by Lori L. Otto
“Uhhh...” Jack says before letting out a small laugh.
“Yeah,” I retort, bitterness oozing from my throat.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go grab a bite to eat?”
“I’m sure,” I tell him, taking a deep breath and grabbing my bag off of his shoulder. “This is my life.” I open the door briskly and walk in. As I turn around to close the door, he looks at me, confused, and I tell him good night.
“Bye, Em.”
I keep my head down as I walk to the dresser to get some pajamas. Teresa and her boyfriend don’t even act like I’m in the room, although I know I made enough noise to make them aware. Quickly, I go into the bathroom, turn on the radio and start running water for a shower. Hopefully that will give them enough time to finish what they’re doing.
As I stand under the hot tap water, I consider my options. It seems pretty clear what I need to do. I need to acquaint myself with Nate’s apartment again... need to accept it as my home... need to get out of this situation before it drives me crazy.
~ * ~
Two weeks pass, and the occasional night of sex continues in the apartment. I don’t know how I ever stood it before. Their feeble attempts to be quiet, discreet, they just aren’t good enough. I don’t know if I’m angry because I’m not having sex, or if I’ve just reached my breaking point with her lifestyle, but I don’t think I can stay here much longer. I feel like I’ve been changed too much to go back to this life. I’m not the person I used to be.
As I’m working one afternoon, the phone rings.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Emi, it’s Jen,” my sister says.
“Hey, Jennifer, what’s up?”
“Nothing,” she speaks, her voice wavering, noticeably upset.
“What’s wrong?”
“Michael...”
“Michael what?” I ask.
“We’ve decided to separate,” she cries. “It’s just not working out.”
“Oh, Jen, I’m so sorry. What happened?”
“He just doesn’t think he loves me anymore,” she tells me. “He’s bored with me.”
“That asshole,” I mumble. I never liked him.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at home,” she says. “I have to go pick Clara up from Pre-K in an hour.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Listen, why don’t you pick up Clara and come over. I’ll make some dinner and we can talk about it.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” I assure her.
“Thanks, Emi.”
As I wait for my sister and niece to arrive, I straighten up the apartment. As I’m making the bed, I have an idea. I iron out the details in my mind and think that Jennifer will definitely go for it. They show up a short while later.
“Clara-bee!” I say, squatting to pick up my niece and twirling her around. I set her down on the couch in front of the television, currently tuned to an educational channel. She is immediately enthralled. I hug my sister and offer her a glass of wine and a box of tissues. In the kitchen, as I make dinner, she tells me about their recent fights, hurtful things that were said... things that just can’t be taken back, and will likely end their relationship for good.
“I think you’re better off without him,” I tell my sister. I know that she doesn’t want another marriage to fail, but they were never good for one another. They eloped so quickly that no one was able to talk any sense into her before they exchanged vows.
“Deep down,” she admits, “I know you’re right. It’s just hard... to be alone...”
I shake my head, give her a knowing smile. “So I have an idea.”
“I’m listening,” she says.
“Well... I’m thinking about moving into Nate’s apartment.”
“Do you think you’re ready for that?”
“No,” I tell her. “Not alone, I’m not, but...”
“Us?”
“Yeah. Maybe you and Clara could move in with me... we could start to make the place mine, create some new memories there... and you could see if the separation is what’s best for you... I know the drive to Clara’s school would be far, but it’ll be summer soon, so you won’t have to worry about it for long...”
“Are you sure, Emi?”
I smile, feeling strangely hopeful. “I’m positive. Please, Jen. Let’s do this... for both of us.”
She shrugs, smiles back at me, and I can see hope in her eyes, too. “Okay!”
CHAPTER 5
Last week, in preparation for the big move, I invited Donna to the apartment to go through some of Nate’s things, take items that should stay in her family, things that have sentimental value to her. She encouraged me to keep the furniture, and told me it would be okay if I took the art down. I can’t bear the thought of that, though. I wouldn’t want it anywhere else. Seeing his art makes me happy... the paintings were a part of him, so they’re really something he’s left behind for us to enjoy; to bring us fond memories. We’ve boxed up his clothes, keeping an item or two to ourselves. The rest of the things, we have decided, are going to a local shelter. When Donna leaves, she tells me that I can do whatever I want with anything that’s left. We agree to meet for coffee in the next couple of weeks.
I’m now returning home with new linens for the bed. I desperately hope that this will make it okay to sleep in it. I had offered that bed to Jen and Clara, but Jen insisted on taking the smaller guest bedroom. I unpack the sheets and throw them in the washer.
Teresa was upset at first when I told her I was moving out. She was stressing about how she would be able to afford the rent and utilities on her own. A few days later, she announced that Bradley was moving in with her, which would be a much better arrangement for her in the end– as long as they stayed together. He and his firefighter friends helped to move my stuff this morning.
Michael helped Jennifer pack her things, happy that he would get to stay in the house. It was his house to begin with, so I don’t think he ever had any intention of moving out in the first place. Jen had hopes that this would just be a trial separation, but in my heart, I think it’s over. And I think it’s best, especially with Clara in the picture. I can remember the fights our parents had when we were younger. It was difficult to live at home at times. For Clara’s sake, I’d love to see her grow up in a happy household.
My sister and niece will be moving in tomorrow. We decided it would be best for me to get my stuff in and start unloading a day in advance, to alleviate a little bit of chaos. What that means for me is that I have to spend my first night here alone. Chris would be calling me later, I was sure... likely multiple times. He had been worried, had even offered to come stay with me tonight, but I really do want to try to do this on my own.
I sort through the boxes, unpacking things here and there, and before I know it, the apartment begins to look and feel different. Maybe I will be able to make this loft my home. I turn on some music and just focus on what I have to do, and the day, evening, they both pass quickly. By eleven, I’m tired– but still not certain that I’ll be able to fall asleep without difficulty... no matter what the place looks like, there are memories of him everywhere. I go to turn on the bath water, and as I’m walking to grab my pajamas, someone knocks at the door. All of a sudden, I realize Chris hasn’t called at all tonight... and then it dawns on me that I probably never turned the ringer on today. I have been way too busy to even think about that.
Through the peephole, I see Jack and laugh to myself. I open the door quickly.
“What?” I ask, smiling, knowing exactly why he is here and exactly who sent him.
“We’ve all been calling...”
“I know,” I confess. “I guess my ringer was turned off. I’m sorry.”
“Are you doing okay?” he asks, lingering in the doorway.
“Fine,” I tell him.
“You look good.”
“No, I look like hell,” I correct hi
m, running my hands through my messy hair. “Come in... let me go turn off the faucet.” His hands in his pockets, he ambles through the doorway. “Do you need to call Chris?” I yell from the other room.
“Just texted him,” he hollers back.
“I was just going to take a bath,” I tell him. “I feel like I have dust all over me.”
“Well, don’t let me stop you,” he says. “I just wanted to make sure you were getting settled okay. I’ll go.”
“No,” I say quickly, secretly thankful that he came, that someone came over tonight. I know I will benefit from a little distraction. “You came all this way. What’s your drink of choice?”
“Do you have any beer?” he asks.
“Yep. Just stocked up at the store for the awesome firefighter movers.”
“Excellent.”
I grab a beer from the refrigerator and take it to him. “Feel free to have a seat.”
“Thanks. Do you need help with anything? Hanging pictures, moving heavy objects?”
“No, I think I’ve got that taken care of already... so where do you live?”
“Upper West Side,” he says.
“You didn’t walk all the way over here, did you?”
“No,” he laughs sheepishly. “I was actually on a date when Chris called me.”
“You’re kidding me...”
“No,” he says. “Is that so unbelievable?”
“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant,” I explain. “Where is she?”
“I dropped her off at her apartment.”
“Well, please, I’m sorry... please, get back to your date,” I encourage him. “If I had realized–”
“No, don’t make me!” he says. “It was awful. I was so thankful Chris called. It couldn’t have ended soon enough.”
We both laugh. “Oh, okay. What happened?”
“Oh, god,” he sighs. “It was a blind date. Russell, my college roommate, set us up.” He groans.
“That bad?”
“I don’t know what he was thinking,” he says. “The only thing she had going for her was her looks, and that’s just not enough for me.”
“Yeah, you seem like a guy who likes a little substance,” I tell him.
“A lot of substance,” he corrects me. “I’ve been told I’m too picky... that my standards are too high.”
“I’ve been told that, as well,” I smile. I was just lucky that Nate met all those standards. Well, he was the standard. I swallow thoughtfully. “I think it’s okay to have high standards.”
“Okay, maybe, but it sure limits your love life,” he laughs.
“Yeah, but when you find her, it’ll be great.”
“Hope so,” he says, finishing his beer, looking around the apartment. He reaches for the photo album that’s sitting on the coffee table... then retreats, realizing what it is.
“Um, do you want another drink?” I ask him, my attempt to distract him as I move the book to the shelf across the room. I need to find a special place for that.
“I don’t want to keep you from your bath,” he says.
“I can get you a beer and take a bath, you know. As long as you don’t think I’m being a bad hostess.”
“Well, then, sure, I’ll take another.”
“Okay, make yourself at home,” I tell him. “I don’t have a whole lot to eat, but you can probably find something... and here’s the remote.”
I pour myself a glass of wine and head back to the bathroom, turning on the hot water again to fill the jacuzzi. As I climb in, I can’t help but reflect on the memories of Nate, particularly our night together in this very tub. That night was raw and instinctive and passionate. Everything was still new to us. We conceived a child that night. The lump in my throat threatens to surface, but I force a smile, remembering how happy I had been with Nate, not just when we were dating, but for years. I remember his smile, the way he looked at me when he kissed me. Focus on the happy times. That’s what I have to do to move forward. He would want me to remember him this way, and I intend to honor that.
I slowly drink my wine and relax in the hot water, soothing my sore muscles after a long day of moving and unpacking. After about a half hour, I remember that Jack is still here and decide to get out and be social with my guest. I dry off and put on some flannel pants and a t-shirt, and then I put my robe on over that.
“What are we watching?” I ask as I walk past him in front of the refrigerator, making my way to the couch.
“News,” he tells me. “I’m feeling out of touch. Is it okay if I have one more?” I nod my head and adjust a throw pillow on the couch, cuddling with it, waiting for him to return from the kitchen. I notice his phone vibrate and light up on the couch next to me. I don’t mean to look, but the message is from my brother, and short enough for me to read in one sideways glance.
“Sure you don’t mind staying with her for awhile?”
A part of me wants to admit that I read it, wants me to encourage him to go. I don’t want him to feel obligated to stay and essentially babysit me... but another part of me wants him to hang around a little longer. It feels good having someone here. The more I think about it, the more I’m not sure I’m ready to be alone tonight.
He picks up his phone and glances down at it as I pull my feet up on the couch, tucking them closely into my body to not invade his personal space. I avoid his eye contact when I feel him looking over at me, afraid that he’ll choose to go. I’d really like him to stay. After a few minutes, he clears his throat and makes comments on the news stories here and there, but over time, I find it difficult to keep my eyes open.
“Emi?” someone says softly, the apartment dark. It takes me a second to realize where I am, who is talking to me, whose lap my feet are in–
“Oh, crap!” I say, sitting up immediately and pulling my legs to the floor. “I’m so sorry, Jack, did I fall asleep?”
“Yes,” he laughs. “You’ve been out for hours. I dozed off, too.”
“What time is it?” I ask.
“It’s four in the morning.”
“Oh, my god! You didn’t have to stay,” I explain.
“I didn’t mean to, Emi. I dozed off, too,” he repeats. “I just wanted to let you know I was going so you could lock up behind me.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “I hope you didn’t have any plans this morning...”
“Actually, I do,” he laughs. “But I’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me.” He picks up his bottles and puts them on the island on his way to the door.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” I reiterate.
“Stop apologizing, Emi! It’s fine!” he laughs.
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. Are you going to be okay?”
“Yes,” I tell him, and I know that I will go right back to sleep.
“Alright, sleep well,” he says, smiling.
“Be careful,” I tell him. “And thank you.”
“My pleasure.” I close the door and lock it after he leaves. I walk to the bed, pull off the comforter and take it over to the couch to go back to sleep.
Someone poking me on the shoulder wakes me up. My whole body aches as I try to move my limbs. Groggily, I open my eyes and leap into an upright position when I see a face only inches from mine.
“Anni-Emi?” my niece says, realizing she scared me.
“Clara! What are you doing here?” I sweep her into my lap and kiss her on the cheek.
“We used the key,” Jennifer says apologetically. “I knocked but you didn’t answer.”
“Sleeping,” I explain. “Really well, apparently. I don’t think I’ve moved at all since I laid down... sorry about that.”
“Well, are you ready for us? The truck is downstairs.”
“Of course, I’ll pull on some clothes to help. I cleared out the guest room for you and arranged it like we talked about.”
“Thank you,” she says.
We spend the day directing movers and unpacking boxes. The move goes smoothly,
and the apartment looks less and less like Nate’s as the day wears on. I make sandwiches for the three of us and we all take a break from the hectic day.
“So,” my sister begins. “You slept on the couch?”
“Well, I didn’t mean to,” I tell her. “Funny story.”
“Love to hear it...”
“I guess everyone was calling yesterday, and my ringer was off, so Chris sent Jack here. He stayed for awhile and had a beer while we watched some TV... and apparently I fell asleep on the couch... he woke me up at four.”
“He stayed over?” she asked.
“He didn’t mean to. He fell asleep, too... but he woke me up and after he left, I just decided to go back to the couch where I was already comfortable.”
“Mm-hmm,” Jennifer says skeptically. “Pretty sure Chris put him up to that...”
“Maybe,” I respond vaguely, not wanting to admit that I saw the text that my brother had sent.
“And you’re sleeping where tonight?” my sister asks.
“Nate’s bed... I think... I’m going to try.”
“Good. It’s your bed, Em. It’ll be okay.”
“I know. It doesn’t really even look like his bed anymore. I just know... but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Atta girl,” she says.
“Emi?” Clara asks.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Can I sleep with you?”
“Clara,” Jennifer says, “we have our own bed in there, remember?” She gestures toward the guest room.
“I know, but I want to sleep with Emi and Nate-Nate like last time.” Jennifer looks at me, worried. It is true that the last time Clara stayed here a few weeks before he died, she slept in between Nate and I when she came down with a cold. I smile warmly at my niece.
“Well, Clara,” I say softly. “Remember, Nate-Nate’s not here.” Every so often, we have to remind her that Nate is gone. Still, she doesn’t comprehend what happened to him, but she is finally accepting of his absence. She just has to be reminded every once in awhile.