Badly Done, Emma Lee

Chapter Twenty-three

Text from Alexandria Armistead:

Cash is leaving for Pigeon Forge tomorrow and I have a big old knot in my stomach. I know you said to let him have his boys only weekend, but something feels off.

Text from Tara Maxwell:

I am leaving for Ireland late next week. Aer Lingus Flight 122, Charleston to Chicago to Dublin. I was thinking about getting a pair of rain boots, but then I saw your Instagram post—the one you took of your wellies standing beside the front door of the cottage. What is prole drift?

Text from Bingley Nickerson:

I Googled Johnny Amor. Found his Insta. Blimey! He’s a gorgeous man. If I were a hen, I would go for Johnny bloody Amor.

Text from Roberta Hearst:

He said he wanted to Netflix and chill—six months later I am flat on my back, stuck on bed rest, with two abnormally active fetuses practicing power yoga up in my womb, 24/7. Knightley sounds gorgeous. Just promise me this: if he asks you back to his place to watch a movie and relax, run like a scalded haint.

Text from Madison Van Doren:

That Barton boy shoved my Agent Provocateur Kendall thong in his pocket and promised to hit me up before I left Charleston, but he has been ghosting me ever since. Why didn’t you warn me he was a major twat? On a more positive note, Cash’s big brother invited me back down to Charleston to go crabbing with him sometime.

Text from Kristen Carmichael:

Boo-yah! Guess who’s crushing the squat challenge?

To: Emma Lee Maxwell
From: Manderley de Maloret
Subj: Re: Things that make you go hmmm . . .

Are you asking if I think it is a coincidence or divine intervention that you and Knightley Nickerson are named after the main characters in Jane Austen’s Emma?

In the immortal words of M. Night Shyamalan, See what you have to ask yourself is what kind of person are you? Are you the kind that sees signs, that sees miracles? Or do you believe that people just get lucky? You know my answer to the coincidence question. There are no coincidences.

Why? Do you like Knightley Nickerson the way Emma Woodhouse liked her Mr. Knightley?

Love and miss you,