The Emi Lost & Found Series

by Lori L. Otto

  “No. I’m not really in the mood to change out of my pajamas.”

  “Emi, hon, I don’t care what you wear. Jack’s certainly not going to care.”

  “Good, then I won’t change,” I state, satisfied to simply remain comfortable.

  “Does that mean you’re going to watch with us?” he asks, walking to the kitchen.

  “We’ll play it by ear,” I say with little enthusiasm, leaning toward a ‘no’ but wanting to make it seem like I was trying. “But why don’t you guys go out to watch the game. Isn’t there a sports bar around here?”

  “Honestly, Emi, I think it will be good for you to get your mind on something else.”

  “And a hockey game with your friend is what you’ve come up with?”

  “He asked to watch the game with me. I didn’t figure you’d have an opinion. Did you want to do something else? I’ll tell him no and rent a movie or something, if you want. Or we can play poker...”

  “No, it’s fine, Chris. Hockey night with Jack is fine.” I have no intention of hanging around for that. I’m getting tired anyway.

  “Good,” he says.

  “Is Anna coming over, too?”

  “Yeah, for a little while.”

  “Cool.” Restless, I stand up and feebly follow my brother into the kitchen. “Is there any mac and cheese left?”

  “Sure,” he smiles. “Want me to get it for you?”

  “No, I’ll manage,” I mumble, hobbling to the fridge. “Did you want some?”

  “Yeah... why don’t we heat up some dinner.”

  “Okay.” We both look through the various plastic containers that were left by friends and family members, picking out things here and there that we like. Inevitably, all I want are casseroles and mac and cheese. At least, for once, food is sounding appetizing again.

  After dinner, I load the dishwasher with my one good arm while Chris cleans the rest of the kitchen. It feels good to do something productive. Even though it’s a small task, it just feels nice to contribute a little. I’ve grown so tired of being helpless.

  I sit back down in the living room as Chris turns on the pre-game show. Anna comes in a few minutes later, and Chris returns to the kitchen to heat up something for his fiancée to eat. She sits next to me on the couch and tells me a little about her day.

  “Did you sleep okay last night?” she asks. I remember back to the restless night, the dream... and for right now, I really just do want to keep the dream to myself. I smile, remembering the feeling that Nate was there with me.

  “I guess. Chris stayed with me, so that helped.”

  “He’s such a good guy,” Anna says.

  “I guess he’s an okay brother,” I tease as Chris makes his way back into the room.

  “What did I miss?”

  “Emi just told me you stayed with her last night. I thought it was sweet,” Anna tells him.

  Chris nods and smiles, bringing Anna her dinner. When she finishes eating, they both go back to the kitchen to clean up and discuss their day. The doorbell rings, and I stand up to get the door since I’m the closest one to it.

  “Emi, I got it,” Chris yells to me.

  “It’s fine!” I open the door, and Chris’s friend smiles warmly, wearing slacks and a white button-down shirt, the top button undone, making me feel monumentally underdressed in my pajamas. He’s holding a six-pack of beer in one hand and a bottle of Bellei Lambrusco in the other. Wine. God bless him. Maybe I’ll hang out for at least one glass.

  “Emi,” he says as I reach for the bottle of wine that he extends to me, his eyes quickly scanning my outfit. “How are you?”

  “Better now,” I laugh, looking down at the Lambrusco. “Did Chris call you?”

  “No,” he smiles. “Why?”

  “Oh. I had asked him for some earlier... and this is my favorite kind of wine.”

  “Well,” Jack begins, “you actually let me try it at the engagement party.” His voice trails off, his eyes shifting uncomfortably. I had forgotten about that conversation that we had at Chris’s party.

  Fuzzy fragments of memories jump around in my head. I doubt I would have remembered that if he hadn’t mentioned it, and still, it’s not very clear. “Oh, yeah,” I tell him, remembering the drink we had together while Nate’s band played. I remember the glance that Nate and I exchanged, remembered mouthing the words “I want you” to my boyfriend. I swallow, hoping to rid my throat of the lump. I struggle to smile, keep the tears away. People will always bring up things that remind me of him. I have to get used to this, somehow. I need to prepare myself for it, so it doesn’t come as a surprise, forcing the emotions to sneak up on me like this.

  I inhale deeply and breathe out slowly, my eyes intently focused on my house shoe.

  “I’m sorry,” he says with regret. “And, I don’t know, you probably shouldn’t drink it if you’re on pain medication,” he adds cautiously. “Are you in any pain?”

  “Am I in any pain?” I repeat the senseless question, although I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way.

  “That’s not what I–” He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “Again, I’m sorry. That was poorly... worded...” I can tell he feels awful, and I’m sure my caustic tone with him is only making it worse.

  I try to soften my response to put him at ease. “No, really, it’s okay... and thank you.” A tear escapes, but it’s just a lone one, as I gain a little control, composure. I wipe the tear away quickly and start to hobble toward the kitchen.

  “Let me carry that, Emi,” he says, taking the wine back.

  “Thanks,” I blush as he tucks the bottle under his arm. He also takes my bandaged arm and lets me lean on him, making my stroll to the kitchen that much easier.

  “Jack comes bearing gifts,” I announce after clearing my throat, shifting my balance away from my brother’s friend.

  “Fantastic,” Chris says, shaking hands with his friend. Anna hops off the kitchen counter and gives him a hug. I’m digging through their drawers, trying to find a wine bottle opener. Chris interrupts my search, holding out the tool I was desperately looking for. He glares at me, but smiles. “My sister, the wino,” he jokes.

  “She’s not on any medication?” Jack quietly directs his question to Chris. He’s trying to be discreet, but I hear him anyway and glare out of the corner of my eye. Chris looks at me for an answer.

  “I just took the aspirin when I got up this morning. It’s fine.”

  “You probably shouldn’t take anything tonight, then,” Jack says with concern, intercepting the corkscrew from Chris, “if you intend to have something now.”

  I nod. “Yes, doctor,” I mock him. He smiles faintly, looking down at me attentively, setting the bottle on the counter and maneuvering the utensil into the cork. “It’s been ages,” I tell him, suddenly self-conscious, justifying my thirst. When was the last time I had a drink? Before Christmas... maybe Christmas Eve? It seems so long ago. “Does anyone else want any?” I ask.

  “Me!” Anna says happily as the guys shake their heads. I find two glasses and set them on the counter. Jack pours the wine carefully and hands each of us a glass. Chris opens up two of the beers and hands one to Jack.

  “To a Rangers win,” he toasts, and we all drink.

  Feeling the need to be social since I’m drinking the gift Jack brought for me, the four of us settle into the living room to watch the game.

  I try to zone out, shrink back into my own head, but Jack actively engages us all in conversation. “Now, I don’t know if you knew this,” Jack begins as the puck drops, “but Chris and I used to play some drinking games when we’d watch hockey in college.”

  Chris moans. “I didn’t know that,” Anna says.

  “Yeah. We’d start the night by flipping a coin to see who would get the Rangers. Heads was Rangers, I think,” he says.

  “That’s right,” Chris says.

  “So we would have our shot glasses ready and a bottle of tequila on hand... it was one shot for pena
lties, two shots if the team on the penalty kill got scored on... we each had to drink if there was a fight, right?”

  “Yeah,” Chris laughs.

  “A goal for your team meant the other person had to drink another shot...” Jack laughs. “There was one game that was just penalty after penalty, goal after goal, fights... it had everything.”

  “Oh, god,” Chris says.

  “It ended in a shoot-out... now, we didn’t have any rules for shoot-outs, and we were both pretty gone by that point in the game.”

  “And the tequila was gone,” Chris adds.

  “Yeah, tequila was gone, I forgot about that,” Jack laughs. “So we decide that whosever team lost the shoot-out, that person had to run naked to the neighboring sorority house, knock on the door, and ask whatever girl opened the door out on a date– on the spot.”

  “Oh, god,” Chris repeats, laughing. Anna and I are giggling at the thought.

  “I guess Chris’s team lost...” I conclude, swallowing back my laughter. I immediately feel guilty.

  “No,” Jack says. “Mine lost.” He smiles, and Anna and I exchange confused glances.

  “Yeah, so he strips naked,” Chris says, “and walks confidently next door... knocks on the door. He’s so wasted that it didn’t phase him at all. And this girl opens the door.”

  “Kaylee,” Jack says. “Kaylee Milner...”

  “That’s right!” Chris says.

  “I got lucky...” My jaw drops. “Oh, no, not like that!” Jack adds, embarrassed at his choice of words, laughing. “I got lucky in that Kaylee already had a crush on me. So she actually said yes.”

  “And since we hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Chris adds, “Jack brings her back over to the frat house. They sit down on the couch next to me and just start making out.”

  “I’m not proud,” Jack says, shaking his head, laughing harder, “and it was probably a good thing when Chris threw up on her.”

  “Oh, my god, you didn’t,” I blurt out, looking at Chris incredulously. Anna and I erupt in laughter.

  “I did,” he blushes. “The tequila...”

  “Yeah, it was bad,” Jack adds, his eyes starting to water from laughing so hard. “And after he did, I ran to the bathroom and threw up myself. Oh, we were both so sick.”

  “Kaylee never gave him the time of day again,” Chris says.

  “And I think that was the last night we did the drinking game, too,” Jack adds.

  “Yeah. I don’t think I’ve had tequila since then, either.”

  “Yeah, now it’s only in moderation,” Jack confesses. “I’m too old to do that anymore.”

  “Too old,” Anna scoffs. “How old are you?” Anna asks.

  “Thirty-three,” he sighs.

  “Yes, so old,” Anna mocks him.

  “Okay, maybe I’ll go with too wise, not too old.”

  “I’ll give you that,” Anna says.

  Still smiling, I pick up my empty wine glass and start to get up for a refill. All three stand to assist me. “I’ve got it,” I assure them, making my way to the kitchen, stumbling only slightly over the pajama pants that are a little too long, hanging loosely from my thinner body. “Anyone want anything? Not that I can really carry more than one, but...”

  “Nothing for me,” Anna says.

  “Me, neither,” Chris adds.

  “I’ll get my own,” Jack responds, following me to the kitchen. He sees me struggling to get the cork out. “Give me that,” he laughs, taking the bottle from my hand.

  “I can do it,” I tell him.

  “I don’t mind,” he says, pouring another glass for me.

  “I hate being helpless,” I complain with a pout.

  “Well, the casts do render you a little helpless,” he says. “But I’m not really doing it to help you. I’m just trying to avoid an accident... Girl has a glass of wine. Girl hobbles on one leg. Oops, stumbles a little... Girl tries to open wine bottle with one hand. Girl loses balance. Girl drops bottle... or glass... or both... Boy standing next to her has to clean it all up.” He shakes his head. “I’d be less reluctant to help then, I think.”

  “Really?” I ask.

  “Yes, I might be too busy laughing.”

  “So I should take advantage of this, then?”

  “Yes,” he says, carefully placing the glass of wine into my good hand.

  “Well, then, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Emi,” he smiles quickly, grabbing another beer out of the refrigerator.

  “Any more stories about my brother?” I ask.

  “Plenty,” he assures me as he guides me back into the living room.

  By the time the game is over and Jack and Anna have left, I’m feeling a little bad... and a lot guilty. I laughed tonight... actually allowed myself to have a little fun. I’m sure the alcohol had a lot to do with that, but a part of me feels like I betrayed Nate... is it too soon to laugh like this? Too soon to spend an hour or two not thinking about him? I feel like it is. I’m sorry, Nate, I tell him, feeling certain he can hear me... feeling certain he witnessed the evening. I sit on the bed, staring through the window into the darkness outside. I see something move in the reflection of the glass. Chris is standing in the doorway, watching me.

  “You did really well tonight, Emi,” he tells me.

  I shake my head. “I think it’s too soon,” I tell him. “I feel bad for... laughing...”

  He walks in and sits on the bed next to me. “Don’t,” he says. “I think it’s good for you.”

  I shrug. “Do you think he’s watching me?”

  “I think he might... I’m sure he checks in with you, makes sure you’re okay. I bet he was happy to see you smiling tonight.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I do,” Chris says with confidence. “He would always rather see you smile... see you happy than sad... don’t you think?”

  “It sounds logical, it does... but I don’t want him to think I don’t miss him.”

  “Em, he knows that. No matter what,” he thinks for a second. “He knew how very much you loved him in life, Emi. He takes that with him... he has that love you gave him for eternity.”

  “But what does that mean for me, Chris?” I ask, feeling panic. “If he has all my love... am I just destined to be alone for the rest of my life?”

  “I don’t think he has all your love, Emi. He has all the love you could give him in his life... but you have so much more to give. You weren’t allotted a certain amount, and then that’s it...” he laughs quietly at the thought.

  “I just want him to have it all,” I tell him.

  “You can still love him, Emi,” he assures me, putting his arm around my shoulder. “That’s okay. Normal. No one is going to take that away from you. Someday, though, even he would want you to share that love with someone else. If that’s what made you happy.”

  “Thank you, Chris.” I smile, believing he’s right but still feeling a tinge of guilt.

  “Do you want me to stay in here tonight?” he asks.

  “Yeah, if you don’t mind... I’d really appreciate it.” I don’t want to need him, need his support, but I do. I want to be alone, but realize I’m in no state to be.

  “Sure thing, Em. I’ll be back in a few.”

  “Thanks.” As soon as he leaves, I find the tie and hold it closely to my nose, smelling the familiar, comfortable scent of Nate. My heart skips a beat, as if he is in the room with me.

  “Love ya, Nate,” I whisper, tucking the keepsake away. I close my eyes tightly, the vision of him coming back to me immediately. I’m back in his bed, and he leans over to kiss me, his body silhouetted by the blinding sunlight that filters through his windows. I love you too, Em.

  CHAPTER 3

  Every day I’m at Chris’s, I feel a tiny bit better, cry a tiny bit less. Chris has been beyond gracious, helpful... and I can’t thank Anna enough for letting me steal his time away from her. It’s been amazing, spending this time with my brother, getting to know ea
ch other again. I hadn’t realized how much of his life I had missed in the past few years as the distance grew between us. I feel closer to him now than I ever did, even when we moved away when our parents separated, when we could only find comfort and familiarity in each other.

  Today, I fear I will take a step or two backwards. Chris is driving me to Nate’s apartment. Donna called yesterday and asked if we could meet there. Talking to her on the phone was incredibly emotional. She cried just hearing my voice. I cried hearing the sadness in hers.

  “I’m going to go to the coffee shop,” Chris says as he pulls up to Nate’s building. “Just call me when you’re ready.”

  “Okay,” I say. As I emerge from his car, still bandaged, I am quickly greeted by Marcus, the doorman. First he hugs me, apologizing, obviously affected by Nate’s passing as well. He takes my arm and helps me into the building.

  “You look too skinny,” he tells me, smiling. “But beautiful as ever.”

  “Thanks. Is Donna here yet?”

  “Yes, she’s been here awhile. Do you need help getting up there?”

  “No, I can manage, but thank you.” He takes me to the elevator, pushes the button for the twelfth floor and waves goodbye.

  I take a few deep breaths before knocking. I try to imagine that he’s still in Vegas, remembering when I would come over here while he was out of town... just try to pretend that to get myself in the door, knowing that he’s not inside. Sometimes I have to play these mental games with myself. Maybe it’s not really healthy, but they help.

  I knock tentatively, lightly, a part of me hoping no one will answer and I’ll just be able to go back to Chris’s apartment and postpone this inevitable meeting for another day... if I could ever be more prepared for it.

  Donna opens the door, but again, I hardly recognize her. Her eyes are swollen, her hair brushed straight, and again she has no makeup on. She was always perfect before welcoming guests into her home or before going out on the town. She looks so much older, so sad, her eyes showing every ounce of sorrow that she’s feeling.

  “Oh, Emily,” she breaks down, embracing me tightly. I can’t help but cry. “How are you doing, honey?”