by Lori L. Otto
“I was just telling Jen how nice it was having you stay with me, at the house, this week... I was kind of thinking... you know, maybe we should move in together.”
Her face is expressionless as she stands up and takes my hand, leading me into the hallway. She stops, pushes me against the wall, and with her hand on my chest, she tells me she loves me.
“You know that, right?” she adds.
“Yes, of course.”
“I can’t give it up,” she states, then puts her hand behind my neck and pulls my head toward hers for a kiss. I stare at her, my lips pursed, unmoving.
“Why not?” I say, teeth clenched, avoiding her kiss.
“It’s my haven,” she says. “The creative spirit is alive and well there. It’s inspiring... artistically, you know?”
“Spirit,” I murmur. “Interesting choice of words.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“When I was there the other day... I just... felt him there...”
“That’s silly,” she says. “Plus, I didn’t think you believed in ghosts.”
“I hadn’t met any yet.” I wait for her to respond, but continue when she doesn’t. “Don’t tell me you don’t,” I argue. “... feel him there, I mean. You can’t even be intimate with me over there.”
“Yes I can,” she says. “We were.”
“Once... and I’m not sure that counts.”
“Of course it counts,” she contends.
“Let’s stay there tonight, then,” I challenge her.
“Fine. I want to go home anyway.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, I kind of do. I want to do things for myself. You’ve been waiting on me hand and foot for a week now.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know it bothered you,” I tell her, frustrated.
“It doesn’t bother me, stop that,” she says. “I don’t like feeling helpless, that’s all.”
“Do you want to be alone, then?” I ask. “Would you rather go there alone?
“No,” she sighs. “Not at all. Let’s just reverse the roles. I’ll take care of you tonight.” Her seductive tone piques my attention.
“Really?” I whisper in her ear, then kiss her earlobe gently.
“Yes, really,” she answers, her hand lingering on my belt buckle, then slipping to the front of my pants, slowly.
“Oh, god, sorry!” Anna says, shocked and turning around.
“Anna!” Emi yells, blushing, putting her hand in her pocket and taking a step away from me. “It’s okay, come back!”
“No, no, I’ll just go this way,” she laughs.
“Anna...” Emi calls to her, and eventually her sister-in-law turns around. “What?”
“Well,” Anna says sheepishly, staring at Emi, not looking me in the eye. “Kelly said that Clara could spend the night here, so Jen and Brian and Chris and I were going to go out to dinner in Manhattan... we just wanted to see if you two were in.”
I run my hand through my hair, looking at Emi. “It’s up to you.”
“No, Anna, see, I have this headache...” she lies, and Anna knows.
“Sure you do. You don’t look so good...”
“In fact, Jack, here, was just offering to take me home.”
“I’m sure he was,” Anna says, her cheeks now becoming red.
“Oh, don’t judge me,” Emi jokes with her. “I’ve been sunburned all week and–”
“Please! Say no more!” Anna pleads. “Go home. Have your ‘headache.’” She walks toward us and hugs Emi. “Love you.”
“You, too, Anna. I’ll call you tomorrow?”
“Okay. Bye, Jack.” She hugs me, too.
“Good night, Anna.” We tell all the nieces and nephews goodbye before collecting our things and saying farewell to our siblings.
“Can you drop me off at the loft first?” Emi says as she closes the door to the Volvo. “I want to straighten up a bit before you come over... maybe you can go get our things and meet me a little later?”
“If you want,” I tell her. “It looked fine to me, though.”
“Just give me an hour and a half.”
“Okay. What’s on the agenda? Do you want to go out? Or stay in?”
“Let’s play it by ear,” she says. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”
“Okay.” After dropping Emi off at her loft, I slowly drive home, wondering what she’s planning for the evening. Before gathering some things to take to her apartment, I decide to shower and change clothes. Unsure of whether or not we’ll go out– or to where, if we do– I put on some pants and a nice button down shirt. After a short debate, I decide to add a tie, loosely tied around my neck.
I check off all the things I needed to bring... my overnight bag, Emi’s computer, her clothes, book... I’m torn, conflicted, unsure, but decide to leave the small burgundy box behind, my mind made up.
“Would you like help carrying that up?” Marcus asks as I unload the bags from my car.
“No,” I smile. “Thanks. I’ve got it.” I hand him the key to the Volvo as he opens the lobby door for me and head toward the elevator.
“Just come on in,” Emi tells me in a text message.
I slowly open the door to her loft as a warm glow emanates from candles in the guest bedroom, now empty since Jen moved out. All the other lights are out. The moonlight peeks in from the windows in the main room. Music softly plays throughout the loft. I set down the bags on the kitchen table and close the door softly, locking it behind me.
She stands in the doorway of the second bedroom, the candlelight behind her creating a beautiful silhouette. She’s wearing a strapless taupe satin dress covered in a thin layer of black lace that falls just below her knees with tall, black heels.
“Wow,” I say, inhaling slowly. “So we’re going out?”
She shakes her head.
“Staying in, then?”
She nods.
“You’ve never looked more beautiful.”
She smiles softly, then turns around and enters the room. Her slow steps echo on the hardwood floors. I take it as my cue to follow her, which I gladly do. The music is slow and romantic.
“Will you dance with me?” she asks.
“Of course,” I tell her, taking her in my arms, kissing her slowly. “This is different.”
“Good,” she says. “That’s what I was going for.”
“Harry Connick, Jr.,” I comment.
“Yes,” she says.
“This came out when I was in high school.”
“Yeah,” she laughs. “I was a little too young to appreciate it back then... fully appreciate it.”
“You were what, twelve?”
“Thirteen,” she corrects me.
“I do believe this song is a little too sexy for thirteen.”
“Thank God I’m thirty-one,” she smiles.
“Thank God, indeed,” I whisper, kissing her cheek, ear. I rub her shoulders, feel the peeling, healing skin on her back. “Are you going to let me put some lotion on that tonight?”
“No,” she states, adamant. “You’re not allowed to do anything for me all night. That was the arrangement.”
I inhale through gritted teeth. “All night?”
A blush sweeps across her cheeks. “Until midnight.”
I check my watch. “Midnight, then... So, this room makes a nice dance floor,” I laugh. “I guess that would be one advantage to keeping this place.”
“I don’t think I’m ready to leave yet,” she says after a brief pause.
“Why not?” She’s silent, contemplative. “What can this place give you that mine can’t?”
“Aside from a dance floor?” she jests.
“I can build you a dance floor, Emi,” I counter.
“I know. You could build me anything,” she says.
“I could... I would.”
“I know,” she tells me as we continue to dance slowly. I pull her closer to me, wrapping my arm tighter around her waist. She puts her head on
my chest, her hand caressing my biceps. “It’s just, I don’t know... I always felt more creative here... around him...”
“So you do feel his presence...”
“Ummm...” she hedges. “I wouldn’t say that. But I don’t know. It’s all I have left of him, you know? He wanted me to have it... Donna was insistent on me taking it. I don’t want to let them down.” She looks up at me. “Let her down, I guess.”
“I don’t think she expects you to stay here forever.”
“No, but still, it doesn’t change the fact that I work better here.”
“And you don’t think we could create something like this in my house?” I question her.
“No,” she answers. “I’m not sure that we could.”
“Alright. Well, then, we keep this as your studio. Problem solved.”
“I don’t know,” she wavers. “You know I work best at night... so I’d still be spending a lot of nights here.”
“Hmmmm,” I murmur into her ear. “So you’ll just stay here forever, then,” I state, shrugging my shoulders, nodding my head.
“Not forever,” she says. “I’ll move out when there’s a reason.”
“A reason... like a commitment?” I laugh.
“Is that old-fashioned?” she asks. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Alright, we don’t have to decide anything tonight.” I kiss her again as the music breaks. I recognize the next song immediately when I hear the drumbeat intro. “Wow,” I say, stopping our movement.
“What?”
“This song.”
“What about it?”
“Well, maybe it’s not a bad thing that you don’t remember. It probably wouldn’t remind you of me...”
“What do you mean?”
“This is the song that we danced to at the engagement party,” I tell her, leaning back slightly to see her expression.
She raises her eyes to the ceiling, in thought. “I don’t remember the song,” she says shaking her head. “There are still details I don’t remember from that night.”
“Well, this was my favorite part of the night,” I tell her.
She smiles and swallows hard.
“I’ll change it. I don’t want to upset you, Em,” I say, starting toward the iPod.
“No,” she stops me, pulling me back to her swiftly. “You’ll dance with me,” she says, taking me into her arms. “I don’t remember it. I’m not upset about it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course,” she says. “Tell me why it was your favorite part.”
“It’s this part right here,” I tell her softly in her ear, my head leaning down against hers. “Listen.” I whisper over the words that come through the speakers, vowing my love to her just as Harry Connick, Jr. did to his muse in song.
“That’s exactly how I felt,” I tell her. “And Nate,” I say cautiously, but she doesn’t flinch, “he and I had a little stare-off while he played with his band, far away on that stage, and I held you in my arms, danced with you.” It all seems a little bittersweet...
“Really?” she laughs.
“Really.”
“Hmmmm...” She looks up at me suddenly. “I love you, Jack.” It’s a statement, a reassurance.
“I know, Emi.” We dance silently through the rest of the song. I remember the look we exchanged that night and smile to myself. I knew back then that there was something between us. I knew from our first kiss that she would be mine someday. I couldn’t be happier.
Another song on the CD begins to play, undoubtedly the most romantic one on the album. I reach into my pocket, adjusting the small piece of metal on my thumb. I lock her hand into mine and, distracting her with a kiss, slip the ring on her delicate finger, closing my hand around hers in one swift movement, holding it firmly as she struggles to pull away, curious.
“Marry me, Emi,” I whisper, my eyes piercing into her hers.
“What?” she looks at me, shocked.
I move the ring slightly on her finger. “Marry me.”
She pulls her hand away, staring at it, at the large green stone on her finger. I study her reaction cautiously.
“I can get you a diamond ring, if you’d prefer it, but something about this ring said... Emi...”
“God, no, it’s beautiful,” she gasps. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Oh, my...”
I’ve clearly caught her by surprise. I smile as I read her changing expressions, my throat dry, my heart pounding harder than I thought it would, could.
“I have to sit down,” she says, then realizing there is no furniture in the room, falls quickly but gracefully to her knees. I kneel on one leg in front of her, holding her hand to steady her shaking legs as she inspects the ring, touching the diamond butterfly.
“Emi,” I tell her, “until I met you, I never really considered myself to be someone who could be swept away by love.”
A tear drops quickly from her eye. She stares at me, speechless.
“But you were unlike any woman I had ever met... and the second I looked into your pale green eyes, and the moment I felt your lips on mine, I was doomed to a lifetime of not just wanting love... but wanting your love... and only your love.”
“Oh, my god,” she chokes out, her hand now shaking in my unsteady grasp. “Jack,” she smiles, pulling my face to hers and kissing me.
“You said you’d be the happiest woman in the world the day you became my wife,” I remind her. “I want to make you that. I want you to be the happiest woman in the world. I want you to be my wife.
“So, um... Emily Clara Hennigan,” I clear my throat. “I have cherished every second that I’ve known you. I want to learn everything about you... and I never want to be without you... so marry me, Emi.”
“Jack,” she cries again.
“You’ve already said that,” I laugh, impatient.
“Of course I’m the happiest woman in the world!” she exclaims.
“So yes?”
“Of course, yes,” she says. I slide toward her, closing the gap between us, and cradle her head in my hands, teasing her lips with mine first, then returning for that second, deep kiss. Her tears continue to fall, begin to stream, and she sniffles quietly, but her lips don’t leave mine. “I love you I love you I love you,” she says quickly into my mouth with a soft giggle.
“I love you, Em,” I return. “Your heart is racing.”
“So is yours,” she says, her hands on my neck, thumbs rubbing my earlobes gently as our kiss continues. Minutes pass as the song plays on until the end, my lips never leaving hers. Silence eventually takes over the room, the only remaining sounds coming from our passionate kiss.
“Thank you,” I tell her.
“For?”
“For reminding me of what’s important. I cannot wait to start our life together. I want to make love to you.”
“Here?” she asks, eyeing the hardwood floor beneath us.
“I don’t care where,” I tell her, feeling the desire she must see in my eyes. “Wherever you want. I am yours.”
“Not here,” she says. “And not now.”
“No?” How can she not be as turned on as I am? Her smile grows into a goofy grin, and I can’t help but laugh. “What?”
“We’re engaged!” I nod as my lips connect with her neck, move to her delicate shoulder, my kisses making a trail down her arm to her wrist, and finally settling on the finger that wears my promise to her.
“Hold on,” she says, getting up and turning on the lights. As she looks at the ring, I stand up and cross the room to look at it with her. “It’s so beautiful,” she says. “Amazing... breathtaking...”
“So you do like it?”
“It’s perfect,” she says. “Absolutely perfect. Oh, Jack, thank you so much.” I wipe the tears from her eyes and kiss her again. Suddenly full of energy, she quickly jumps up and down. “I have to call Anna,” she says. “And Jen! I have to call Anna and Chris and Jen.”
“One call, they’re all together... ca
ll away,” I laugh after a frustrated sigh escapes my lungs. “And your mom, Em.” Seeing her this excited, this happy... everything is worth it. I would sacrifice anything to watch her in these moments, such a stark contrast to the sadness I’ve watched her live for too long. I knew I could make her happy.
“Wait, did you ask–”
“No,” I tell her. “I didn’t ask your parents’ permission... a ‘yes’ from you is the only one I needed. But I told them I was going to ask you... and we have their blessing.”
“I love you I love you I love you,” she says again, still giddy. She pauses just long enough to kiss me once more. “Champagne,” she says. “There’s some in the fridge... we should have some.”
“I’ll get it. Go make your calls.”
“No, wait,” she says. “You’re not supposed to do anything for me tonight, though! Not until midnight. What are you doing?” she whines.
“Call them, Em. We’ll get back to that. I won’t forget.” She bites her bottom lip, smiling at me before running to her phone. As I pour the champagne, Emi climbs onto a barstool and hops up onto the island. Her legs kick, feet dangling as she talks to her family.
“Hold on,” she says to Anna when I hand her a glass. “To us,” she says, clinking my glass and kissing me before we both take a drink. The drink burns, but soothes my dry throat. I finish two glasses before Emi gets through half of hers. I hadn’t expected to be so nervous. I text my siblings with the good news. I receive congratulatory messages from each of them within seconds.
“Have you told Mom and Dad?” Kelly adds. In truth, I haven’t spoken to my parents in a few weeks. I had planned to call them after my trip to Europe, but I decided to put it off a little longer. Hearing my mother’s disappointment at the news of Emi’s inability to have children was about the last thing I wanted to hear. For years, she’s been hoping I would find the right woman so we could start a family. She always said she knew I would be the perfect father. I just kept ignoring the nagging feeling, the necessity of calling her. Emi never asked what my parents’ reaction was. I was grateful. I didn’t want to lie, but I couldn’t tell her the truth, either.
Quickly, I text my brothers and sister back. “Don’t say anything to Mom and Dad. I’ll deliver the news.”
Kelly responds again. “But you did tell them about Emi... right?”