He had always hated Lyle. He had always tried to make her end it, Zev had. Because when it came to someone like Zev, Emerald glowed like the gem she was. But with Lyle? Her shine receded, and she was dulled out. And Zev tried to make that clear, but she was whisked away in the romance of it all, so she stuck it out and saw it through. And now she was here. She sniffled a bit, but nodded, helplessly. She would love nothing more. She smiled over at the girls, a sparkle in her eye. And when his hand covered hers, she sucked in a breath. Just like old times.

She was sad, and still picking up the pieces, but for the first time in a long time, she really smiled. A megawatt, toothy grin. Because she was miles away from England, but wherever Zev was... well that felt plently like home.

​

Zev had never been the type to form meaningful connections. He had his sister, his nephew, his brother-in-law if you really wanted to stretch it, but beyond that, there hadn’t ever been anyone that he’d ever really let in. It was his way, had never been his style. In fact, any personal details he ever gave to Raissa were typically pulled like a rotten tooth. Not even in his marriage had he been forthcoming, but that wasn’t something Shirah had ever expected. In fact, in true British fashion, she’d expected him to keep a stiff upper-lip and soldier on. The one and only time he’d ever confessed a sentiment in one direction or another, it’d spelled the end of their marriage.

But then there had been Emmie — unexpected and unwelcome. She had weaseled her way into his heart, and was, for many years, the only person he really cared about. Life in London before his marriage had been lonely, and she was reluctantly welcome company, despite his tepid nature. Zev had grown to love her with great affection, his very dearest friend. That deep connection had fizzled when he met Shirah and, in the midst of fatherhood and a divorce… He had lost track of her. 

The last thing he had ever anticipated was to be ambushed by her in the local coffee shop of his hometown, a world away from where he had last truly known her. He had been waiting for the girls to order their hot cocoas and pastries (mostly to buy some time and get them to shut up) when a pair of arms closed around him in quick fashion, the familiar shrill of his name from those lips filling his head. For a split second he almost behaved as excited as he felt, but he refrained, as well-trained and tempered as ever. “What the fuck?” He posed incredulously, to the chagrin of young Zinnia, who looked up at him with a glower. ‘That’s five bucks in the swear jar.’ A swear jar that had become quite lucrative for the Miller girls since Zev had become their nanny. “Yeah, whatever. Just — order your thing.” He waved her off, taking a moment to fully take in Emerald’s presence, a certain sight for sore eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Zev Greenbaum and his stupid, scruffy beard. Zev Greenbaum and his deadpan expressions. Her most cherished friend and confidant. For one fleeting moment, she almost lost her mind. Of course... the only reason Eureka, California even sounded remotely familiar in the first place was because Zev was from here. There was a piece of her heart, under lock and key, reserved for every little detail about him. She hadn’t opened up that part of her in a while... not since things unceremoniously faded, as time tended to set in between the former friends. But here in this coffee shop, in America of all places, she felt her smile begin to soften. Her best friend, back in front of her, once again.

She felt a bit foolish, for one fraction of a minute. There was this kind of ache inside of her, this pitter-patter in her chest. There was so much that had happened... so much he didn’t know. There was a time in her life where he was the only one who knew everything. He didn’t know how it all came undone. How when he went off and got married... everything in her life fell apart. Lyle... that son of a bitch. Lyle Franks ruined her, and Zev wasn’t around, and Emerald Jones finally cracked. She was going to have to tell him, surely. But she didn’t want to let it all out like a loose cannon. There was a time and place for these things.

The familiar sound of a curse was far more comforting than any show of excitement. This was how he was, and she loved him all the more for it. She giggled at the quip of the young girl - she was going to have to ask him what in the world he was doing with three kids, who couldn’t be his, but that would have to wait. She had questions to answer, first and foremost. “So... I moved here. Which, I now realize it looks like I followed you. But to be honest, I had no idea you ... I mean, I last saw you in London. I just needed a change. I found this on a google search, if you can believe it.” She paused. It was actually quite believable, all things considered. “Lyle and I... we..” her smile fell, if even for a moment. “I needed something new.”

The minute she heard the horns, she smiled to herself. She walked down the street, knee high heeled boots in step with the rhythm of the drums; a clipped pace, but nothing hurried. “If you should ever leave me...” she whistled the rest of the measure. The sky was a particular shade of blue, the sun peeked though cumulous clouds, and something about this felt like a flash of fate, Emmie thought. A glorious day, a glorious song. What could be better than this? “God only knows what I’d be without you.” 

Local coffee shops were paramount to her whole operation. She was a freelance planner, at least, for the moment, and so establishing a presence in this town was her first step. And working out of her new flat, sans internet, wouldn’t work for the moment. But Emerald Jones didn’t mind one bit. She popped on a beret, perched ever so slightly, and shoved her laptop in a bag and walked out the door. It was the perfect day, with a coffee shop in view, and her favorite Beach Boys song in her ears, and for the first moment since leaving London behind, she felt a sigh of relief escape her. 

She managed to open the door to the shop, though her arms were crowded with two binders, one planner, and one journal, extra special for her manifestations. She nearly made it to a table in the corner, soon to become her makeshift office, when she caught sight of a face she would never ever forget. His frame, once so startlingly familiar, surrounded by 3 young girls. She could have died right there. Something like a shriek left her lips, followed by a shout of “Zev!”, and in just about one second, her binders, planner, everything was on the floor, her arms wrapped around him in a tight hug, just like the old days.