Emma knew everything. Of course she didshe wasnt in her twenties, let alone a teenager.
She was tired of being alone, of dragging that heavy cart of solitude.
Lucy, why is it always me? Whats wrong with me? Am I a bore? Do I smell, or am I just clingy? Or maybe Im not giving enough love and tenderness.
Whats wrong with me? she muttered.
Everyone around hertall, short, thin, stout, drunk, pretty, plainseemed to have someone. Everyone. And she? Nothing.
Why am I alone?
Listen, Emmadont laugh, but my gran used to speak of a thing, Im not sure how to call itthe Crown of Spinsterhood.
No seriously, Emma waved it off, are we living in the Middle Ages?
Dont believe me? Lucy sprang from her chair. My thirdcousin once had that crown taken off by the crone.
What crone? Emma asked, flatly, just to keep the talk going.
Anyway, Ill ring Nanny nowshes my sister, the one who helped that crone take off the crown. Ill find out everything.
After ten minutes Lucy scribbled something on a napkin, chewing the tip of her tongue.
Right, thanks, Nanny. Hows it going? Getting married again? What about Glen? Oh, she kicked him out, never mindIll be there.
Lucy hung up, pausing.
Something happened?
What?
Nothingactually, yes. I need a wedding present again; my sisters getting marriedher fifth time. Looks like that crone finally managed to lift the crown. Heres the address. You coming?
Emma shrugged.
She drove out, but the crone, after a roundabout turn, sent her back emptyhanded.
You dont have any crown.
How could that be? I
What? You keep picking the wrong men? The first one dumped you with a child on his doorstep, swore hed marry you, but he was already wed.
Didnt you know? Thought it was something else?
Its all on you, love. Hes a scoundrel, disappeared into the hedges. No point in chasing him.
Why?
You dont need to know; hes not the one.
The second one isnt either? Emma smirked.
The crone agreesno, the third isnt either.
The third? I have no one.
There wont be.
So when will *my* man appear? Will he ever come?
Hell show up when you stop looking. Hell be yours, but not entirely yours. A girl cant control everything, but trust him. Hes reliable; youll find your own happiness with him. Maybe youll even have him all to yourselfjust be patient, dont rush.
Now go. Tell your friend she should see a doctor, give her some herbs, and drop by the gynaecologist. Tell her the crone asked me to pass the message.
That conversation had taken place years ago.
Desperate for feminine bliss, Emma visited the cronean old healer. Everything the crone said came true.
She met the third man, but the crones words faded from memory. He was good, treated her daughter well, yet something always seemed to slip away; theyd disappear without a word, as if fleeing forever.
Later Emma met James. At first she didnt realise he was the one.
The flat next door had been empty for years. When Emma moved in with her daughter, a neighbour, Aunt Katie, told her the landlord was a nightshift man who only came by to stay with his mother.
One day Emma, curious, peeked through the slightly ajar door and saw a man putting up wallpaper. She slipped out quietlyobviously the owner had returned.
They first bumped into each other in the hallway a week later. The doors in their building were oddly designed: if one was open, the other wouldnt budge, forcing you to close the first before opening the second.
Emma hurried to work, tried to open the door and couldnt. The neighbour apologized, shut his flat, and Emma heard quick, light footsteps.
Later she blocked his exit, then they met again on the landing, where the neighbour let Emma be the first to open the door.
One day James helped Christina lift her bike; Emma baked some pasties and took them to him.
In the park they discovered James had a son about Christinas age; the kids hit it off and raced on the swings while Emma and James chatted merrily.
Six months on, he asked her out, introduced her to his family, and they began living together. Before moving in, James told his story.
EmmaIm not a twentyyearold lad or a brute. Im a grown man with my own opinions and temperament. I promise if you live with me I wont cheat, Ill do the hard work, Ill earn, I dont drink or smoke. No nasty habits. Ill respect you, value youEmma, forgive me, I cant love you the way I should, Ive tried.
No, Im not a stone. I do have feelings for you, just not the ones you expect. I cant give you what you want.
Do you need someone like me? My wife used to call me a wretched idol.
Thats why Im spilling all this, so you dont think Im just playing the hero.
Back then I fell for a girlshe was warm, made me feel alive.
It never worked. She saw me as a friend, I tried to push her from my heart for years, failed.
There were women prettier, smarter, but none fit.
Should you have spoken to her? Emma asked, voice strained.
I told her I loved her, more than life. She was with her husband, I just asked to be heard. She said shed always been a friend, even a brother to me.
She listened, then asked why I left Inna.
Im honestI dont love her.
So what? she shrugged. Shes goodlooking, smart, cheerful. You dont love her, she loves you, whats the problem?
I realised then she was the one Id been chasing, the one Id never truly loved. She nudged me like a kitten, showing she didnt love me. I couldnt live with someone I didnt love, yet I forced her to stay.
Eventually I married.
No, EmmaI didnt stalk like a mummy, I lived, laughed, like everyone else. But the moment I thought of the woman I truly love, love feels like a curse to me. I feel shattered, unable to give a woman happiness. Women hear with their ears; I wont lie.
I just want you to decide whether you can live without dramatic highs. My wife couldnt.
Think about it.
Emma thought, then a week later met his large, jovial family. They welcomed her and her daughter warmly.
She feared being seen as a replacement, or being pitied, but everything went smoothly.
She never regretted marrying James; he was dependable, sorting all her troubles. She tried not to dwell on passion; life was good.
Only a few times a year would she catch her husbands wandering glance, as if remembering someone else. It never harmed their marriage.
Again, that glance appeared.
Was it hurtful? Honestly, she placed her hand on her heartany woman dreams a man might change for her. Emma, too, didnt marry out of love at first, but grew to love the solid, perfect husband she had.
That cloudy look lingeredJames didnt love her, she thought.
Emma? James called.
Emma was washing windows on a bright spring day, the sun scorching the panes. She sang softly while James entered the room, admiring her.
He felt free, like hed finally met his true love, just to see her again. Then, suddenly, he wanted to go home.
Whats up, James? Something happen?
Nothing, he said, stepping to the windowsill, spinning a little dance.
Everythings fine, Emmayou have no idea how good it feels.
He kissed her, finally realizing how much she meant to him.
Emma thought, The old crone wasnt lying. She said I just needed to wait.
Good morning, dear ones! May your love, if still unfound, flutter to your window. And if its already with you, cherish it. Sending you warm hugs, beams of kindness and positivity. Always yours.
