The Emi Lost & Found Series

by Lori L. Otto

  How things have changed in the past couple of months. When I found out Jen was moving out, I didn’t feel the time was right for us to move in together. But now, so much has been forever altered. We are different people now. My desire to take care of her has become a need. I don’t ever want her to be alone again. I don’t ever want her to go to that sad place, the place where she feels abandoned, depressed, inadequate, unworthy of love.

  I have no idea how she would feel about leaving this loft. I’m unsure how to bring it up. Is she holding on to it... for him? There are so many things to consider.

  I find her computer and her silk robe, the only two things on her wish list, and put them in a piece of luggage left behind on her bed. I find some lounge pants and soft shirts in her lingerie drawer and pack them, too. A paperback book sits on her nightstand, a bookmark in the first half of the book, and I decide to bring that to her, as well.

  Before I leave, I throw out the daisies I brought her last week for her birthday, sadly wilted and shriveling in a vase. I decide to stop and get her some fresh flowers and wine before heading home.

  Traffic is particularly bad today, so it takes a lot longer to get home than I had anticipated. Chris’s car is in the driveway when I reach the brownstone. Anna greets me with a smile from the kitchen when I walk in.

  “Hey, Anna, what are you doing here?” I say to her warmly, happy to see her.

  “Jack, welcome home! Did you have a nice trip?”

  “I did. I especially enjoyed the weekend with Emi,” I tell her, setting the suitcase in the living room and carrying the flowers and wine into the kitchen.

  “She looks pretty bad,” Anna says, cringing.

  “I know, I know. You look beautiful, though,” I tell her, hugging her and kissing her on the cheek. “Is she still in bed?”

  “Oh, no,” she says. “She and Chris are on the patio catching up... in the shade, don’t worry.”

  “Okay. Are you cooking?” I ask her, noticing some ingredients set out on the counter in front of her.

  “She was hungry... I thought I’d make spaghetti. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “I only mind that a woman in your condition is slaving away, alone in the kitchen,” I laugh. “Let me help you.”

  “Thanks,” she smiles. “You know,” she begins, filling a large pot with water, “I half-expected a ring on her finger when she got home. Is she just not wearing it because of the sunburn? Because she hasn’t said anything.”

  “She doesn’t have it,” I confess as I take the pot from the sink and carry it to the stove for Anna. “I didn’t ask her. Maybe I should have done it there... she knows it’s coming. She discovered the box... but I want it to be a surprise. I don’t want her to expect it.

  “Maybe that’s just stupid at this point, I don’t know,” I lament.

  “No, it’s not stupid,” Anna assures me. “It’s your decision... but it is still coming, right?”

  “Of course, Anna,” I laugh. “Nothing has changed.”

  “It seems a lot has changed.” Her eyes look concerned.

  “Okay, a lot has changed. But nothing has changed the way I feel about Emi. Nothing can change that. I want to be with her. She’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  Anna quickly grabs her swollen stomach.

  “Are you alright?”

  She smiles softly, rubbing her belly. “He’s very active these days.” She notices my curiosity without me having to say a word. “Would you like to feel?”

  “That’s not weird?” I ask.

  “Jack, perfect strangers come up to me and touch my stomach. You’re family.” She grabs my hand and presses it against her, moving it slightly to find the right spot. “There, do you feel him?”

  I pull my hand away slowly after feeling two distinct kicks. Anna and I exchange glances, and my eyes begin to water. “That’s amazing.” I turn around and blink away the tears before they have a chance to fully form. She grabs my arm before I can walk away.

  “Hey,” she says, spinning me around. “You can’t be sad around her,” she warns me. “I know you’re sad, but you can’t let her know that.”

  “I don’t,” I tell her. “I know we’ll have children someday. We’ll adopt... these things, though... it’s just hard to get used to. I’m fine.”

  “You were saying she’s all you ever wanted...”

  “And she is,” I confirm. “I can’t wait to marry her, and start our life together.”

  “We can’t wait, either,” Anna responds. “And Jack,” she adds, “we want you to be the baby’s godfather.”

  “And Emi?”

  “Well, of course she’s going to be the godmother. That’s what she and Chris are talking about right now.”

  “Oh,” I comment.

  “Chris had already decided he wanted her to be the godmother and you to be the godfather, whether you end up together or not. But if something happens to us, I want our son to be with two people who love each other and have a home together. So I wanted to see where your mind was... for my own peace of mind, you know?”

  “God, don’t say things like that, Anna. Nothing’s going to happen to you two.”

  “If we’ve learned anything in the past couple of years, it’s that life is short. And we just want to have a plan, that’s all.”

  “I don’t even want to consider such a thing,” I tell her, “but of course you can count on us... together.”

  “Thank you. Now make it official!” she laughs. I roll my eyes at her, feeling the pressure of so many people on my shoulders.

  “Patience does not run in either of our families,” I mutter.

  “Here, make a salad,” Anna says, handing me a head of lettuce.

  “Patience, I said.” I smile at her, putting the vegetable down. “Let me see if they need anything.” As I go out to the patio, Anna puts the flowers in a large glass of water.

  “Chris, how’s it going?” I ask, interrupting their conversation. Emi’s brother stands up to shake my hand and pat me on the back.

  “Good to see ya,” he returns. Emi squints up at me, the sun peeking in between the two umbrellas they set up on the deck. Her short pajama shorts barely hang beneath one of my t-shirts as she pulls her knees into her chest. I adjust one of the umbrellas to keep the sun off of her.

  “How are you feeling, Emi?”

  “Still hurting,” she says, “but less, I think.”

  “That’s good. Why don’t you come inside? The sun can still find you in the shade, you know...”

  “I’m fine, Jack,” she says. “We’re just talking. We’re going to be godparents, did you hear?”

  “I did. I can’t wait... thanks, Chris, I’m honored.”

  “You guys were the obvious choice,” he says. Emi extends her hand to me and I take it as I move in closer to her. She wraps her fingers in between mine and kisses the back of my hand. I squat down next to her and gently kiss her lips.

  “Think I’ll go help Anna,” Chris says.

  “We’ll be right in,” I return. “How do you feel?” I ask Emi again.

  “I told you, I hurt less,” she smiles, pushing a few hairs off of my forehead.

  “I mean about the godparent thing...”

  “Uh...” she wavers. “Consolation prize?” she asks, warily.

  “You know that’s not it,” I tell her. “You know they would have chosen us, regardless of what’s happened.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she says, her expression anxious. “I’m sure it was hard to ask me,” she adds. “But I’m glad he did.”

  “Life goes on,” I tell her.

  “It does,” she agrees. “Did Anna tell you the name?”

  “Of...”

  “Of the baby...”

  “No, she didn’t. What is it?”

  “Elliott Nathaniel. Eli for short.” She smiles, unsure.

  “What do you think about that?” I ask softly.

  “I think it’s perfect,” she laughs, a quick tear falling from her eye.
>
  “It is perfect,” I agree, wiping the tear away and kissing her again. “Are you hungry yet?”

  “Starving,” she says.

  “Alright, then. Let’s go help with dinner.”

  ~ * ~

  By the following Saturday, Emi’s burn has turned into a peeling tan. She puts on the most protective sunscreen before we leave for Kelly’s house.

  “You don’t even have to stay outside,” I remind her.

  “But if everyone else is out there, I want to be,” she responds. We both grab a bag of food from the counter and carry them to the car. I arrange the trunk– the souvenirs, the cooler, the food– while Emi climbs into the front seat.

  After we pick up Chris and Anna, the forty-five minute drive goes by quickly with lively conversation.

  Brian and Jen are unloading their car as we pull up the driveway. Clara bounds out of the backseat, dolls in hand, and runs up to the front door.

  “She seems excited to be here,” I laugh. When I put the car in park, Clara turns around to see her aunt and uncle get out and runs toward them.

  “Anni-Emi! Uncle Chris! Anni-Anna!” she cries, hugging them each equally. “Hi, Jack,” she waves, shyly standing behind Emi.

  “Hey, sweetie. I hear Jacqueline has been on the trampoline all morning... I can hear them in the backyard, if you want to go meet her...” I point to the gate and follow her as she runs over, opening it for her and then closing it softly behind her as I head back to the car to help unload. I shake Brian’s hand and give Jen a hug on the way.

  “Thank you so much for inviting us to come,” Jen says. “Clara has been chatting about it all week.”

  Once inside, Jen and Kelly get reacquainted as they watch their girls try to out-jump one another on the trampoline.

  After lunch, the adults sit around the back yard while the exhausted kids go inside to watch TV. Emi and Anna have apparently gone inside, too, likely to escape the warm summer heat.

  “Jen,” I ask Emi’s sister as the others are engaged in conversation, “how do you think Emi would feel about moving out of the loft?”

  “Like, to move in with you?” she asks.

  “Something like that, yes.”

  “I’m not sure,” she ponders. “Something about that place has always inspired her, creatively. I think she enjoys the view...”

  “And the sentimental value?”

  “There’s probably some of that, too. It’s a great loft... in a great spot... and it’s free, of course. I had a hard time giving it up... but then again, giving it up meant I could have guests over again, so that was the selling point for me.” She laughs. “Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know. She’s been staying with me all week with this sunburn, and it’s been awesome having her around... and I was just over at the loft the other day picking up some things. I swear I felt his presence there. It was a little weird... and it’s just obvious she still doesn’t consider it her place, wholly.”

  “It makes you uncomfortable, so she should move out?” she smiles, her eyebrows challenging me.

  “That’s not it. I think it makes her uncomfortable. And honestly, it makes me more comfortable when she’s with me... I like to think it’s the other way around, too.”

  “I’m pretty sure it is, Jack. She missed you so much when you were in Europe without her. She needed you... she didn’t want to admit it, but she did.”

  “I wish I had been here...” I lament. “I would have been here, if she had asked... or at least filled me in.”

  “I know. I know you’d do anything for her.” Anna walks out onto the patio and takes a seat next to Jen.

  “What are we talking about?” she asks.

  “Jack wants Em to move in with him. What do you think?”

  “You know what I think,” Anna says. “R-I-N-G.”

  “Yes, Anna, I know.”

  Jen laughs. “I’m sure she’d say yes with a ring. To moving in, marriage, having her wisdom teeth pulled, whatever.”

  “But without the ring?” I ask. “Where is she, by the way?”

  “I assumed she was out here with you,” Anna says. “I was lying down on the couch.” We exchange curious glances and I decide to get up and go inside the house.

  I search in the obvious places: kitchen, living room, dining room... no Emi. The two guest bathrooms are empty, so I keep walking down the hallway to the kids playroom, where I hear laughter, and eventually her voice. I watch her from the doorway.

  “Your turn, Andy,” she says, my nephew in her lap. “What do you want me to draw for you?”

  “Batman!” he exclaims.

  “Batman,” she repeats. “I’ll try.” She pulls out a piece of white construction paper and a black marker and draws a cartoon version of his favorite superhero.

  “He has a bat on his belt,” Andrew instructs.

  “Of course he does,” she smiles. “His utility belt... should we draw the Batmobile, too?”

  “Yes!” he squeals. Once she’s finished, he climbs off her lap and joins the other kids, gathered around the coffee table coloring the drawings she’s made for them. Still unbeknownst to her, I admire her, leaning against the door frame as she crawls over to them and inspects their work.

  “What color should that be?” Clara asks, pointing to part of the dress on her princess artwork.

  “It can be anything you want, Clara-bee,” Emi answers. “But red would be pretty.” Clara takes her advice and snaps the red crayon out of Jackie’s hand.

  “Hey!” Jackie says, grabbing it back. I start to step in but Emi kneels down next to Clara and talks to her, one-on-one.

  “Clara,” she begins, “that wasn’t a nice thing to do to your friend. Say you’re sorr–”

  “But she has the red!” Clara pouts.

  “We share the crayons,” Emi reminds her. “Her flowers need red, too. You know, you could make the sash purple, instead,” she suggests.

  “I want red!” Clara whines.

  “Well, you’ll just have to wait, then,” Emi says. “Why don’t you color her shoes first?” Not a second later, I watch as my always-thoughtful niece breaks her red crayon in half and gives one of the pieces to Clara.

  “Oh, now Jacqueline, you didn’t have to break the crayon,” Emi says. “Clara could have waited.”

  “But I don’t want her to be sad,” Jackie responds. “See, she’s happy now!”

  “Thank you, Jackie,” Clara says, coloring her picture again.

  “Yes, thank you, Jackie,” Emi repeats.

  “Hey, um, hey,” Andy says, tugging on Emi’s sleeve.

  “It’s Emi,” I tell my nephew, startling Emi. “Her name is Emi, remember? We don’t call people ‘hey,’” I remind him. She looks up at me and smiles, her eyes locked on mine.

  “Sorry, Uncle Jacks,” he mumbles. “Emi?” he asks.

  “Yes, Andrew,” she answers, her attention shifting back to him.

  “What color are Batman’s boots?”

  “Ummm...” She looks at me curiously. “Black?”

  I nod.

  “Black,” she repeats. I sit down on the edge of the sofa behind Emi, inspecting their artwork.

  “Maddie, what are you working on?” I ask my oldest niece.

  “It’s the solar system,” she says, rolling her eyes.

  “Is it?” I ask, looking at Emi curiously. Maddie hands me her drawing and I count the orbs on the picture.

  “Seven... planets... Em?” I ask, laughing.

  “Yes, seven,” she states confidently, blushing, knowing she’s wrong. “Maybe I took some artistic license...”

  “Name them,” I tell her, smiling.

  “Earth, Saturn–”

  “In order?”

  “Alphabetical?” she challenges me.

  “Distance from the sun.”

  “Mmmm...” she begins.

  “Mercury,” Maddie answers.

  “I know Earth is third,” Emi states.

  “Earth, the third one, wou
ld that be the biggest planet on your drawing here?”

  “Well, it is Earth,” she says. “It’s the biggest to me...”

  “Just name what you can, then,” I sigh.

  “Mercury, Earth... Saturn... Venus, Mars... Uranus... Neptune. There. Seven.”

  “Jupiter, maybe?” I suggest. “The largest of the nine planets... and Pluto, the smallest.”

  “I thought they took that one out,” she argues.

  “Depends on whom you believe, I guess,” I tell her.

  She shrugs her shoulders. “Science was not my forte. I did the best I could... I was running out of space.”

  “I think it’s pretty,” Maddie defends Emi, taking her paper back and continuing to color the planets she did draw.

  “It’s pretty,” Emi says, satisfied, squinting her eyes at me. “That’s what matters.” She then crosses her arms, her brows furrowed, and sticks her tongue out at me.

  “Do that again,” I challenge her, moving closer, making sure all the kids are engaged in their artwork. She slowly sticks her tongue back out at me, unable to hide her smile, and I meet her with a kiss. “Are you having fun?” I ask.

  “Tons,” she whispers. “I think you have a family of artists. Jackie’s sense of color is amazing... and Maddie has this thing with patterns... see how none of the planets have the same texture?

  “And then Andy... you see, he has this wild style... lines be damn– oops,” she says, covering her mouth, catching her slip-up. The children just continue to color and talk amongst themselves, oblivious to our conversation. “He’ll be like Nate,” she smiles. “He was never a fan of staying in the lines.

  “I lost Brandon, though,” she says. “He was down here for awhile. He can draw some menacing-looking creatures,” she says of my teenaged nephew. “He’s very good... draws better than me, by hand, for sure. But I guess he got bored.”

  “Well, the rest seem perfectly content,” I comment.

  “What have you guys been talking about outside?”

  “Nothing in particular. Sports, weather, the loft, summer vacation...”

  “What about the loft?” she asks, pulling herself onto the sofa next to me. “Why were you talking about the loft?”