The Emi Lost & Found Series

by Lori L. Otto

  “We can talk about it later,” I smile as I pull up to the cabin, a warm glow emanating from the windows.

  “Did we have a fire going?” she asks.

  “I don’t remember,” I lie, opening the door.

  “Holy shit, Jack,” she says, covering her mouth. “What have you done?” The cabin is filled with literally hundreds of candles of all sizes, a light scent perfuming the air. Interspersed among them are small bouquets of white daisies. Her favorite artist plays quietly through small speakers scattered around both rooms. “Is this the ‘stuff?’ Is this Bill’s work?” she asks.

  “Let’s just say I couldn’t have done it without him. Come here.” I hold her hand and lead her into the bedroom, where they’ve set up a massage table replete with lotions and oils. “To alleviate your soreness.”

  “Are you going to give me a massage?” she asks.

  “I am. I didn’t realize how much you’d really need one after our dinner tonight, but I’m glad it worked out like this.”

  “Please, don’t worry about dinner,” she says. “It’s behind us, and I have a feeling Renee will talk some sense into Steven. I’m going to put on my robe,” she smiles. “You should do the same.” She pulls me with her into the closet and begins to take off my tie and unbutton my shirt. As I finish undressing, she moves to a corner of the room, her back to me, and pulls on the zipper that runs down her back, the dress easily falling to the ground. I just watch in awe, biting my bottom lip and inhaling deeply. She reaches her arms behind her back, a poor attempt at unfastening her bra, then turns her head around, blinking her lashes and smiling.

  “Can you help?” she asks.

  “Of course.” I unhook the undergarment, and she pulls herself up on the vanity, her bare legs dangling, her arms outstretched to me. I put my arms around her and kiss her, pulling her body into mine. She wraps her legs around me tightly and I lean her back gently to kiss her breasts... if I continue on this course, there will be no massage in the near future, and this is something I’ve been wanting to do for her... and for myself, wanting the chance to explore every inch of her milky skin with my hands. I remove her legs from my body and help her off the counter. “We can pick that back up later,” I tell her. “Come lie down on the table.”

  ~ * ~

  At the end of our stay in Colorado, it’s safe to say that both Emi and I are completely exhausted, but not anywhere near tired of each other. If anything, our time spent together just makes me want to be with her more. I’m not looking forward to going back to our separate lives and homes in New York, but I look forward to the possibility of another trip together in the near future.

  After breakfast on our final day, Emi excuses herself from the table to finish packing, leaving me alone with my parents for the first time.

  “Jacks, we had such a good time with everyone,” my dad says. “Thank you so much for doing this for us. You’ve always had such a good sense of family.”

  “I get that from you two,” I tell them. “I love doing it. I love seeing everyone together.”

  “Well, I’m sorry Steven’s been so distant,” my mother says. “I just don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

  “I’m not worried about it, Mom, so please, don’t you worry, either. We’ll work it out. We always do.”

  “I’m not worried about you at all, Jacks. Emi is simply precious. She’s beautiful, and she’s so sweet, too, and polite and open... and she’s genuine. The kids seem to adore her. That has to make you happy. She wants kids?”

  “Yes, she wants kids. We won’t see a replay of Caroline with this one.”

  “Most of all, Jacks, I can just see how happy she makes you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy.”

  “She’s everything I’ve ever wanted. I couldn’t ask for more.”

  “Do you think you’ll marry her?” my dad asks.

  “God, I hope so,” I laugh. “I don’t see it ending any other way. I can’t imagine my life without her... and I’m pretty sure she feels the same way.”

  “Have you talked about it?”

  “A little, maybe,” I tell them. “We have alluded to kids, and I’ve been thinking about it. But I like where we’re at right now. I mean, I feel like I’ve known her all my adult life. I’ve known of her... I’ve known this woman I thought she was, but I am still learning new things about her every day. And everything takes me one step closer to marrying her. But at this point, I want to enjoy this. I don’t want to rush anything. And I don’t feel like we’re missing out on anything.”

  “She did say something to me that made me think,” my mom tells me. “She said that, every day, she experiences a little bit of fear that it will all be over tomorrow. I think anyone that has lost someone so beloved, that it really makes you cherish every day... makes you not want to waste a second.”

  “She knows I love her,” I tell my parents. “She knows I would do anything for her. I would marry her tomorrow if she wanted it.”

  “If it were me,” my dad says, “I just wouldn’t let this one get away. Don’t wait too long.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t let her get away... and I won’t wait too long, but I’ve got to figure out how I’m going to do it, anyway... and I haven’t the slightest idea on that one.”

  “Well, I know you’ll think of something perfect.”

  “I hope.”

  “Well, Jacks, we love you. Will you come see us before Christmas?”

  “I’ll do my best. I’ve got a trip to Europe next month that could lead to a little more travel, but I’ll try.”

  “Well, bring Emi when you come.”

  “I’ll let her know she’s invited.”

  “Anytime,” my father says.

  “Have a safe trip back to Wyoming,” I tell them. “Call me when you get home so I know you made it safely.”

  “Okay, Jacks. You take care.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Four weeks later, Emi and I survey her half-empty apartment. “I can’t believe she’s gone,” she says, closing the door behind Jen after she had picked up the last of her things. “It’s going to be weird, being alone.”

  “You’ll be fine,” I tell her. “I think you’ll actually like it. You can drink out of the milk carton, play your music as loudly as you like, walk around naked...”

  “It’s so quiet,” she says. “We’re alone.”

  “Yes, we are... and there’s a brand new bed right over there. What do you think?” The new bed she picked out was delivered yesterday, and she and I had spent a few hours last night arranging the room around it. She wanted it to feel completely different in the space... after all, it was his home for many years, and the memories attached to it were still fresh enough to keep Emi from feeling comfortable being intimate with someone else in it. Last night, we were so tired after helping Jen with the move that we both just collapsed on her couch, the bed not even made up with sheets.

  “I’m not sure,” she says, contemplative.

  “Alright, then,” I say, smiling, understanding. “Not a problem. I’ve got some errands to run today, so can I pick you up tonight? We can go out, whatever you like.”

  “That sounds good. But, hey, can we talk about Europe really quick?” she says.

  “Of course.”

  “You really want me to go with you?”

  “I would love for you to, Em. You’ve never been and it would be a great opportunity for you. Lots of museums and beautiful old places... I’ll be busy during the week, but we could do whatever you wanted on the weekends. It’s a week in Paris, a week in Rome, and then a week in Madrid...”

  “I would love to just go photograph things over there,” she says. “And I’ve got some freelance to do, too, but I can do that anywhere.”

  “Well then come,” I encourage her. “You have the opportunity to spend your birthday in Madrid... come on... I don’t know why you’re even wavering.”

  “Because it’s three weeks. Aren’t you sick of me yet?”

&nbs
p; “God, no. Are you tired of me?”

  “No way,” she smiles. “Never.”

  “Does that mean you’ll come?”

  “Ummmm...” she says, deliberately teasing me. “Yes.”

  “Great.” I kiss her quickly. “So, tonight... I’ll pick you up at eight?”

  “Sounds perfect... hey, one last thing.”

  “Yeah?” I ask.

  “Jen left this... I thought you might like it... you know, just in case.” She drops a key into my open hand.

  “Really? To your loft?”

  “Yeah, you know. It’s not like we’re over here much anyway, but I want you to know that you’re welcome here anytime, any day...”

  “I’ll take it. Thanks, Emi.”

  “Love you,” she says with a slight bit of crimson pooling on her cheeks, her hands clasped behind her back.

  “Love you.” I put my hands on her waist and pull her into me for a longer, more passionate kiss.

  “Can’t wait until eight.” I kiss the top of her head before leaving.

  Onto the errands. She’s in for Europe. Now the question is where... Paris, Rome or Madrid. Paris is the City of Love, but is it too cliché? Will she see it coming? I think it’s too cliché. And if she did think I was going to propose, she would suspect it would be there... so if I don’t ask her to marry me in Paris, she’ll probably think I’m not going to.

  I’m not sure she’ll think that I would do this anyway. It has only been a few months. She knows I’m pretty practical and traditional. In a normal relationship, I would think it was too soon. But our relationship isn’t traditional, isn’t really normal, per se. And I wasn’t going to do it now, but after talking to my parents, it has really made me think. Why am I waiting, making her wait? Why am I putting this off? I want to start my life with her as my wife as soon as possible.

  And I do remember her saying one of her regrets with Nate was that they didn’t have more time together. Sure, we’re together now, but I want to show her my level of commitment to her... and I want to start a family with her.

  This trip to Europe is the perfect time and place.

  “I’m here to meet with Adrienne,” I tell the associate who greets me at the Harry Winston shop in Midtown. I hold in my hand a ring I took from Emi’s jewelry box that I’ve seen her wear from time to time, but not often enough to miss it.

  “Mr. Holland, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Adrienne has been expecting you. Right this way.” He leads me to the back of the store and offers me a seat at a desk. “She should be right over.”

  “Thank you.” All of a sudden, I feel nervous excitement, my hands actually shaking, my stomach jittery.

  “Mr. Holland? I’m Adrienne.”

  “It’s Jack,” I tell her, standing up, shaking her hand before she takes a seat across from me.

  “Well, Jack, what can I help you with today?” she asks.

  “I want to ask my girlfriend to marry me,” I tell her. “So I guess I need a ring.”

  “Well, congratulations,” she says. “Lucky girl.” She flashes a smile at me.

  “Thank you.”

  “What is her name?”

  “Emi. Short for Emily.”

  “Well, tell me about Emi,” she encourages. “It’ll give me an idea of where to start.”

  “She is beautiful,” I begin. “Strawberry blonde hair; these amazing green eyes; soft, porcelain skin.” I feel my heart rate quicken just thinking about her. My palms begin to sweat. “But she’s so much more than beautiful,” I add. “She’s funny... a little silly, at times. And so creative. She’s a graphic designer, very hard-working and driven. She would want something unique, I think, you know, because she’s a designer. I don’t think she would want an every day diamond solitaire, you know? And her eyes, they’re captivating... this beautiful green color...”

  “You are at Harry Winston,” Adrienne says. “And you keep mentioning her eyes.”

  “They’re incredible,” I laugh, feeling my face heat up.

  “Tell me a little more about her. Is she, say, very feminine, or does she play sports? What does she like to wear when she goes out?”

  “She’s pretty casual,” I continue, “comfortable in jeans... but she does like to get dressed up every once in awhile. And she looks amazing when she does. She’s confident and self-assured... she’s the strongest woman I’ve ever known. She’s a survivor...

  “And she’s very affectionate, very romantic. She... loves... like no one else can. I just feel it whenever I’m with her.”

  “Wow,” the sales associate says, “I hope some man says things like that about me someday.”

  “She’s everything to me. Hence the reason I need to marry her.”

  “I think I have the perfect ring,” Adrienne says, walking over to a locked cabinet and pulling out a few different boxes.

  “Now, I need you to have an open mind here. I’ve got a few options. I think this is really nice and distinctive, has a sort of vintage-feel to it.” She opens the box where a conservative, cushion-cut diamond ring sits atop a delicate platinum band. Two small, curved “V”s flank either side, each filled with diamonds.

  “It’s beautiful,” I agree, taking it and pushing it on the tip of my smallest finger. “Pretty traditional...”

  “I said to keep an open mind, right?” Adrienne asks. “You said unique... you mentioned she’s a designer. And she’s a survivor.” She smiles. “And something about green eyes?” She holds out a stunning platinum ring with a large, round, green stone, just a shade or two darker than her eyes. On the side is a small butterfly made of eight diamonds.

  “Wow,” I say, stunned at the sight of this unusual ring. I pick it up and hold it in my hands. The setting is unique. The stone is flawless, the facets glistening in the light. I slide the ring on the end of my finger to get a better idea of what it would look like on.

  “You’re good,” I tell her. “Is it too non-traditional?”

  “Is it her?” she asks the only question she needs to ask.

  “It is. This is perfect.”

  “You like it? Is the stone too large? We can do something custom, go smaller.”

  “No, it’s perfect. Now, what sort of wedding bands do you have that go with this?”

  “We would have to design something. This isn’t part of a set. But I’ve got a sketch,” she smiles. “I always loved this ring.” She returns to the cabinet and pulls out three more boxes and a small pad of paper. One band is just a matching platinum ring. The second has a few diamonds, spaced out strategically. The third is the one. It’s completely encircled in smaller round diamonds.

  “See, we could take a ring like this, and curve it here, to tuck into the engagement ring.” She traces along the sketch she had made.

  “Is it too much?” I ask for her advice.

  “It makes a statement,” she says. “I don’t know of a single woman that would turn down a proposal with that.”

  I exhale deeply, anxious, wondering how I won’t just pop the question the next time I see her. I can’t wait to give it to her, can’t wait to be engaged to her, to marry her...

  “Let’s do it,” I smile.

  When I get home, I look at the ring one more time before placing it in the safe. Next on the agenda... decide how I’m going to propose. We’ll be in Madrid on her birthday. Would she expect it on her birthday? I just want this to be a complete surprise.

  So, not on her birthday... I’ll get her something else, something really nice for her birthday... something that will certainly throw her off. Art. I’ll buy her a piece of art. There are tons of small galleries all over Europe. We can check them out on the weekends and I’ll just pay close attention to what she likes. It’s perfect.

  Still, where? Definitely in Spain, after her birthday. She will never see it coming. We’ll have a weekend there after my work is finished, so I’ll do it that weekend. I jump online and start looking at hotels, famo
us sites, good scenery...

  The Canary Islands. Tenerife. Perfect. Calling immediately for reservations. The only thing left to do is talk to her parents.

  Full of energy, I rap quickly on her door at five till eight.

  “You didn’t have to knock,” Emi says when she answers. “I gave you a key for a reason.”

  “Well, if you’re here, I might as well be polite, and knock.”

  “But you don’t have to,” she instructs me.

  “Alright, maybe next time I won’t. Maybe.”

  I pull her into me and embrace her tightly, overflowing with excitement that I cannot contain.

  “Kiss me, Em,” I tell her, leaning in to steal a kiss from her willing lips. Without separating, I pick her up and cradle her in my arms, carrying her over to the new bed, now made up with new linens, and laying her down gently.

  “What’s gotten into you?” she laughs.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, lying down on my side, next to her, my hand on her stomach, barely lifting her shirt to touch her skin. “Can’t a man be excited to see the woman he loves?”

  “I guess so,” she smiles.

  I move closer to her, slide my hand up the back of her shirt, put my leg in between hers. A deeper kiss ensues. Thoughts of us together, engaged, on a foreign beach under the warm sun play in my head. I cannot wait.

  “What would you like to do tonight?” I ask her. “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat,” she says. “This is nice, too, though.” She kisses me again.

  “Is it okay?” I whisper in her ear before taking her lobe gently between my teeth. “Here, I mean?”

  “I don’t know,” she says. “Maybe?”

  “Maybe?” I ask.

  “It still feels a little weird, I guess.”

  “Alright,” I sigh. “Let’s go get some dinner. And pack some things, you’re coming over tonight.”

  “I’m going to stay at your place on the first night I’m alone?”

  “I hope so,” I encourage her. “I’d like to be with you tonight... and if this place still feels strange, I’d like to go somewhere that feels... normal. Comfortable, even.”