Emerald

by Elle Casey

  Sam has just confirmed my worst fear—that it was probably Drake at the apartment today. I’m so glad we left when we did. “You think he came around Madison’s place on a regular basis?”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he did. I always thought he did it when Sadie wasn’t there—that’s what Madison always told me—but now, I’m not so sure. I always believed Maddy when she said she kept him out of Sadie’s life, but I shouldn’t have.”

  “You think she was lying?” Why would she lie? Maybe because Sadie is Drake’s biological daughter and Madison thought he should be allowed to be around her? A shiver of fear runs through me again, imagining that Sadie will never be free of him.

  “Yeah.” He sighs with sadness. “She was an addict. Looking back now, I’m pretty sure she lied to me about almost everything. I knew about some of it but not all of it.”

  I pull him in for a hug. “I’m so sorry. That’s not a nice thing to find out about her at her funeral.”

  The door slowly opens, and Sadie is standing there with her hair a mess and her face puffy from sleep. “What’s a funeral?”

  It feels like my heart has jumped up into my chest and blocked my throat. I can hardly breathe.

  Sam points to the inside of the room. “Back in bed, young lady. I need you to take a nap so we can go out to dinner together soon.”

  “I already did. What’s a funeral?” She reaches up and scratches her head. She looks like a life-size doll, so sweet and innocent.

  Sam pushes the door open all the way and herds her into the room. “Go on inside and I’ll tell you.”

  I follow them in, dreading the conversation they’re about to have. What’s he going to tell her? The definition of a funeral in a general sense or the reason for this particular funeral? Am I going to witness the moment this sweet little girl finds out her mother has died? I can think of a thousand other things I’d rather do than that, but of course I’m not going to leave. If Sam decides that now is the time to have this conversation with his daughter, I’m going to support him. I just wish I could do it without feeling like I was going to throw up.

  “Why don’t you sit on the bed, and Daddy will help you put on your new dress?”

  “I have a new dress?” A small smile appears on Sadie’s face.

  Now I see the real reason for Sam’s shopping trip. He told me before how much he hates shopping, but he’s hoping he can soften the blow of bad news with some frills and lace. My heart melts a little at his attempt.

  “Yeah. I bought it for you today. It’s purple.”

  She pouts. “But I like pink.”

  “But your second-favorite color is purple, right? So, I got you a purple one because they were all out of pink.” He removes it from the bag.

  She looks at it, jumping on the bed in anticipation. “Okay. I do like purple.”

  He holds it up to her. “What do you think?”

  She stops bouncing and presses it against her tummy. “It’s pretty fabaluss,” she says, nodding seriously.

  “I thought it was pretty fabaluss too when I saw it.” He glances up at me and winks before turning his attention back to his daughter. “Ready to take off those dirty, stinky clothes and hop into the bath first?”

  “I probably need about two or three or four baths,” she says, rolling her eyes and sighing dramatically. “I was playing in the dirt a lot today.”

  “How about if Emerald goes and draws that bath for you while you and I have a little talk?”

  “Okay.” She looks up at me. “Not too hot. Hot water is dangerous for childrens.”

  I don’t want to say that I run out of the room, but I do move pretty quickly. Sam is giving me an escape hatch, and hell yes, I’m taking it.

  Fine . . . I’ll admit it; I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the emotion. I’m afraid of the pain these two are going to suffer together. I lost my father before I even knew I had one. In comparison, that was easy. I can only imagine what it would be like to be told that my parent, who I’d known about and loved all my life, was suddenly gone. I don’t even like to think about one of my mothers passing away. I know it’s going to happen someday, obviously, but hopefully not for a very long time. I’m not going to handle it well, that’s for sure. Yeah . . . it’s better that I hide in the bathroom when Sam breaks the news to Sadie; I won’t be any help to either of them in there if I’m blubbering like a baby.

  I focus on filling up the bathtub and making some bubbles with the shower gel that came with the room. When I was little, I loooved me some bubble baths. Maybe lacy dresses and bubbles will help ease Sadie’s pain. I’m willing to try anything.

  I hear crying in the other room. And as much as I want to stay away, I step out and stand silently in the little hallway between the front door and the bedroom. I don’t want them to think I don’t care.

  Sadie is standing next to the bed with tears running down her cheeks, and Sam is on one knee in front of her.

  “But why?” she asks.

  Sam’s voice cracks. “I don’t know. I guess God decided that he wanted her back early.”

  “But doesn’t God know that I need her here? I’m too little to be alone.”

  Tears rush to my eyes as my heart breaks for her. Every little girl needs her mama; she’s right. This is so unfair for all of them.

  Sam tries to explain. “You’re not alone, sweetie; you have me, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “But I need my mommy too. Doesn’t God know that?”

  “Yes, God knows that, but sometimes people are so sick, they just can’t stay here anymore.”

  “My mommy was sick.” Sadie says it like a statement, not a question. Maybe she knew.

  “Yes, she was. She was very, very sick. But she’s not anymore. Now she’s really healthy.”

  Sadie sniffs, sounding hopeful. “Then maybe she can come back if she’s not sick anymore.”

  Sam wipes the tears from her cheeks. “That’s not how it works, baby girl. Once someone goes to heaven, they can’t come back here.”

  “Maybe I’ll go there and be with her,” Sadie says, more tears streaming down her cheeks. “So she won’t be alone. Mommy doesn’t like to be alone.”

  Sam shakes his head, pressing his lips together. His chin is trembling, making his beard move too. “No, baby,” is all he manages to get out.

  Sam isn’t able to say anything else, and the look on his face compels me forward. “She’s not alone,” I say, moving toward them.

  Sadie looks up at me. “She’s not?”

  I bend down to look her in the eye. “No. There’s all kinds of people and animals there waiting for her.”

  “What people?”

  I look at Sam. “Well, her mommy and daddy?”

  Sam nods, joining in. “Yeah. And her brother, your Uncle Hank who died last year, remember?”

  She nods and then turns her attention to me. “What animals?”

  I open my eyes wide. “Oh, all the animals. Sooo many animals.”

  “Which ones?”

  I can’t believe the pressure a tiny kid can put on an adult. I scramble for names. “Well, I had this goat named Frisky who was really silly and fun and very sweet. He’s in heaven now, so if I ask him, he could probably hang out with your mom while she’s getting her wings.”

  Sadie frowns in confusion. “What wings?” She swipes her hand under her nose, spreading boogies across her cheek. I have to look away to ease the insta-nausea that takes over my stomach.

  Sam takes a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes her face as I answer.

  “Well, she’s an angel now, so she’s going to have wings and be able to fly.”

  I glance at Sam and he’s nodding at me. I guess it’s okay if I sell Sadie on this idea of the afterlife, even though he doesn’t believe in it himself.

  “What other animals are there?” Sadie asks.

  “Well, I also had a horse named Henry who’s there. Do you want me to talk to him about your mom too?”

  She nods. “Yes
. Especially if he’s a unicorn horse.”

  “I’m pretty sure he is. You know, I didn’t see a horn on his head when he was with me, but I think unicorns keep their horns invisible so nobody tries to catch them and put them in a zoo.”

  Sadie nods at me, her eyes lighting up. “I think you’re prolly right about that. Unicorns are very magic.”

  “Yes. They are.” Sam pats her on the chest. “Do you still want to put on your fancy dress and go to dinner with Daddy and Emerald?”

  Sadie looks around the room, puts her hands on her cheeks, and nods. She takes a deep breath in and out, and then lets her arms fall to dangle by her sides. “I’m really sad right now, but maybe if I have some chicken nuggets, I won’t be so sad after.”

  I have to look away as my throat closes up. Poor, sweet little thing. She’s still going to be sad, even after she eats those chicken nuggets, but I like the idea of her getting a temporary reprieve if nothing else.

  “That’s the spirit,” Sam says. “Why don’t we go have that bath now?”

  “Can it have bubbles in it?” she asks, taking her dad’s hand.

  “I already took care of it,” I say, proud that I can read the mind of a four-year-old.

  Sadie pauses and looks up at me. “How did you know I like bubble baths?”

  “Because I was a four-year-old once too.”

  She looks me up and down. “That must’ve been a really, really long time ago because you’re really old now.”

  Sam hides his laugh behind the back of his hand.

  “You’re right. I’m twenty-five and that is pretty old, now that you mention it. Some days I feel like I’m a hundred.” Like today.

  “That’s okay.” She slides her free hand into mine. “I still like you, even though you’re old.”

  We all walk toward bathroom, squeezing through the very narrow hallway together.

  “Good. Because I like you too, even though you’re young.”

  “If you want, you can marry my daddy,” Sadie says.

  My eyeballs almost fall out of my head hearing that. I can’t see Sam’s face, but he’s frozen in his tracks, just like I am.

  “Okay, well . . . that’s good to know.” I let her hand go. “I’m going to go in the other room and watch TV while you take your bath.”

  She spins around. “No. You have to stay with me and wash my back. It’s dangerous to leave a child alone in the bathtub.”

  I work to get my voice even, still freaked out about the marriage comment. “Your daddy can watch over you.”

  She presses her hands on her hips and gives me a look that I’m pretty sure she learned from one of her parents. “You both can watch me.”

  “Fine. We can both watch you,” Sam says. “Just get your clothes off and stop your yappin’.” He points toward the bathroom, avoiding making eye contact with me, thank goodness.

  I walk over to the tub, lowering myself down onto my knees next to it. I talk to myself inside my head the entire time. I can get through this. I am not afraid of a four-year-old—not even one who sees too much and somehow manages to say exactly the most embarrassing thing at exactly the worst moment.

  Pfff. Who am I kidding? Of course I’m afraid.

  Amber was right about me; I’m afraid of the feelings I have for Sam and his little girl, of how they can evoke this need to protect them both when I hardly know them. I’m afraid of the sadness that overwhelms me when I realize that our time together is going to be short-lived because they’ll be staying in New York and I’ll be moving on. I’m afraid that I’m never going to meet a guy as attractive to me as Sam is out in the middle of nowhere in Maine, or anywhere else for that matter. I’m sitting here next to this bathtub, watching a sassy little princess make a bubble beard that “looks just like Daddy’s,” and I want to run for the hills . . . Because love is scary. I swallow with difficulty as that word floats through my mind. Love . . .

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  We make it through the bubble bath and dinner without any incidents or too many tears. Sadie knows herself better than I do; she was right about those chicken nuggets helping her feel less sad. Sadie falls asleep on our way back up to the room, snuggled in Sam’s arms. He puts her to bed, and her whispery snore keeps a steady rhythm as we remove our clothing and change into pajamas. I’m wearing flannel pants and a T-shirt, and Sam is in basketball shorts. I have to look away from his muscular chest to keep from wanting to run my hands all over it.

  “I really want to sleep with you tonight,” he whispers. He comes over to hold me while we’re standing at the foot of the other bed. His masculine smell and presence nearly overwhelm me and make me want to forget every rule of decency I ever learned.

  “But we can’t,” I whisper back. I push out of his embrace, worried he’s going to ignore the fact that his little girl is sound asleep next to us. Yes, I really want to have sex with him, feel his hardness penetrate me and make me forget at least temporarily all the sad things we dealt with today, but there’s no way I’m going to risk getting discovered by Sadie.

  This little girl is so impressionable, and she sees everything. She kept the entire conversation going during dinner with her crazy banter, and from the stories she told, it’s clear that she understands a lot more about her mother’s lifestyle then Sam ever realized. He feels guilty enough about that; we don’t need to add anything else to his list of regrets.

  “How about if I sleep with her?” I suggest. “That way you can spread out tonight in your own bed.”

  “No, I’ll sleep with her. You paid for the room, so you should have your own space. And by the way, I’m going to pay you back for this.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get back to New York and worry about everything then.”

  He takes my hand. “Are you scared?”

  “About what?”

  “About marrying me.”

  I release his hand and step back, my mouth dropping open in shock.

  He giggles like a girl, hiding his smile behind his hand. I can see his stupid weirdo beardo quivering with his laughter.

  “Stop that.” My face is flaming hot. I slap him gently on the arm. I’d hit him harder, but I don’t want to wake Sadie.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” He laughs some more.

  “You are so bold.” I shake my head at him. One thing I can say about Sam: he sure knows how to bring down the temperature in a room. My blood is now running cold from the shock, when before it was ready to boil over from staring at his gorgeous body.

  “What else am I gonna do? My four-year-old thinks she needs to make moves on chicks for me. She must think I’m pretty lame.”

  “Well, she’s a pretty smart little girl; you are lame.” I busy myself with putting my clothing in my suitcase, trying hard not to smile but failing miserably.

  “Seriously, though.” His voice is no longer teasing. “Are you okay? Are you worried about anything? Are we cool?”

  “I’m not worried about anything anymore.” I close my suitcase and turn to face him. “We’re safe out here at this no-name hotel, and we’re leaving tomorrow. What’s there to be afraid of?”

  He takes my hand again. “Are you freaked out about what’s going on otherwise . . . like, between us?”

  I shrug. “Maybe a little.” Being able to admit my feelings to him somehow makes the fear recede, seem more manageable. It helps that he’s being so open and talking about it. I’ve never been in a relationship like this with a man before.

  “I worry about you being afraid, you know,” he says.

  “Why?”

  “Because. Some people make snap decisions when they’re afraid of something, and it may not always be the best option in the long run.”

  “What kind of decisions are you talking about?”

  He stares at me for a while before answering. “The kind where you choose between sticking around and running away.”

  I fold my arms, slightly offended that he’d think this about me
. “I was just relocating, not running.”

  “I’m not talking about your decision to come to this hotel.”

  Oh. His meaning hits me like a smack upside the head. He thinks I’m so afraid of what’s going on between us, I’m going to run from him. “I thought you knew me better than that by now.” It’s true that we will probably end up apart, but it won’t be because I was afraid and took off; it’ll be because life circumstances dictate that he be in one place and I be in another, either because of work or because we decide we don’t get along anymore.

  “I think I do know you, Em.”

  I cross my arms over my chest so I can keep from doing something we’ll both regret. “What happened the last time you told me I was afraid?”

  “I don’t remember.” He tries not to smile, which is smart of him because if I even get an inkling that he’s mocking me, I am going to make him very sorry; I see a serious beard-tugging in his future.

  “You ended up in a bet with me that you still need to fulfill, by the way. You’re going to owe me two hundred bucks.”

  His grin is huge. “I can’t wait. Maybe I can get Sadie to play tambourine.”

  I lift my chin. “Perfect. I can’t wait either.” I turn away and pull my toothbrush out of my bag, moving toward the bathroom.

  Even while brushing my teeth, I’m fighting off a grin. I love hanging out with Sam and Sadie, even when things are emotionally charged or sad. I never realized before that four-year-olds could be cool. Even though she majorly embarrassed me with that marriage comment, it still turned out okay. Sam can joke about it, and that’s exactly what we need—humor . . . laughter . . . the things that will get us past these bumps of sorrow that we’re running over.

  If we can hang on to our smiles and our senses of humor, everything’s going to be okay. One step at a time, we’ll get past the death of Sadie’s mom, and one day at a time, I’ll get over missing these beautiful people who will eventually move on. It doesn’t matter that I’m falling in love with this man. I won’t let it destroy my world. I’ll just deal with the inevitable pain when it comes and move on.