For Accio. She's ours; these characters are not.


Emmett propped the crossword puzzle message up against a picture frame on his desk. At different points throughout the following days, he found himself staring at the words, trying to decipher what they meant, and more appropriately, why he wasn't acting on it.

He'd had his choice of women when he lived in Boston, indiscriminately dating here and there, but never finding a woman that might be more than a passing thing. In the two years Emmett had been home, he'd been more conservative in his romantic pursuits. The small pool of women on Folly Beach he wasn't related to were like sisters, girls he'd grown up with. They might have pursued him in high school, or they might be little sisters of friends he'd hung out with. Each girl came with a distinct memory; braces, knobby knees, walls of bangs or bad dye jobs. After a few aborted attempts, Emmett gave up on the few local girls that held any appeal. Most of the women his age in Folly Beach were married anyway. The younger ones were off seeking their adventures in the world. Sure, there was always the older crowd, one of Esme's clients who would be happy to sink their talons into a fresh piece of meat, but Emmett avoided those women like the plague. He was not a play thing for some cougar, and found himself checking anyone of questionable age for that distinctive round vaccination. Mike had named the polio vaccination scar the cougar badge after a night spent tossing back beers and watching women come on to Emmett, and the name had stuck.

Last summer, Emmett had taken up with a girl from off, who'd rented a house at the north end of the island. He'd tried to treat it for what it was, a fling, no promise of anything longer than some fun. But by the end of summer, things had turned from frivolous to the hope for something more, and they both promised to try and make the long distance thing work. The girl went back to Baltimore, and within a month, she'd faded to nothing more than a vague memory. Long distance simply didn't work, especially not when Emmett had responsibilities here that prevented him from spending weekends in the cities he'd once fled. No, Emmett didn't need a stranger. He needed someone who lived here, who would stay here and help him live out this dream he'd built in the place he loved, maybe even growing to love the area as much as he did. It created a veritable impasse most women could never get by, not just the geographic undesirability, but the expectation too; Emmett wanted a partner, an equal, and he'd yet to meet someone that could fill that very tall order.

Until now.

Maybe that was why he didn't go to the diner the morning after he found the crossword puzzle he'd found under the wiper bade. If he'd asked for Mike's input, or called his old friend Jasper, he would have been told 'act now, think later.' Of course, Mike's inclination would have been to 'tap that ass,' where as Jasper would have been more laissez faire, encouraging him to just go with the flow, all while Alice squealed and demanded that her husband feed her details in the background. Either way, it didn't solve the fundamental problem.

Rosalie was a summer girl and he was a local boy. The equation did not compute.

"Someone ought to make a TV show about this shit," he chided himself. "Americana's version of Romeo and Juliet. Divided by latitude and attitude, not parents or clan rivalries."

Emmett fought his instincts for three days, all the while making up excuses to drive by the diner each morning. Her car was always there, candy apple red, shining like the toy he coveted but was afraid to ask for. The parking lot might has well have been the goddamn Mississippi River, knocking him off the top of the world while the girl waited on the other side.

On Saturday morning, Emmett didn't go surfing. Instead, he sat on the front porch of his comfortable little bungalow, a coffee mug cradled in his hands as he watched the sun rise slowly over the Atlantic Ocean. Gauzy pink clouds streaked the horizon, turning the sky salmon, then orange where the soft morning light refracted off the water. The clouds wouldn't be there forever, but they sure did make the morning a beautiful sight. Kind of like a girl hunched over a crossword puzzle, a pen clenched between her teeth.

It reminded him of all the encouragement from Esme, from Alice and Jasper, from his friends here and up north too. Stop looking for perfect, Emmett, live in the moment and trust where it will take you. You'll find you can find something perfect in the strangest places.

It was with that thought that he pulled on his Red Sox baseball cap, a holdover from his days in Boston, and climbed in the car. He couldn't stay away any longer. He wasn't sure what he expected to find; all he knew was that curiosity would kill him in the end. There was something beautiful and intriguing about his mystery woman and it might be fleeting, but he knew he didn't want to miss a chance at perfection if it really was out there. He'd already lost three days, if not more, trying to figure his shit out. It very well could be too late.

"Hey, Big Guy," Jessica called as the door to the dinner slammed shut behind him. "I missed seeing your silly mug around these parts. Sullivan's Island keeping you busy?"

Emmett glanced surreptitiously at the far corner, half hoping, but not expecting to see that familiar corona of corn silk hair ensconced in the far booth. Instead, an older couple occupied her booth, their bright beach attire garish against the classic red vinyl of the benches. His gaze immediately swept to the counter, where she had taken roost the last time he was here. No golden head. He shouldn't be surprised, her car hadn't been in the lot. It didn't quash the knot of disappointment that built in his chest.

She wasn't here.

"Yeah, Jess," Emmett said, sitting down on a stool at the U-bend of the counter, heavy with resignation. "What the hell was I thinking another shop smack dab in the middle of high season?"

"You always were an underachiever. The usual?"

Emmett glanced around the diner, taking one last look at the crowd. All these people had uprooted their lives for a few days of sun and adventure. They went outside the norm to experience something new, to live a little bit. Once upon a time he'd been like them, craving adventure and new experiences. He'd lost a bit of that along the way, along with his perspective on what he needed in life. Maybe that was his lesson in all this, to relax and take things easy, maybe even live a little. "You know what, Jess, no. I think I'm in the mood for something different today. You know what I like; surprise me."

Jessica nodded, pouring him a cup of coffee. "Change is good, Em. Change is most definitely good."

Before he could say anything in response, she'd moved on, leaving him alone with his rolled up copy of Business Week and a heart full of what felt perilously close to regret. He slowly spread out the magazine, bending the spine to force the pages to lay flat. It gave him somewhere to focus; if not he'd be staring at the far corner and wondering where she'd gone.

"I hope you aren't planning on killing flies with that," a soft voice called from behind him. "That rag is so boring, it would classify as cruel and unusual punishment."

Emmett looked up just as she plopped down on the open stool to his left. Rosalie's hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her cheeks rosy and the corners of her mouth curling up into an easy, affable smile. It had been impossible not to notice how pretty she was before, but today something was different. She seemed lighter, more carefree. The loose tendrils of blonde hair that framed her face made her appear younger and more relaxed.

She was absolutely glorious.

And then he noticed the small beads of perspiration that dotted her forehead, just below her hairline; the lightweight t-shirt, slightly damp with sweat. Emmett quickly glanced away, unnerved and oddly uncomfortable at her close proximity and the sudden difference in her appearance. Where was the put together woman he'd seen in weeks past, the one with the cold and indifferent exterior? He had prepared himself for that, not this…this…

She reached up, waving hi to Jess before pushing a strand of hair away from her face. It caused her t-shirt to ride up, revealing just the slightest hint of a tanned abdomen. Not only was she here, she was totally approachable, and when she caught him glancing at the sliver of exposed stomach, she smiled even bigger, and it threw him into a complete tailspin.

Emmett grabbed his coffee, burying his face in the cup to hide his cheeks, which were flaming red in embarrassment. He drank deeply, too focused on the woman sitting next to him to remember that his coffee would be hot. The liquid scalded Emmett's tongue and throat, and the pain caused him to choke and cough, tears welling in his eyes as his face grew even redder. The woman, Rosalie, reacted immediately, slamming him hard on the back with her flattened hand, as if trying to dislodge something stuck in his wind pipe.

"Easy there, tiger. Coffee is meant to be enjoyed, bad beer is meant to be shot-gunned," she cooed to him. Instead of calming him down, Emmett only coughed harder, completely disarmed by her attempt at levity. She seemed so normal, so open, and he had no clue what the hell to do.

"Hey, Emmett, you okay?' Jessica asked from across the counter. She quickly poured him a glass of water, and slid it down the long stretch of Formica. He caught it and took a long drink, his face burning from the lack of oxygen and utter humiliation.

He didn't realize until after he'd drained the glass of water and managed to catch his breath that the whacks on his back had subsided, replaced by slow even circles as Rosalie rubbed his back. That's when the panic started to build, an overwhelming sense of 'abort abort' bubbling to the surface. His reaction to this woman was too extreme and completely out of control. She would pull him under and then she'd be gone. He'd be left here, picking up the pieces as he watched his friends and family thrive and grow. It would make the empty space that much larger.

"Order up!" the short order cook called as he slid a brown bag through the prep window. Jessica quickly grabbed it and passed the bag across the counter to Emmett. "Lox and cream cheese on a bagel, lightly toasted, and some yogurt. Gotta keep you healthy, pretty boy."

He grabbed the bag and mumbled a hasty goodbye, high-tailing it out the door as quickly as he could. Emmett registered the woman speaking to him, but he plowed ahead, focused on the door and regaining control.

In his thirty-four years of life, no woman had ever sent Emmett into a panic or rendered him speechless. Yet here was this complete stranger, who fascinated him and beguiled him, and when she finally approached him, the one thing he'd wanted, he bolted like he had at age ten when Jasper's older sister Tanya had come out of the bathroom wrapped only in a towel.

It wasn't until after he was in the Defender, on the way to the shop, that the woman's words finally registered.

I loved lox. It's one of the hard things about moving away, you miss your friends, and you miss the food. Good thing I know I can get at least one of them here.

Emmett leaned his head against the steering wheel, his eyes closed as he played it over again. After the third time, he softly hit his head against the steering wheel. All his assumptions had been wrong, and he'd made such an ass of himself, how would he ever get her to take him seriously now?


Oh man, the poor guy. One step forward, two steps back.

Or maybe not. Lighstardust is keeping her lips zipped and so are we. See you tomorrow!