by Lori L. Otto
“Really good,” she says. “I guess now I don’t have to beg to let Brian go with us to lunch,” she laughs, nodding in my direction.
“Ditto,” Emi says.
“Did you two have a good night?”
“Yep,” Emi says flippantly, avoiding eye contact with Jen, dropping her bag on her bed and sitting down. I stand in the middle of the room, hands in pockets.
“Yep?” Jen repeats, giving me a sideways glance. I can’t hold back my smile. Her sister grins back at me, knowingly. I feel a bit of relief. After the discouraging conversations I had with Chris yesterday, I feel– in that moment– that Jen is going to be my biggest ally.
“The three of us are starving,” Jen says as Clara peeks out from the guest bedroom. “Are you two hungry?”
Emi looks up at me and I nod. “I could definitely eat.”
“Let me put a little makeup on,” Emi says, standing and straightening out her sweater before crossing the room and going into the restroom. A sigh escapes my lips as I touch the stubble on my chin, still in moderate disbelief that any of this is happening.
“Wow,” Jen says. “You are definitely under her spell.” She laughs. “Is she okay?” Her solicitous tone makes it evident that she’s talking about how Emi had coped with the anniversary of Nate’s death.
“I think so,” I nod, forcing the memory of her calling his name in her sleep out of my mind. “Yes, I definitely think so.”
“Good,” she smiles. “Just ignore Chris,” she adds. “I talked to him last night. I yelled at him for butting in... it wasn’t his place.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “He’s just worried about her.”
“Well, he was an ass to say anything to you.”
“Already forgiven,” I tell her. “But thanks for saying so.”
“Clara, are you ready?” Jen’s daughter, with hair the color of Emi’s, nods shyly. “Come out here then! You remember Jack, don’t you?” She nods again, dashing to her mother’s side, wearing a tutu over her jeans. “She won’t take that off,” Jen explains as I laugh. Emi comes out of the bathroom, looking perfectly put together, watching me from across the room.
“Because it’s cute!” Clara contends.
I kneel down on her level. “You’re just as silly as your aunt.” She giggles and does a few ballet steps, still half-way hiding behind Jen. Emi laughs. “Do you get that from Clara?” I ask her, standing to meet her.
“She is cute...” she admits walking toward me. “Maybe.”
“You look beautiful,” I whisper before kissing her on the cheek.
“You’re gorgeous,” she says back to me, her hand lingering on my chest. I take her head in my hands and kiss her, lightly first, knowing she’ll return immediately for a deeper kiss, her warm tongue playing with mine. Jen clears her throat, but I’m ruled by Emi, not her sister, so I continue with our kiss until she breaks away.
“That wasn’t exactly G-rated,” Jen jokes with Emi.
“No, it wasn’t,” Emi brags, touching her lips and smiling, then putting her hands behind her back and taking mine in hers, walking me across the room. Brian stands and turns the television off.
“Sorry,” I apologize as I pass Jen and Clara.
“Are you kidding?” her sister says. “It’s about time.” Emi slaps her on the arm, grabbing her keys and leading the rest of us out of the apartment.
“Clara,” I ask as we settle into a large booth at the highly-rated American restaurant across Manhattan, nestled in the Upper West Side. “What did you do last night?”
“Watched a movie,” she said shyly. “And I made cookies with Erin.” She stares at her plate of food, the cheeseburger easily twice as big as her small hands. I cut the burger into quarters for her, and she happily picks one up and starts to eat.
Emi puts her hand on my knee, and when I look at her, she’s smiling at me.
“Thank you, Jack,” Jen says. “You’ve had practice, huh?”
“Just a tad.”
“Is he your boyfriend?” Clara asks Emi with a giggle. You have to love five-year-olds. They ask all the questions everyone else is too afraid to ask.
I raise one eyebrow and watch Emi, letting her answer. She touches my chin lightly and kisses me, a completely unexpected move, and simply nods, her eyes engaging mine. I kiss her once more.
“Ewww!” Emi’s niece exclaims. “Gross. Kissing boys is gross.”
“Not this one,” Emi tells her laughing.
“All of them!” Clara argues as Brian laughs at her comment.
“Clara,” Jen says, “that’s not a very nice thing to say to Jack. Your Anni-Emi likes him. Can you say you’re sorry?”
“I’m sorry,” she says with a pout.
“I forgive you,” I tell her. “You know, Jacqueline told me the other day that you’re in her gymnastics class now.” Clara nods. “What’s your favorite part?”
“The balance beam,” she says, eating a french fry. “No, the trampoline!” she says with more excitement.
“I know Jackie likes the trampoline, too. That is pretty fun.”
“She said she has one at home,” Clara adds.
“She does,” I tell her. “You know, I bet she and Maddie would love to have you over some time to play.”
“Can I Mommy?” she asks.
“Don’t they still live in Westchester?” Jen asks me.
“They do... I go up there every other weekend or so. Maybe we could all head up there one Saturday.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Kelly would love it. She loves entertaining.”
“Well, that would be nice, thank you,” Jen says, nodding to Brian. Emi leans into me when she’s finished eating her lunch. I put my arm around her, rubbing her shoulder.
“So, Clara-bee, what do you think of Brian?” Emi asks.
“He’s on her good list,” Jen answers for her daughter.
“Clara,” Emi starts, “do you think he is good enough for your mommy?”
“He’s nice,” she says, a broad smile forming on her cherub face. “He brought me a tiara!”
“A ‘Happy New Year’ tiara,” Brian elaborates.
“Sweet, right?” Jen adds.
“That was thoughtful,” Emi says, smiling, resting her head on my shoulder.
“Are you tired?” I ask her.
“I’m exhausted all of a sudden,” she says. “I guess last night is catching up with me.” I knew she was referring to the late night she spent crying, telling me about the conversations she had with her therapist, finally reconciling feelings she had been clinging to for months. I could tell from Jen’s expression that she had interpreted Emi’s comment as something else. Emi was too tired to even notice.
“Well, let’s get you back home, then.” We slide out of the booth after paying the waiter and begin the ten-block walk back to her apartment. Jen and Emi walk on either side of Brian, listening to the premise for his latest novel. Clara and I follow, and when we get to the crosswalk, she grabs my fingers with her small hand before we cross the street. Jen and Brian both turn around to check on her, and a thankful expression fills Emi’s sister’s eyes.
“I think we’re going to walk over to Brian’s for a little bit to watch some football,” Jen announces. “You’re both welcome to come.”
“I’m too tired,” Emi answers. “Do you want us to take Clara?”
“No,” Jen answers. “That’s okay.”
“I’ve invited some friends to bring their families over. A few of them have kids about Clara’s age,” Brian adds. “If you change your mind, just let us know.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, shaking his hand again and hugging Jen goodbye while Emi kisses Clara on both cheeks. We part ways and head back to Emi’s apartment, enjoying the crisp winter air.
“So what did you think?” Emi asks me after getting back to her loft.
“I think he’s good for her. He seems sensible. And very secure.”
“He reminds me of y
ou,” she says, “how sensible he is. He seems like a real grown up. Like you.”
“Well, you and your sister can both be a little silly from time to time... sensible men are the perfect compliment to that.”
“Hey!” she says, playfully slapping my arm.
“Are you not? Miss ‘My Boyfriend Had To Carry Me Halfway To My Apartment Because My Shoes Were Too Cute For My Aching Feet?’”
“Thanks for that, by the way,” she laughs. “I said I’d pay for a cab, you just have that aversion to public transportation.”
“It’s not an aversion,” I argue. “I just wanted to spend as much time touching you before bringing you here.”
“What does that mean?” she asks, looking offended.
“You tend to pull away whenever we come here,” I explain. “It’s fine. I’ve come to expect it.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, Poppet, you do. We always seem to be more... friendly... less intimate when we’re here. It’s fine.” I pour her a glass of wine and grab a beer for myself, heading to her couch.
“That’s only because Jen and Clara are typically here... what do you expect then?”
“Like I said, I don’t expect you to be intimate with me at all when we come here. And again... it’s fine. I like being your friend, too.”
She looks down into her glass, swirling it around thoughtfully.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, realizing the truth in my claim. “Does it make you feel better if I tell you that you’re my best friend?” She smiles.
“Much. Although I never felt bad in the first place... but this is why I like my house infinitely better than your apartment.”
“I like this place.”
“I know you do,” I tell her with an accepting tone. “Tell me, though, what is it about it that you like so much?”
“It’s peaceful, and calming... and inspiring.”
“Okay.” I don’t press the issue any further. I know it reminds her of him. I don’t know how long she’ll feel the need to hold on to those memories, but it’s not my place to broach the subject of letting go of them. Not now, anyway. Letting go of the memories would mean letting go of Nate, and that has to be her decision to make. If she’s not ready yet, surely she will be soon. I’ll continue to wait, but I’ll do everything to make sure she knows I’m the best man for her. I don’t need her to let go of those memories today to know that she loves me... and really, that’s all that matters. She loves me.
She squeezes my hand before hitting the play button on the remote control. “What are we watching this afternoon?”
“Finding Nemo,” she says as I follow with a groan.
“Sexy,” I comment, glancing out of the corner of my eye. “Glad I came over with no expectations.”
“You know you think Dory’s hot...”
“No, not hot at all... I believe in guy-speak we would say she has a good personality. Even that would be a stretch... little annoying...”
“She’s funny!” Emi argues.
“S-I-L-L-Y,” I spell out to her, touching her nose lightly.
“But you L-O-V-E-M-E,” she returns.
“I must if I’m going to sit through this again.” She kneels on the couch next to me and kisses my cheek before pulling a pillow into my lap and laying her head down on it. I spend most of the movie watching her, how her eyes light up, how her dimples bury themselves into her cheeks when she laughs.
CHAPTER 2
“Thank you,” Emi says, taking the signed Mark Messier jersey from me before letting me into her loft. She had found the sweater a week ago when she was nosing through my closet for a shirt she could sleep in. I had planned on framing it and hanging it in the game room in the basement, but I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet. “You sure you don’t mind me wearing it to the hockey game?”
The jersey was better suited on her than enclosed in an air-tight frame. The thought that her scent would linger on it made it that much more valuable– to me. “Not at all, Poppet. Although it will swallow you whole.” She weaves her fingers between mine, pulling me toward her, brushing her soft lips against my own. “Mmmm, you keep doing that, you can have anything you want from me.”
“Anything?” she mumbles, her lips now moving in sync with mine, just as needy. We hadn’t made love in five agonizing days. I missed the feel of... her.
“Yes, anything,” I answer, dropping my keys onto the hardwood floor and putting my arms around her, pulling her body into mine. “Where’s Jen?” I whisper between breaths.
“They were staying at his apartment,” she says softly back to me, the jersey now on the floor with my keys and her hands on both sides of my face, holding my lips to hers. She starts walking backwards toward the bed. Although intimacy was never a problem at my house, we had done little more than kiss at her loft since we talked about our time spent here on New Year’s Day. Today, it seems she’s open to trying.
“All weekend?” I ask, lifting her quickly and carrying her to the bed.
She kicks playfully as I set her down against the pillows, gently lying down beside her. “I think so,” she answers, dragging her fingers through my hair as I kiss her neck. “Clara’s at mom’s, so I think she was going to stay with him.”
“Lucky for us,” I say, finding her lips again. “We can come back here after the game.”
“But you don’t have anything with you,” she counters.
“I have everything I need for what I want to do,” I inform her, positioning my legs in between hers and hovering over her body, my eyes communicating my insatiable desire for her.
“No,” she says with a whine. “You’ll be uncomfortable.” She pushes against my chest gently, playfully.
“Not at all,” I tell her with a smile, kissing her deeply to keep her from arguing with me any more. I allow the weight of my body to settle on hers and laugh silently to myself. Uncomfortable doing this? She pulls her arms to her side and eventually turns her head away from me. “What?” I whisper into her ear before kissing it.
“I mean, you won’t have any clothes or anything.”
“I don’t need them.” I turn her face back to mine and kiss her again, pressing against her softly.
“Jack,” she pleads as I feel her begin to pull away emotionally.
So maybe she’s not open to trying... but I’m not ready to let go of the idea so soon. I want her to feel comfortable, at home with me here, in her loft. I have lucid visions of us making love to one another here, our expression of devotion lit only by the moonlight and the expanse of the Manhattan skyline that’s clearly visible from her floor-to-ceiling windows. “We can stop by my house and I’ll pick up a few things after the game. How’s that?”
Her eyes look away briefly and she begins to smile. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I ask. She nods as she pushes me back onto the bed and climbs on top of me, sitting up.
“I have to finish getting ready,” she says as she leans down and gives me a peck on the cheek before getting off the bed and heading to the dining room to pick up the jersey.
“Can you do that in here?” I ask, still turned on and wanting her back in my arms. She rolls her eyes at me, but flutters her eyelashes and moves to stand in front of her dresser. With her back to me, she slowly takes off the sweater she had been wearing. She smiles at me, watches me watching her in the mirror, her cheeks turning a darker shade of pink. Her hands go back to the hem of her t-shirt, and she takes that off next. As she turns her body around to face me, I go to the edge of the bed, grab both of her arms and pull her on top of me.
“Jack,” she laughs. “We’ll be late to the game!”
“What game?” I move on top of her and unfasten her bra, kiss her breasts, breathe in her scent. I knew I missed her, but hadn’t realized how badly until this very moment.
“My brother and sister will be waiting.”
“I left their tickets at will-call. Emi, let me make love to you, I have missed you.”
“Ton
ight,” she sighs, giving me a kiss, a promise, that is meant to last until then, I’m sure. “Not now. I don’t want to have to shower and everything again.”
“Why are you being the practical one?” I ask, pulling away abruptly.
“It’s just...” she stammers. “I don’t want...”
“You don’t want what? You don’t want to do this?”
“Of course I want to do this. I just don’t want to be late,” she states pertly, shoving me off of her and refastening her bra. She pulls on a long-sleeved t-shirt before dressing in the hockey jersey that completely hides her feminine figure from me. As if sensing my disappointment, which I’m trying to hide from her, she strides back over to the edge of the bed and runs her fingers through my hair. I stand up and embrace her into my body, gathering the extra fabric of the jersey in my hand so I can see her curves in the mirror. I kiss her neck, watch and feel her muscles slightly falter at the sensation.
“I hate this jersey on you,” I whisper with a sly grin, dropping the shirt from my hand. The hem of it drops just above her knees.
“Well, I’ll let you do the honors later,” she says, unbuttoning the third button on my dress shirt and patting it gently as if to tell me to leave it that way. I glance at myself in the mirror as she goes to find her shoes. My hands move to fix the hair she has left a little unruly. “Nope,” she says as she grabs my arm. “You look perfect. You’re not meeting with clients, you’re going to a hockey game.”
“Alright, alright,” I concede, facing her and away from the mirror. “It just looks like we’ve been fooling around.”
“Well, we have been,” she raises her eyebrows. “Now, you’re just a reminder of what I have to look forward to after the game.”
“I can give you lots of reminders,” I tell her, kissing her once more as she grabs her purse and tote. She takes my hand in hers and leads me to the door. I pick up my keys along the way. “One more?” I ask, twirling her into my arms. Her palm traces my jawline, her eyes look into mine adoringly and she stands on her tiptoes to meet my lips.