Falling

by Jane Green

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I didn’t want you to think I was recommending a friend. If you want him to build them, I’m sure he has the time, and I can oversee them to make sure they’re perfect.”

  “I’ll oversee him anytime you want,” says Lisa, and they both laugh. “Are you married?” she then asks, out of the blue. Emma blushes and shakes her head.

  “Is he?”

  “I know where you’re going with this,” warns Emma with a laugh.

  “Seriously? Why not! If I were single and he was my landlord he could fix my shelves anytime he wanted.”

  “I don’t know that we’re terribly well matched,” says Emma, aware suddenly of her well-spoken British accent. “And I’m not looking for anything at the moment.” Which had been true, up until the moment Dominic kissed her. But certainly her first client isn’t the person she should be making any confessions to.

  “The best things in life always find us when we’re not looking for them,” says Lisa, now serious. “Okay, I’ll stop. But the two of you look good together. I could see it. And I would.” She smiles. “If I were you.”

  SEVENTEEN

  By late that afternoon, she’s back home. Everything she needs is at her fingertips. Emma sits behind the computer, Hobbes on her lap, losing herself completely as she trawls websites, changes search terms, and zeroes in on all the accessories she needs to complete Lisa’s house.

  Just past six she hears the cat flap open, and seconds later Jesse is in her doorway. By the smile on his face, it looks as if he has gotten over this morning’s tantrum.

  “Hey, Jesse.” She pretends the last thing she heard him say about her was not that he wanted nothing to do with her.

  “Hi,” he says. “Have you seen Hobbes?”

  “She’s right here.” Emma slides her chair back, gesturing to her lap. Jesse comes over and pets the cat. “Want to take her? Maybe the two of you can cuddle up on the sofa. I can put a movie on if you like.”

  “Sure,” Jesse says. She notices now that he’s carefully keeping his gaze on the kitten, and doing his best not to look at her at all.

  She hands him Hobbes, gets up, and puts a movie on, grabbing a packet of M&Ms from the kitchen and pouring them into a bowl.

  “Ssssh,” she says, putting the bowl on the table in front of the sofa. “Don’t tell your dad.” She turns to go back into her office when Jesse speaks.

  “I’m really sorry, Emma,” he says. “For what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

  Relieved, and moved, she turns carefully and sits next to him on the sofa. “That’s okay, sweetie. I’m sorry I upset you.”

  They look at each other and Jesse nods, then giggles as Hobbes inches her way up his chest and starts to suck on his earlobe. Emma stands up, makes her way into the bathroom to wipe away her tears. It seems like everything is going to be all right.

  A knock on her door brings her out of the bathroom, and she opens it, unsurprised to see Dominic standing on the doorstep.

  “Hi, you.” He leans forward to kiss her, but Emma turns it into a quick peck, whispering that Jesse is there. She doesn’t want to upset the applecart again.

  “I wondered where he’d gotten to,” says Dominic. “He can’t see us. Give me a proper kiss. I deserve one after you were all weird with me this afternoon.”

  “I wasn’t weird. I was being professional. I didn’t want Lisa to suspect my reasons for recommending you.” Dominic pulls her close as she loops her arms around his neck. “She thinks we look good together,” says Emma when she pulls away.

  “I knew I liked her.” He lets her go and walks across the threshold, entering the cottage and heading over to where Jesse is lying on the sofa.

  “Hey, buddy. I’m going to run out and get burgers and corn for dinner.” He turns to Emma. “Want to join us? I’m just throwing stuff on the grill.”

  “Really?” says Emma, who hadn’t much thought about dinner. She wasn’t terribly hungry but presumed she would do what she had been doing almost every night and just throw together a salad from whatever she has in her fridge.

  “Sure. If I buy salad stuff can you make it? Is it okay if I leave Jesse with you while I run up to the grocery store?”

  “Salad stuff I have. And yes, of course Jesse is fine to stay here.”

  Dominic drops his voice. “Is he, though?”

  “After this morning?” She drops her voice, checking that Jesse is glued to the TV. “He apologized.”

  “Good.” He rolls his eyes. “Children.” And off he goes.

  When he gets back, they all gather at Dominic’s house. Emma is careful not to touch Dominic all evening in front of Jesse. Every now and then Dominic will take her hand, or reach over for a kiss, but she doesn’t want to upset Jesse, doesn’t want to do anything that might disturb the détente they seem to have reached. She’s still not sure she understands it, neither why Jesse got quite so upset nor why Dominic seems completely unaware that this might be an issue.

  Dominic grills outside while Emma shucks the corn and gets a big pot of water to boil. She sets the table, getting a reluctant Jesse to help, while Dominic brings in a platter of food.

  They crack open beers, even though Emma would normally drink wine. This year, in this house, in this town, with this man, an ice-cold bottle of beer has become summer personified. Everything about the evening is perfect.

  Jesse is quiet but sweet. Toward the end of the evening, fireflies glimmer on and off in the darkening yard. When Jesse starts yawning, Dominic says it’s time for bed.

  Jesse starts whining that he wants to stay up, that he never goes to bed this early.

  “You know what?” Emma says, when twenty minutes have passed and Dominic has clearly forgotten that he was supposed to be sending Jesse to bed, even though Jesse can barely keep his eyes open. “How about Hobbes has a sleepover with you tonight?”

  Jesse’s face lights up. “In my room?”

  “Sure. If your dad says yes.” She looks at Dominic, who laughs, raising his hands, knowing he now doesn’t have a hope in hell of saying anything other than yes.

  “Why doesn’t your dad take you up to bed while I go and get Hobbes. I can bring him in as soon as you’ve brushed your teeth.”

  “Do I have to brush my teeth?” Jesse says—but not to his dad, to Emma.

  “Absolutely you do. Unless you want them all to fall out. Go on, go up now, and by the time you’re done, Hobbes will be curled up on your pillow.”

  Dominic shoots her a grateful smile as he heads upstairs with his son. Emma watches them before heading next door to get Hobbes. They need a woman, she thinks. The pair of them need someone like me.

  When Dominic comes back downstairs, he stands behind Emma at the sink and slips his arms around her waist. It is weird, she realizes, that it is not weird. There is no dancing around each other, trying to figure out what the other is thinking or feeling; there is no awkwardness, no trying to take it slow, no slight discomfort that exists at the beginning of a new relationship. How weird it is that they moved past that so quickly and completely.

  Dominic seems quite unlike any man she has ever met, perhaps because he is not playing games. He seems completely open about how he feels about Emma, and doesn’t particularly want to hide it from anyone. Even his own son. Emma has spent a large part of the evening attempting to fob off his amorous advances—because of Jesse, not because she wasn’t ready and willing to receive them.

  “Poor little guy,” Dominic says as he nuzzles into her neck. “He’s exhausted. No idea why. All that running around at camp, probably. Thank you for bringing the kitten. I honestly don’t know how I would have got him into bed otherwise.”

  “It’s a pleasure.”

  “You even got him to brush his teeth. I should be giving you a medal.”

  “I’m just relieved he’s
feeling better. That whole tantrum earlier really upset me.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry we haven’t had a chance to talk about it properly. If it makes you feel better, this time he’s prepared.”

  Emma frowns. “What do you mean?”

  “I told him you might sleep over again, that adults are allowed to have sleepovers, too, and that you are a special friend. I told him I really like you, and I want him to really like you, too. I also said that he and I would always be a team, and that no one would ever get in the way of that.”

  “And you think he’s okay with that?” Emma can’t wipe the smile off her face. He wants her to sleep over again! All of it said so easily, so simply. She doesn’t know what to do with the feeling that gives her.

  Other than enjoy it.

  “I don’t ever want you to think this relationship is only about sex,” says Dominic, sliding his hands around to cup her breasts. “But the sex was so damn good last night, do you think it would be terrible if I picked you up and carried you upstairs to bed so we could do it again?”

  “Yes!” Emma is horrified. “You can’t pick me up! I’m way heavier than you thi—” She can’t get any more out before Dominic has swept her up, not in a romance-novel kind of way, but hoisted over his shoulder. She yelps with laughter before remembering that they are both trying to get Jesse to fall asleep, so instead she thumps his back all the way up the stairs.

  • • •

  Is it possible, she thinks, lying in the dark, just able to see the outline of Dominic’s body as he gently snores, is it possible for something to get so very much better in twenty-four hours?

  And is it possible, she thinks, reaching out and stroking his arm over the sheet, feeling its contours, to feel so strongly about someone I barely know? Someone I would never choose for myself? Someone I never would have thought would fit into my life or my world, at least not the life that’s always been expected of me.

  There is something about Dominic. About all of this, that feels . . . right. From the moment he first put his hand on the small of her back, entirely innocently, a gentlemanly gesture to guide her through the garden gate, she felt she had come home.

  What was it Lisa had said earlier today? That the best things in life always find us when we’re not looking for them?

  Now, more than ever, she knows that to be true. She barely even knows Dominic, but feels, for the first time, that she has found everything she has been looking for; this is where she fits in; this is where she belongs.

  EIGHTEEN

  Dominic suggests the diner for breakfast the next morning, and Emma is relieved. She realizes she’s been vaguely worried about confronting another scene with Jesse like the one at breakfast the day before. Although it is only a blip in a catalog of lovely times together, she doesn’t want to upset him again, and perhaps sitting together in a restaurant will make that less likely.

  She gets dressed and goes to wash her face in the bathroom, where she finds Hobbes curled up fast asleep on the bath mat. Picking her up, she tiptoes downstairs and goes back home to brush her teeth and jump in the shower before meeting Dominic and Jesse outside by the truck.

  It all feels so curious, she thinks, bouncing in the passenger seat of the truck as Dominic and Jesse loudly sing along to Neil Young, that this should feel so much like a family. Perhaps this is how every woman feels, dating a man with children. Perhaps this is how every woman feels when she has found what she didn’t even know she was looking for. Emma should recognize family, for she was loved by her parents, but she didn’t feel like she belonged, didn’t feel she had the right family, even though they were clearly hers.

  As for dating, they are not dating. Not exactly. They have only been on one date, to the farm dinner, and that wasn’t really official. Nor has he mentioned taking her out. She is not sure what this is, other than fantastic sex, much laughter, and sweetness.

  It may not have a label, but right now it feels lovely, and that is enough.

  At the diner, Jesse is greeted by everyone, all of them commenting on how big he is, how grown-up. They tuck into a booth where Emma tries to order a fruit platter and rye toast, only to find Jesse insisting she needs to have pancakes instead, because the pancakes there are the best, and if she hasn’t had them she is missing out.

  Emma pauses. Pancakes drowning in syrup are the very last thing she wants right now, but she also wants to please Jesse, wants him to like her. If she has to eat a few pancakes to help that happen, she will sacrifice the fruit and toast.

  Dominic tells stories throughout breakfast about Jesse, all of them funny, all of them delighting Jesse, though he has clearly heard them many times before.

  “Tell Emma the one about my head splitting open like a watermelon!” He bounces excitedly on the banquette seat. “And the time you forgot me in the restaurant! Go on! Tell her!”

  “I’m not sure I should, buddy,” says Dominic. “I don’t think those stories are good for my brand.”

  “Dad.” Jesse raises an eyebrow at his father, who bursts out laughing and proceeds to fill the rest of breakfast with more stories of Jesse’s childhood.

  “Remember when you took the scissors out of the kitchen drawer and you decided to give yourself a haircut?” As Dominic recounts the tale, Jesse rocks back and forth with glee. He knows every word of this story but can’t tear his eyes off his father, delighted at hearing his childhood over and over.

  “Oh man.” Dominic shakes his head, laughing. “He cut huge chunks out of sections of his hair. It was terrible. He came in to show me with a big smile, thinking he’d given himself this great haircut, and he looked like he’d just stepped out of the circus ring. I had to shave it all off.”

  “But you left me a Mohawk!” Jesse shouts.

  “Not that time. There wasn’t enough hair.”

  Whatever Jesse was going through yesterday seems to be over, for the most part. He is as sweet with Emma as he was before he found her in his father’s bed. When Dominic reaches for her hand as they walk out of the diner, Emma is glad to see that the flash of discomfort in Jesse’s eyes passes quickly.

  They drop Jesse at camp, then drive to Torno Lumber to buy materials for Lisa’s shelves, before Emma goes off to buy more accessories for the house. She stops at Gold’s for sandwiches for lunch, bringing them home as she watches Dominic first construct the basic shelves in their backyard, leaping up from time to time to give him input.

  “I’m not sure that’s completely level. It may be me, it probably is me, but can we just check it?”

  They stop and check; stop and check; even when Emma is wrong, and she is wrong only once, they stop and check.

  She brings her laptop outside, sitting under the shade of the apple tree while he saws, sands, and hammers. They stop, although only briefly, for a short but sweet lovemaking session after lunch.

  • • •

  One night, with a start, Emma realizes she has spent every night for the past week with Dominic. They haven’t discussed it, but as each evening rolls on, they just both assume she will stay. And she has. She needs her own bed tonight, though. She has a lot to do tomorrow; they both have a lot to do, finishing up Lisa’s house. And to be honest, she has to confess to herself that it will be good for her to have some space. Everything has happened so quickly, she feels a need to catch her breath, just to be sure it’s all real.

  • • •

  After so many days away, Emma’s house is a peaceful and welcome respite. But a lonely one. She pours herself a glass of wine and sits in the garden, where she immediately realizes she can hear Jesse laughing and Dominic calling him over to help with the grill, and her self-imposed exile seems ridiculous.

  And yet she should have a night to herself. It can’t be right to have this instant relationship in so short a time. Emma goes back inside, pours another glass of rosé, curls up on the sofa with Hobbes,
and attempts to lose herself in a novel.

  It doesn’t work. She puts the book down every few paragraphs and picks up her phone, checking for e-mails, texts, any kind of distraction.

  At ten o’clock, just as she is trawling through Netflix looking for a series she hasn’t yet watched, Dominic texts her.

  I miss you.

  I miss you, too, she types, the smile wide on her face.

  I’m going to bed now, he types. I wanted to say good night.

  Good night, she types. Sleep well.

  He sends an emoji kiss, and nothing else.

  There is a part of her that had hoped he would suggest her coming over. She would have gone, even though she knows she needs the night alone. The relationships that burn brightest and fastest burn out the quickest, she reminds herself. She has learned this the hard way, with exciting friendships that failed.

  A couple of years ago, at a party on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, Emma had watched as a very tall, rather stunning girl stalked in. She looked like a model, angular and chic, but it turned out she was actually a chef in a wonderful restaurant Emma had recently visited. The two of them spent the whole night chatting.

  It felt immediately like they had known each other for years. It was one of those mutual girl crushes that women so often experience. They couldn’t believe how much they had in common, how much they thought alike, how they were both interested in the same things, namely, interiors, food, design.

  “We have to get together,” said Anna, the girl, and they arranged to meet for lunch the next day. There were many lunches, coffees, dinners, and outings over the next few months. When they met one another’s mutual friends they joked that they were each other’s New Best Friends. But it was true: Emma hadn’t found anyone in years who seemed to connect with her in quite the way Anna did.

  The two of them went on adventures together, climbing into Anna’s old VW Beetle convertible and driving out to fantastic farmer’s markets in upstate New York, staying with friends of hers in Millbrook. Anna almost immediately became the best friend Emma had always wanted.