by Jane Green
“He made this? All by himself?”
“He’s an amazing chef, especially when it comes to Italian food, and all of it is insanely fattening, which means I’m going to weigh three hundred pounds by the end of the summer.” She casts a look at the pan. “It may be worth it, though.”
“I’ll say it is.” Sophie is almost drooling. “He cooks, too? Is he the perfect man?”
Teddy joins them, putting Jackson down and peering out the kitchen window. “Where is this perfect man of yours? Is he the rather macho bearded one by the grill?”
“No, that’s his friend AJ.”
“Of course it is. He’s the handsome one by the table, then.”
“Yes. That’s Dominic. I’m not sure he’s my man yet, though. Not really.” Emma attempts a laugh.
Sophie shoots her a skeptical look. “You’re completely starry-eyed and you’ve been sleeping at his house every night. I’d say that pretty much makes it official.”
“Sophie!” Emma blushes. “I just—” She lowers her voice. “His son doesn’t seem completely happy about us being together, so I’m trying to be discreet about it. I don’t want to rock the boat. I figure if we take it slowly, he’ll have time to get used to it.”
“I thought Jesse adored you?”
“Well, he’s gone back and forth. We got along great at first, but not anymore. Now he sometimes looks at me funny. I’m afraid he thinks I’m the devil sent to steal his father away from him. I’m trying to prove that I have no intention of getting between the two of them.”
“It’ll be fine,” Sophie says, shrugging off Emma’s concern. “You’re a wonderful person, and Jesse will realize you’re a great addition to his family. He’s incredibly lucky to have you. He should know that.”
“He’s six years old. I’m not sure he’s capable of recognizing any of that. But he did like me before, so hopefully he’ll get over this and we’ll go back to being friends.”
“You’re the loveliest woman in the world. He’ll get over it.” Sophie gives her a hug, and asks, “Can I bring anything outside?”
“Grab the chips. Come and meet AJ and Deb. And, of course, Jesse.”
When they get outside, they find that Jesse is busy with Dylan, a friend who has come over for a playdate. They are grabbing handfuls of popcorn from the table before cramming them in their mouths as they race through the garden.
Emma watches, wanting to tell them to slow down, not to fill up on popcorn, to leave room for the chicken parm and for the hot dogs Dominic is grilling. But she says nothing, reminding herself she is not Jesse’s mother. She’s noticed more and more that he sees her efforts to guide him as telling him off, and Jesse clearly doesn’t believe she has the right to do that. Emma knows she doesn’t have the right to do that, either.
Perhaps, in time, she will be able to exert more influence. She can see that Dominic is an amazing father, brimming with love, attention, and appreciation for his child. But he doesn’t set boundaries the way she would, rarely setting Jesse straight if he is rude or behaving badly, which is not how Emma would parent.
Even though Emma is not a parent.
Teddy sits next to her on the Adirondack chair, toasting her with a frozen margarita in a plastic cup. They sit in companionable silence for a while, watching Dominic, AJ, and Rob chatting by the grill, and Sophie and Deb animatedly discussing their shared obsession with Etsy.
“This is nice,” says Teddy, after a while. “He is nice.” She nods her head in Dominic’s direction. “This is good for you. He’s good for you.”
Emma finds herself smiling as she nods. “Things are going well. It’s early days but it feels good.”
“Early days are irrelevant,” Teddy says. “When it’s right, it’s right. Do you know, when I met my husband—Sophie’s father—I came home that night and told my mother I had met the man I was going to marry. He went home and said the same thing to his father. We had barely spoken, just seen each other across the room and shared one dance before the night was over, but both of us knew. Dominic may not be who you would have chosen for yourself, but here you are. It’s quite clear the two of you have found something special in each other.”
Emma looks at her curiously. “You can see that he isn’t what I would have chosen for myself?”
“He’s from a very different world than yours. Even I can see that. But he’s a very good man. I see that, too. And he loves you.” She looks steadily at Emma. “It would seem you love him, too.”
Emma shakes her head. “I don’t know that we’re talking love yet. It’s far too early.”
“It may be too early for either of you to admit it, but it’s there. I am something of a witch, Emma, and I can tell you that this is the man for you. You’re going to live happily ever after.” She smiles. “The son will come around.”
“That’s the challenging part,” says Emma. “But I’m working on it.”
Teddy goes off to talk to the others, and Emma notices Jesse is still tearing around the garden with Dylan, approaching their table for his third canned soda. Really, Emma’s not surprised that he’s acting like a crazy person, given that he’s just consumed his weight in sugar. She watches him finish the drink and reach for another.
“Hey, Jesse, if you’re thirsty, maybe you should have some water?”
Jesse barely pauses as he reaches for a fresh can from the galvanized bucket on the ground, and he doesn’t even look at her as he swigs the beverage. He looks quite defiant, thinks Emma, who doesn’t say another word.
“A Valium?” mutters Sophie, who has come up beside her and witnessed the whole exchange.
“You know what you need, Jesse?” Emma now calls out, loudly enough for Jesse to hear. “You need a trampoline.” Jesse stops in his tracks and stares at her, his eyes widening as his mouth opens.
“I do.” He starts nodding. “I do. I do need a trampoline.”
“I think it would be a great thing for you to get rid of some of this energy.”
“That and chucking the soda,” mutters Sophie under her breath, although Emma hears her loud and clear.
“I think we should buy you one,” says Emma. “A late birthday gift, seeing as I didn’t know you when it actually was your birthday.”
“Really?” Jesse is now hopping up and down. “Did you ask Dad? Did Dad say yes?”
Emma looks over at Dominic, who heard her raised voice when she made the suggestion and has been watching the exchange attentively ever since. “What do you think? Can I buy Jesse a trampoline?”
“I think that would be a great idea,” Dominic says with a smile. “Jesse? What do you say?”
“Thank you!” shouts Jesse, running over and flinging his arms around Emma as her eyes, completely unexpectedly, fill with tears. Relieved, even thrilled, she hugs him back. It’s not precisely how she would have chosen to pave the way back into his heart, even temporarily. But for now, it will do.
• • •
As the hours tick by, Emma realizes it is obvious to all that she and Dominic are a couple. Yet she also can’t help but notice that Dominic has been careful not to kiss her or touch her all evening.
Perhaps he doesn’t want his friends to know, she thinks, although Deb had sidled up to her earlier in the evening and whispered how thrilled she and AJ were that Emma and Dominic seemed to have such great chemistry. It is more likely, she knows, that he is being reserved for Jesse’s sake. While at first he seemed oblivious to Jesse’s resentment of her, they have discussed it enough since that first morning that Dominic is more sensitive to it now. Still, Emma tries not to let her imagination run riot with fantasies that his standoffishness is about something else.
Finally, toward the end of the evening, Dominic slips his arms around her waist from behind as she is talking to Sophie and Deb, and kisses her neck. She savors the feeling of his arms around her, even as she sus
pects this display is fueled by alcohol.
“Now that’s a bold move,” says Deb, looking from one to the other. “We can definitely all see you’ve progressed from the landlord/tenant relationship now.”
“No.” Dominic shakes his head. “I do this with all my tenants.”
“It’s true,” says Emma, leaning back into his body, marveling at how solid and safe he feels. “It was in my lease.”
They all laugh.
“Seriously, though,” says Deb, with delight. “The two of you are a couple?”
“We’re a beginning,” says Emma, and at the same time Dominic says, “Yes, we’re a couple.”
Emma pulls away and turns to look at him. “Are we? Are we a couple?”
“Aren’t we?”
“We haven’t even been on a date!” she says. “Well, except for that farm dinner—but that wasn’t official because I invited you.”
“That counts!” says Dominic. “Anyway, we’ve found plenty of other things to keep us busy . . .” He grins.
Sophie claps her hands over her ears. “Too much information,” she says, before removing her hands. And then she glares at them in mock outrage. “What do you mean, you haven’t been on an official date? A real, formal ‘man asks a woman out’ date? What have you been doing?” Then she laughs. “No, don’t answer that! You must go on a date! It’s terrible that it hasn’t happened.”
“It’s all been a bit more organic than that,” explains Emma. “We’ve just sort of fallen into a relationship. We’ve kind of gone beyond dating.”
“Bullshit.” Sophie turns to Dominic. “You need to take her out for dinner. You can drop Jesse off with us and I’ll babysit him. He can even sleep over.” She winks. “Go somewhere nice. Wednesday night?”
“Sophie!” Emma starts to laugh. “I don’t even know if I’m free on Wednesday night.”
“Trust me,” she says. “You’re free.” Then she looks at Dominic. “You don’t work at the Hen until Thursdays, right?”
“Right.” Dominic grins.
“So now you both can go on your first official date. Take her somewhere you love. Don’t go to a place that’s trendy or cheap. You’re welcome.” She turns away with a smile. “Honey?” she calls out to Rob. “Can you bring me another glass of wine?”
“I don’t even know anywhere trendy,” Dominic says to Sophie. “What does that even mean?”
“It means somewhere that opened up in the last year that’s filled with very glamorous people who are overdressed and filled with their own fabulousness. They tend to be very loud. Don’t take her anywhere like that.”
“I don’t know anywhere like that.” Dominic feigns horror. “The restaurants I go to—when I go to restaurants at all—have been here forever. They’re small. And cozy.”
“Perfect. Take her somewhere like that.”
TWENTY
Love. Does he love me? Is this the real thing? Emma moves around the kitchen, cleaning up her house before she gets ready for her date, pausing with shock and surprise.
I love him, she thinks, her breath catching in her throat before a slow smile of wonder settles on her face. I love him.
She couldn’t tell him. Wouldn’t tell him. It would be too risky, would make her too vulnerable—what if he is frightened away?
She is certain, though, as she puts the dishcloth down and moves to the bathroom, that she does love him. For a long time now, Emma realizes, she has been worried about her capacity to love. She didn’t love Rufus, the only other man she was supposed to have loved. She liked him very much, to be sure, but not in the way she needed in order to marry him. And her relationships in the years since have never blossomed into anything even close to what she’s experiencing now.
Emma has never quite believed that love would happen for her. It certainly happened to others, perhaps just a few lucky people, but she had thought, had always known, she wouldn’t be one of them. That kind of love wasn’t going to happen to her, and she had accepted it.
And yet here she is. And it does seem to have happened. It is passionate, and sweeping, and dramatic, but in the most comfortable of ways.
I know you, she thought, from the very beginning, when she first came to see the house. I recognize you. Here you are.
Their relationship is ease and safety. It is quiet recognition. It is going on their first date together, after weeks of sleeping together. It is so easily starting to spend all their time together, virtually living together, so easily finding herself no longer worrying about what she looks like first thing in the morning. She makes the effort to feel beautiful now, secure in the knowledge that she doesn’t need to, that he likes her whatever she looks like, even with terrible bedhead and pillow marks on her cheek.
She remembers having read something once about a psychologist who had spent years studying married couples, and who was able to predict very quickly whether newlyweds would stay together and be happy or see their unions end in divorce. His predictions were unerringly accurate.
He’d discovered that successful marriages boiled down to kindness. Not necessarily the obvious kindness, like bringing someone a cup of coffee in bed, although that was a lovely sort of gesture, and important. But what he pointed to was the kindness of attention. When one partner asked a question of the other, or asked for an opinion, or wanted to talk about a problem, in a successful relationship the other partner always stopped to offer their full attention. By doing so, they met their partner’s most fundamental emotional needs.
The article had stuck with Emma. And in the weeks since she’s moved in, she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. The couples in disastrous unions, this psychologist said, were constantly in fight-or-flight mode. They were verbally or sometimes physically combative, always preparing to attack or be attacked.
Looking back, her relationship with Rufus had indeed been combative. They would verbally spar, jousting with words and sarcasm.
The relationship with Dominic is different, not just because he is from such a different world. There is true kindness in their interactions. She thinks about how even when she met him that first day, looking at the house, he had listened to everything she said, really considered her words and responded. Dominic makes time for her, listens to her, is calm, and steady, and so grounded that he makes her feel calm, and steady, and grounded, too.
So this is love, she has thought over the last few days. I was right. It isn’t a roller coaster of emotion, but rather a feeling of a kind of calm, a peacefulness.
And there is no doubt in her mind that she has come home.
Emma blows out her hair, then uses a curling iron to twist it into the loose curls that Dominic loves, the loose curls that make her feel feminine and beautiful.
She left his house this morning, telling him he couldn’t come over until he was ready to pick her up for their date. She wants this to be a real date. She wants to feel excited, feel the thrill of anticipation, and she wants Dominic to feel it, too.
She has no idea where they are going, but Dominic said casual. Not too casual, though, she thinks. It is August already, almost the end of summer, and the evenings are warm. Warm enough for her to wear what she has chosen to wear all summer, the pretty linen shifts and loose printed tea dresses that make her feel feminine and pretty.
She chooses a strappy white linen dress tonight, to show off the deep, golden tan that has developed over the summer. Suede espadrilles with a small heel, a gold shark’s-tooth necklace, and a sheer gray chiffon wrap.
The lightest touch of bronzer, shimmer on her cheekbones, gloss on her lips. They may have been together just a short while, but Dominic has seen her first thing in the morning. He knows what she looks like without all the accoutrements. She doesn’t need to dress up for him, but it is nice to dress up for herself. He loves me with or without makeup. And then, midthought, she stops.
I
love him, she thinks again, getting up to leave.
• • •
The bar at Tarantino’s is packed. Dominic greets a dark-haired man with a bro hug, and then they are led through the bar and into the restaurant.
“I reserved the quietest table we have,” the man says, taking them to one in the window, and laughing because nowhere in the restaurant is it truly quiet. “What can I get you to drink? Dominic, you want your Tito’s martini?”
“Always,” Dominic says with a grin. “Emma?”
“Could I have a glass of Prosecco?”
“Coming right up.”
Emma sits back and looks around at the bustling Italian restaurant. “I love it.”
“I’ve been coming here forever,” says Dominic. “Sophie told me to bring you to my favorite joint, and this is it.”
“Do you know everyone in here?” Emma laughs as people look over to catch Dominic’s eye and wave.
“Pretty much. The combination of being both Italian and a townie. My family lived right here, in Saugatuck, for years. I went to school with pretty much all the local business owners down here. It’s a tight-knit community.”
“What’s Saugatuck?”
“A neighborhood. The best neighborhood.” He winks.
“Have you ever wanted to live anywhere else?”
“Never. This is home. I like that wherever I go, I know people. The whole town is filled with memories for me. I remember tearing around on my bike with a pack of neighborhood kids when I was young; I like that I grew up here when there was Bill’s Smoke Shop, and the Remarkable Book Store, and Sally’s. I don’t have any wanderlust in me. I guess we’re very different that way.”
“No,” says Emma. “Obviously, I left England for the United States, but honestly, I had never really felt at home there. Oh, don’t get me wrong. My parents loved me. I’m much more like my dad than my mum—she doesn’t understand me at all, and of course my dad was always at work while I was growing up, so I was left feeling like I must have been a changeling. Living in London wasn’t much better, so I was happy for the transfer to New York. I lived in Manhattan for years, but I always knew it wasn’t where I wanted to spend the rest of my life. I think I’ve found my place now. I’m really not sure I would ever want to go anywhere else.”