“I guess the daughter’s okay with it,” I say, trying to conceal my smile.
“Apparently, Victoria thinks it’s a great idea. Ethel doesn’t believe Victoria will care about one more person to feed at all, especially since it means two stories in the paper instead of one.” She puts her phone down and sighs.
“Is something bothering you?” I ask.
“I have a lot to get done in the next hour and a half.”
“I’ll let you work then,” I say, turning back to my laptop.
We don’t speak again until a quarter to seven, when Emily says, “You ready to go? I’ll drive.”
“Sure.” I close my laptop and stand up, motioning for her to go first.
She’s quiet on the ride there, which only takes ten minutes. The Burbridges live in a cute little development near the river. Their house is a large, white colonial with gray shutters. The backyard butts up against the river and has a dock for a boat. I wonder if Mr. Burbridge is a fisherman. Emily parks in the driveway, and we walk up to the front door. I spy Mrs. Burbridge in the window downstairs, peering through the curtains. She must be excited to be in the paper.
A woman in her late fifties greets us at the door, and Emily says, “You must be Victoria. I’m Emily Richards, and this is David Burke.”
“Hello. Please come in.” She steps back so we can come inside. The foyer is small with an area to hang up coats, not that we have any, given it’s August. There’s also a small table with a vase of fresh assorted flowers. “I have to tell you my parents are very excited to be interviewed. My father is hard of hearing, so you’ll have to speak up when you question him specifically. Mom is a firecracker, though. Nothing slips by her.” Victoria motions to the room on the left. “Mom and Dad are in the living room. Dinner isn’t quite ready yet, but can I get you something to drink in the meantime?”
“No, I’m fine,” Emily says.
“Nothing for me right now either, thanks,” I say.
Victoria walks us into the living room. “Mom, Dad, this is Emily and David. They’re the reporters who are going to interview you.” She speaks loudly for her father’s benefit.
Ethel pats the couch next to her. “Come sit.”
Frank is seated in an armchair beside her.
“Dad is sitting there so you’re on his good side. He has no hearing in his left ear,” Victoria says. “Mom, I’m going to finish getting dinner ready. Give a yell if you need anything.”
Ethel waves her away. “Go. Go. We’ll be fine.”
Emily sits down next to Ethel, and I take the spot next to Emily.
“Thank you for having us,” Emily says. “Your home is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Ethel says. “Frank, they like our home. Say ‘thank you,’” she says much louder.
“Thank you,” Frank says.
I take out my phone and open the voice recorder. “Mr. and Mrs. Burbridge, would it be okay if I recorded the interview?” I ask.
“Oh, yes,” Ethel says. “Frank, they’re going to record us.”
He nods, and I start the recording.
“So, how long have you been married?” Emily asks, even though I’m sure she already knows.
“Seventy-two years,” Ethel says.
“That’s a long time,” I say. “What’s your secret?”
“Well,” Ethel says, “we married young, so it was a little rough at first.”
Emily nods, as if she’s not surprised to hear that.
“But then Frank learned that I’m always right. Aren’t I always right, Frank?” she asks, raising her voice.
“Always.” Frank’s voice is raspy, and I get the feeling he’s the type who likes the quiet. I can picture him sitting in that chair reading or just enjoying the silence. He raises his finger at me. “When your woman says you forgot to do something, don’t argue. She’s right.” He lowers his voice and covers the side of his mouth closest to Ethel. “Even when she’s wrong.” He winks at me.
Ethel laughs. “Oh, I know I make mistakes sometimes. The important thing is to understand everyone does. You don’t have to point out your partner’s faults, because let’s face it—you don’t want him to turn around and point out yours.” She nudges Emily’s knee. “Am I right?”
Emily smiles. “No, you wouldn’t want that,” she says, keeping her answer focused on Ethel and Frank instead of herself.
“It’s about remembering why you fell in love in the first place. Every couple is going to disagree. The important thing is to not let that come between you. It’s fine to have different opinions. It doesn’t change how you feel about each other.” Ethel is wise beyond her years, which is saying something given her age. Emily is taking everything in, listening without commenting.
“What a lot of young people don’t get today is that marriage is a commitment.”
I cringe when Ethel says that. It’s Emily’s least favorite word.
“And commitments aren’t entered into lightly. You have to want to work at a relationship. If you can’t handle that, you shouldn’t be in one.”
Oh, no. This isn’t what I want Ethel to say to Emily. She went from trying to explain how marriage can work to basically rationalizing Emily’s stance on the issue.
“But what would life be without love?” Ethel asks. She reaches a shaky hand over, and Frank takes it in his. They smile at each other with so much love in their eyes.
“When we were young, and my buddies complained about their wives nagging them about chores that needed to be done around the house, I told them I’m just happy I’m the one she’s asking to do them. It could have been someone else, but she chose me.” He slowly raises Ethel’s hand to his mouth and kisses it.
Emily wipes her eye. “That’s a great way to look at it.”
“We made sure that no matter how busy our lives got, especially after our children were born, we always made time for each other,” Ethel says.
“Tell them about date night,” Frank says.
Ethel blushes, the color of her cheeks matching the very out-of-date lipstick she’s wearing. If I had to guess, the lipstick is probably as old as I am. “Every Friday night, Frank would take me on a date. When we first bought a house, we didn’t have much money, and we couldn’t afford to go out. So Frank would set up picnics in the backyard for us, and we’d watch the stars while eating bologna sandwiches.”
“It’s the only food I can make,” Frank says.
“It wasn’t about the food,” Ethel says. “It was the fact that he made the sandwiches for me.”
“It was the gesture and thought behind it,” I say.
“Did you ever hit any rough patches?” Emily asks. “What I mean is, where there any times when you thought you’d get...?” It’s like she doesn’t want to say the word in front of a couple as wonderful as the Burbridges.
“Divorced, dear?” Ethel asks.
Emily nods, but it’s a sad nod, like she’s hoping Ethel and Frank will tell her the idea never once popped into their heads.
“There was one time,” Ethel says. “I was pregnant with our second child. It was a boy, and he was stillborn.”
Frank pats Ethel’s hand, which he’s still holding. “Ethel couldn’t bear the thought of losing her child. She stopped talking to me for weeks.”
Ethel’s eyes water. “I did. I blamed myself for the baby’s death.”
Emily places her hand on Ethel’s free one. “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”
“I kept trying to get her to talk to me, and she got so angry. She yelled and pounded her fists against my chest,” Frank says.
“I took my anger out on Frank instead of going to him for comfort. He was hurting, too.” She sniffles. “I told him he should divorce me for the way I behaved.”
I look at Frank and raise my voice so he can hear me. “But you stayed with her.”
He nods. “She’s my Ethel. I knew I could help her through it if she’d let me.”
“And I did. We grieved together. And a few
years later, we had Victoria. She’s our youngest.” Ethel sniffles again. “Our other daughter passed away two years ago. Cancer.” She chokes on a sob.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Emily says.
“Luckily, I had learned from my past mistakes. I talked to Frank and leaned on him to get through the grief.”
“So through the tough times, you turned to each other for support,” I say.
Ethel nods. “That’s what love is. It’s not easy. Life is never easy. But it’s so much harder when you don’t work for the things that are most important to you. If I didn’t have Frank, I wouldn’t have survived losing two children. I wouldn’t be here today to talk to you.”
Victoria walks back into the living room. “Dinner is ready, if everyone will follow me to the dining room.”
I stand up, and Emily helps Ethel to her feet. I offer Frank my arm and walk him to the dining room, which is already set up for us. Once Ethel is seated, Emily asks if she can use the restroom.
“I’d like to wash up first,” she says.
“Sure.” Victoria walks her out of the room, but not before I see the tears in Emily’s eyes. Talking to Ethel and Frank has definitely affected her. But is it enough to make her open her heart to me?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Emily
I’m emotionally spent by the time David and I arrive back at our apartment. I toss my purse on the table and start for my room, but not before running straight into a strange woman. “Oh!” I say as she exits my bedroom.
“Monica?” David says. “What are you doing here?”
“Surprise!” She rushes past me to hug David. “Did you think I wouldn’t come visit for your birthday?”
“It’s your birthday?” I ask David. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“No, it’s tomorrow,” he says.
Tomorrow? But he asked me to work on the column with him tomorrow night. Why would he do that instead of going out to celebrate his birthday? I’d think he’d call Lonnie or Dominic instead.
“I thought you’d be happy to see me,” Monica says, smacking his arm. “At least that’s what I told the building supervisor when I convinced him to let me in.” She turns to me. “And who is this?”
I extend my hand. “Hi. I’m Emily. David and I work together at the paper.” The words come rushing out, my token explanation for my relationship with David.
“Oh. Emily.” She gives David a knowing look. “And whose stuff is in my old room?” She jerks a thumb over her shoulder.
“That would be mine,” I say. “Long story short, my previous roommate is getting married and I needed a new apartment. David was looking for a roommate, so he offered the room to me. I hope that’s okay,” I say, seeing the look of confusion on her face. “You weren’t planning to move back here, were you?” God, I hope I don’t have to find a new place again.
“No. It’s just that David never mentioned you moved into my old room.” She smacks his arm again. “I’m starting to think there’s a lot my brother hasn’t told me.”
Sensing I’m intruding on family time, I motion to my room. “I’m going to let you two catch up. I need to take a shower anyway.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Monica says.
“You, too.” I walk inside my room and close the door, but instead of getting my things for the shower, I lean against the door and listen to what they’re saying.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were living with her?” Monica asks in a hushed tone. “Are you two dating again?
“It’s not like that,” David says. “We just came home together because we were out on assignment for the paper.”
“Together?” she asks.
“Yes. I’m writing an article on this couple, and Emily is using the topic for an opinion piece. You wouldn’t be interested in the details. Now tell me why you came all this way for my birthday. You didn’t even tell me you wanted to visit.”
“That’s the whole point of a surprise. I know you. You won’t go out to celebrate. I mean, look. You didn’t even tell Emily your birthday is tomorrow. Do you have any plans at all?”
“Emily and I have to write our column tomorrow.”
I stop listening, feeling guilty for prying into their private conversation. Instead, I start thinking about how I can make tomorrow special for David. It’s too late to get him a gift. But there are a few things I can do. I grab my phone and call Tony’s. Since he runs the sub shop practically by himself and lives in a small apartment above it, I know he’ll answer despite the late hour.
“This is Tony.”
“Tony, hi. This is Emily Richards. I work with Aria,” I say, knowing Aria is Tony’s favorite customer. “I was hoping you’d be able to cater a lunch for me tomorrow at For the Record. I know it’s very short notice, so I’m willing to pay extra.”
“For a friend of Aria’s I can manage. What are you looking for?” he asks.
“Two of those giant subs. It’s David’s birthday. He loves roast beef and turkey, so one of each would be great.”
“You got it. Do you need them delivered?” he asks.
“Could you do that?” He has very little help at the sub shop.
“I have my nephew working deliveries now.”
“Perfect. Does noon work for you?”
“Noon will be fine. Do you want me to throw in some side salads?”
“Yes. I trust your judgment.” I give him my credit card information, thank him, and hang up. Then I text Nate.
Emily: Did you know tomorrow is David’s birthday? Think it would be okay to crash Last Call after work to celebrate? I’m having lunch catered at the paper, but I wanted to do something after work, too.
We could always write our column at work so we have the night off.
I pace my bedroom, waiting for Nate’s reply. A few minutes later, it comes through.
Nate: Caleb says the back room is available. Do you want to book it?
Emily: Yes! Thank you!
Nate: I’ll make sure he gives you the friends and family discount. I’ll take up a contribution at work too to help pay for it since there’s no time to get gifts.
Emily: You’re the best, Nate!
With everything set, I grab my things for the shower. Monica and David are in the living room, and they stop talking when I step out of my room.
“We weren’t talking about you,” Monica says. “I’m sure that made it look like we were though, huh? The immediate silence?”
“No worries. I’ll be in the shower.” I point as if they don’t know where the bathroom is located. I roll my eyes at myself as I close the door behind me. Why am I so nervous around David’s sister?
Work the next day is crazy. David and I write our column in the morning. I use the excuse of having a date with Sebastian, which he immediately accepts. I have no idea if Lonnie is bartending tonight. I should probably invite her since it’s David’s birthday, but I can’t bring myself to do it. The two of us in the same place would be too awkward. We’ve already tried that, and it didn’t end well. I had no other options for tonight, though. I’m not even sure I would have been able to book Last Call if not for Nate’s connection to Caleb.
When lunch arrives, David is shocked. Tony’s nephew, Tyler, is fifteen, but he’s extremely professional bringing in the subs and setting everything up in the break room. I tip him well when he’s finished. Especially since I forgot to order drinks, but Tony’s provided a variety anyway.
“I can’t believe you did all this,” David says after we finish singing “Happy Birthday” to him. “I feel like I’m in school and the class just sang to me.” He smiles.
“Sorry it’s all so last minute, but someone neglected to tell me he was turning a year older today.” I bump my hip into his.
“It sort of snuck up on me this year, maybe because I’m getting dangerously close to turning thirty,” he says.
“You’ve got a few years left,” I say.
“Still, I couldn’t have asked for a bette
r lunch spread if I had planned something.”
“Good. I’m glad you’re happy. And this evening, you aren’t allowed to ask any questions. You have to do what I tell you, okay?”
His eyebrow quirks, and I realize how that sounded.
I laugh. “I have something else planned. Oh!” I raise my hand to my mouth. “I forgot to tell your sister.”
Monica slept in David’s room last night, and he took the couch. She’s only here until Sunday morning, and since she came to be with her brother on his birthday, I can’t believe I forgot to include her in my plans.
“She’s going to hate me. I can’t believe I didn’t tell her. What if she has other plans for you?”
David takes me by the arms. “Emily, relax. It’s so sweet of you to do this for me. I’m sure Monica will be fine with whatever you’ve come up with. I’ll text her and let her know.”
I nod, but I still feel awful. “Please apologize for me.”
“There’s no need. I’m sure she was planning to tag along with whatever I had planned.”
“Okay. What about Lonnie? Do you want to invite her?”
He pauses and runs a hand through his hair. “We weren’t planning on hanging out tonight. I’m pretty sure she’s working.”
“Oh. Okay.” I’m relieved to hear Lonnie will be too busy working to attend the party with David. I want to have him to myself tonight.
“You have to tell me how you managed to do so much in so little time.”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess when you put your mind to something, it isn’t that difficult. Besides, I want to make sure you have a great birthday.”
He pulls me out of the break room. The newsroom is empty since everyone is busy eating. He looks around for a moment and then presses his lips to mine. I grip his arm, almost holding him in place so he doesn’t pull away too quickly.
When he finally does break the kiss, he says, “Sorry. That was my birthday wish, though.”
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