“Around the world and back, Aiden,” she whispers instead of saying the words back.
Suddenly we have nothing to talk about. There’s only an empty feeling.
~*~
I thought getting home would make me feel better, but it doesn’t. I don’t talk about Emma. Zac doesn’t ask about her, neither do my folks.
I’m just glad when the damn day is over and I can go home. And then I look at the time and I curse. I forgot about the time difference. It’s already eleven p.m. there.
By the time I walk into the house and head up to my office, another hour has gone by. I sit down and open my laptop.
Photos. I add a few. I don’t want her to forget me. I add a few of when I was in the army and some random ones, and then I settle in and start to type.
Emma,
I keep hoping I’ll wake up and it will all be a nightmare. I need someone to wake me up when this is all over cause it’s hard.
They say people come into your life so you can learn from them and they from you. There’s still so much I want to learn from you. I’m not done.
I hate the time difference. It sucks.
I miss you.
I miss you so damn much.
Loving you Sweetheart
Aiden.
I press send, before I can rattle on about the damn weather that’s starting to get cold. I better go get dinner going and get my butt showered. I’ve copied Emma’s media player, and I hook it up to my sound system so I can listen to the same music she’ll be listening to.
Yeah, I’m a sucker for punishment. Especially when Passenger’s Let her go echoes throughout the house.
At ten my phone rings, and I almost don’t answer, I feel so miserable, but then the actual time hits me. I grab for it and jump out of the chair.
“Emma?” Her name rushes over my lips.
“Hey, am I bothering you?” she asks. She still has to ask? Doesn’t she know my world revolves around her?
“Of course not,” I assure her, taking the stairs down to the lower floor of the den. “Did you have a nightmare?” I ask.
“No, I’m going to bed now. I wanted to phone you first.” She sounds empty, and I stop in the middle of the room.
“Why are you going to bed so late?” I ask. What has she been doing that kept her up until three in the morning?
“I had to calm my mum down first,” she sighs and it sounds hopeless. My muscles tense and I lean into the phone.
“What time did you get home?” I ask, closing my eyes.
“Early. I wanted to get it over and done with quickly,” she says.
What’s early in England?
“What’s early, Emma?” I ask, because we might have two totally different definitions of early.
“Seven,” she says and I’m now thinking a.m. or p.m.? “I was hoping to get her before she started drinking.”
“Y’all been talkin’ since seven in the mornin’ until now?” I snap.
There’s silence on the other side of the line.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just …” I take a deep breath and start to stalk up and down.
“How was your day?” she asks, trying to change the subject. “Have you been assigned to a new case yet?”
“I want to talk about you,” I say, changing it back to her. “Not about work. Are you in bed yet?” I ask.
“Yeah, my cat’s giving me the old evil eye, wondering where I’ve been.”
I smile. “You have a cat?” I grasp at the straw. It’s something to talk about.
“I do. I’m a cat person,” she admits. “Do you like cats or dogs?” she asks.
“Dogs, I don’t understand how cats work. Sleep and eat. A dog does more.” This is better. We’re talking.
“Dogs are big. Cats are fluffy,” she argues.
“That’s a girly thing to say,” I’m grinning from ear to ear.
“Fancy that, I was a girl last time I checked,” she exclaims in mock surprise.
“Last time I checked too,” I can still see her naked on the bed, and I clench my jaw. This is the hard part. Hearing her and not being able to touch her. “You owe me an email,” I add quickly, before the conversation can get all heated.
“You sent me one?” I hear her move.
“Don’t read it now. Wait until we’re done talkin’,” I say, and then I realize the call is going to cost her money she doesn’t have.
“I listened to your voicemail,” she says and she sounds sad.
“You did?” I wait to hear what she thinks.
“Please don’t come here. You’re a perfect memory, and I don’t want you here. You’re not a part of this life.” Each word stabs.
I start up the stairs. “I love you, Emma.” It’s all I can think to say.
“Around the world and back,” she says. “I have to go.”
I nod, but she can’t see me. “Okay. I’m here. I’m right here, Emma,” I try to reassure her.
“I know,” her voice falters, “and I’m over here … and there’s an ocean.”
She cuts the line. But I don’t know how to give up, so I sit down and open my laptop, and I start to research visas, marriage and how the hell to get her back.
~*~
Chapter Nineteen
Emma~
The weather is miserable, Chloe’s miserable and I’m miserable. And my mother is Hitler reincarnated. She glares at me with beady eyes, and her mouth looks like she’s sucking a lemon. She won’t ever let me forget this, not as long as there is breath in me.
Aiden. I inhale him. I exhale him. My heart beats him into every part of my body. He’s become my sanity.
He’s in my tears. He’s in my smiles when I look at his photos. I have him everywhere.
And, armed with his photo on my phone, which is tucked into my pocket, I check my appearance one more time. Not a hair is out of place. I leave the bathroom to face my mum.
Day three without Aiden.
~*~
Day three, four … they start to blend together again. I don’t dare leave the house yet.
Damage control sucks.
If it weren’t for Aidan’s calls I would have gone mental. Tasting freedom, having Aiden and having to let go, having to come back – it’s a different kind of torture.
Chloe is angry with me. She says I might as well have stayed with Aiden. I think she’s just hurting a lot right now. I’m hoping once she gets over the worst of the pain she’ll understand that I don’t have a choice. Until I get work, I’m at the mercy of my mother.
~*~
“Morning, Mum,” I greet her a week later. She’s sitting at the kitchen table. She doesn’t look up from her diary, and I have to resist the urge to slam my head into the wall. You’d think she’d start getting over the snubbing spell by now. “Can I make Mum a cuppa?” I offer.
Nothing.
“I’m going to go and look for work today,” I try again.
Nada. Zilch. It’s still silent treatment.
“I’m sorry I bodged things up,” I apologize again. “I’ll see Mum later,” I say quickly, and run for the door, taking a chance.
But instead of going to some kind of office that can help me look for work, I walk to the village where Gran lives. I need to see the only person I consider family.
She has a neat little one-bedroom in a retirement village not far from our home. My grandmother is a stubborn, independent, God-fearing woman, and I hope I can become half the great woman she is one day. She’s the reason my mother is wealthy, and I feel guilty for not seeing her as much as I would’ve liked to.
The village has a nice garden in the middle, with some benches.
I get buzzed in, and she beams when she sees me.
“Emma,” her smile is so wide. I really should’ve come sooner. “What a nice surprise.”
“Hey, Gran.” I hold her tight and soak in her love. I feel guilty for forgetting about her. Aiden doesn’t even know about her.
“Come in, love. Let’s have a cuppa.”
I follow her into her flat and take in all her mementos. She has a picture of me above her telly. I frown. “Where did you get this?”
“I made your mother give it to me,” she says, chuckling. “The bloody wench has so many. She can spare me one of my own granddaughter. I wanted something. I got your letter after you just up and left me.”
Now I feel like pond scum.
“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can say.
She taps on the seat next to her. “You went and had yourself an adventure, now, did you?” she asks. Then she folds her hands together and settles in, waiting for me to tell her.
I smile sheepishly. “I did.” I fish my phone out of my pocket and bring Aiden’s photo up. “I met a bloke.” I turn the screen so she can see him. I watch how she fumbles for her glasses and nudges them onto her nose, then she stares long and hard at him.
“Ohhh … a charming fellow.” She slips her glasses off, and I look at his photo. It’s one where it looks like someone caught him sitting at his desk and called to him. He’s leaning half back, looking around. The reason I like it is because I can see his eyes, or should I say the color of them, really well.
“He is,” I say, deep in thought.
“And now, love?” she asks.
I let out a deep sigh. “And now I’m here and he’s there, and there’s not much to do about it.” I smile at her. “How are you? I feel horrible for leaving you.”
“You’re young. I expect you to go and have fun,” she scolds me. “I have a new neighbor. A bloody old nagging man. He wakes up nagging and goes to sleep nagging,” she huffs, and I laugh. She’s adorable when she starts in on her neighbors.
“Every second day he’s found a new religion, and he drives me nutters with it. Today he’s a Jehovah’s Witness. Bloody mental.”
I sit smiling as she brings me up to speed on the happenings of her little village.
And then as if I haven’t been feeling bad enough - “And the other day I was cooking. The bloody pot fell on my foot. It wasn’t that bad, only a bruise,” she says.
“What?” I squawk. I sound like a duck. “Let me see.” I drop to my knees at Gran’s feet and start tugging her slippers off.
“It’s looking so much better already,” she says. “Just a little purple still.”
I caress her foot softly. It doesn’t look too bad, but still, just the thought that she got hurt, and I wasn’t here makes me feel even worse. Her skin is so dry.
“Do you have some lotion, Gran?”
I get up to go and look in her bathroom.
“On the side of the bath, love,” she calls from the small lounge.
Getting it, I go to sit back down in front of her. I place a pillow in my lap and gently lift her feet onto it. Then I squirt some into my hand and warm it a little.
“He’s a detective,” I say, as I start to massage the lotion into her frail skin. “He’s so handsome and caring, you’d really approve of him. I wish you could meet him.” I smile and keep massaging.
“Your granddad was a handsome fellow. Oh, he had the girls running after him,” she says, and a sweet smile plays around her lips. She always gets that smile when she tells me stories of her past. “But I made him work hard. I sure did. Oh, that’s nice.” She closes her eyes and I concentrate on the spot by her ankle.
Yeah, look at me who hates touching people – I’m rubbing my gran’s feet.
“I have to go and look for work. I don’t know what, though. I’m not sure I want to be a nurse.” I tell her what’s been weighing heavy on my shoulders.
“Why don’t you pop in at the office here? You’re qualified and they need a nurse. It’s a start, until you figure out what you’d like to do. I’d get to see you every day then,” she says.
“I’ll pop in when I’ve finished here, Gran. From now on I’m going to spend more time with you. We see each other far too little,” I promise. Like Aiden said: time is precious and Gran is old. I don’t know how much time I have left with her.
I leave her, my heart heavy, and go to the office to see about the nursing position. They ask me to bring in proof of my qualifications. I doubt I’ll get it without any experience. On the way to the gate, I stop to help an elderly man move his chair into the sun. It’s getting really cold now.
I’d like to work with the elderly. They’re often rejected by family and forgotten by life. I’ll fit in here.
~*~
My phone vibrates, and I rush to get it out of my pocket.
But it’s not Aiden, or Chloe.
It’s my mother. What time will you be home?
I reply as quickly as my fingers can type. On my way, ten minutes Mum xxx
I’m just glad she’s not ignoring me any more.
One time she ignored me for two weeks, just because I was in the kitchen when she dropped a bowl of peas.
I think of Aiden, to build up some courage, and I wonder what he’s doing, and whether he’d mind if I phoned him now. It’s just past twelve here. I work out the time difference on my fingers. That would make it around seven. He shouldn’t be at work yet.
I press dial, and wait while it rings. Nerves start to nibble at my insides. With every ring my stomach clenches more, and I fumble to cut the call. I take a deep shaky breath. I can’t just call him any more. He’s not mine to phone whenever I feel like it.
When my phone starts to ring I jump, and stare at his name flashing on my screen.
“Hey,” I answer, feeling rather anxious.
“Hey, you,” he greets back. “I’m just pluggin’ you in so I can drive, give me a sec’,” I listen to him moving, and a smile spreads across my face. I can picture him doing this. “There we go, we’re all set. So, what have you been up to?” he asks. I hear the car roar to life.
“I went to visit my gran,” I tell him, and my smile grows even more. “She thinks you’re charming.”
“She does? You told your gran about me?” He sounds pleased, happy even … maybe.
“I did, and I’m applying for a position at her village. There’s a nursing position open she told me about. We’ll have to see how that turns out.” And that wraps up all my news.
“You are?” his voice drops a bit, or it could be my imagination.
“I love elderly people. I think I’ll like it there,” I admit.
“Where are you? I hear cars,” he asks, stepping off the subject of my career.
“I’m walking home, talking to you,” I say, looking at the houses around me. Luxury mansions stand proud on either side of the road as I leave the cozy village behind. The rich and their filthy little secrets.
“I’ll keep you company then,” he says, sounding happy again.
“I wanted to hear your voice,” I admit, not knowing if that is wrong.
“I miss you, Emma,” he says. I hear him open the car door.
And then I hear a woman in the background, “Aiden, this is a surprise. Come in, darlin’.”
“Give me a sec’,” he calls back to her.
“You have to go, I understand.” The words tear from my throat. “Have a nice day.” I hang up and run up the road, my eyes on the mansion that’s supposed to be my home.
I close the door behind me and walk straight to the kitchen, trying to hide my rampant emotions.
“I thought you said ten minutes, it’s twenty,” Mum snaps.
“I misjudged, Mum. I’m sorry, Mum,” I apologize.
“When you say ten I expect you to be back in ten! You’re a girl, anything could happen to you,” she snaps.
“Yes, Mum. I’m sorry, Mum.” I just need to pacify her.
My phone starts to vibrate in my pocket, and I ignore it. Hell has no fury like my mother if I dare answer it now.
“Did you find work?” she sneers.
“I don’t know. They want to see my qualifications,” I tell her, glad she’s letting the late-coming thing go so fast.
“Where?” she asks.
“What?” she spits the word out. “No daughter of mine will work at some elderly home!” We’re back to snapping.
My stomach starts to burn. I fold my hands in front of me so I can press them into my stomach to ease the pain.
“What on earth made you think of such a daft thing? Are you stupid?” she says angrily.
My phone vibrates again and I will it to stop. It’s distracting.
“I thought it would be a good place to start, to get some experience,” I try to defend it.
The house phone starts to ring behind her, and she takes a sip of wine before she reaches for it.
“Walker residence,” she answers sweetly. And then her face goes stone hard. “Hold on please.” She holds the phone out to me. “It’s for you, Emma.” Her voice sounds like death, and my stomach lurches.
Oh dear God! I walk around the kitchen table, and stepping in next to her I take the phone with a trembling hand. My eyes drop to her greasy hair and I suck in a breath. She takes a sip of her wine, and I swallow hard – I can almost taste the vile liquid.
With a trembling hand I press the phone to my ear. “Emma speaking.” I try to sound normal, but my voice comes out stiff, forced.
“Hey, why did you hang up?” Aiden’s voice sounds over the line, and my legs go numb.
I don’t know what to reply, not to give away to my mother what the conversation is about. I don’t know how to cover this up. I freeze, and all I can do is stare at her.
I feel like a fly trapped in a spider’s web. The slightest movement will set the spider off. She scratches at a line on the wooden table, and my throat closes up.
“Emma, what’s wrong? Speak to me!” Aiden sounds tense, and it’s not helping.
“I can’t,” I manage to squeeze out.
“Is she there?”
“Yes,” I answer, and some relief eases up my spine that I don’t have to explain this to him.
“Emma,” he sighs. “Is there anythin’ I can do?”
“No.” He doesn’t realize every second I’m on the phone is making it worse. “Thank you for phoning,” I say, and I put the phone down, praying he’ll understand.
Wake Me Up (Love Knows No Boundaries) Page 18