Just Breathe Series (Trilogy Box Set)

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Just Breathe Series (Trilogy Box Set) Page 127

by Martha Sweeney


  “Yes,” I giggle and then kiss him.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Okay . . . where is my Emma and what have you done with her?” Joe asks.

  “I’m right here,” I tease.

  Joe stands silently, just watching me.

  “I love you,” I say.

  Joe smiles. “I love you.” He leans in, pressing his lips to my head as he holds me closer.

  Once in bed, Joe holds me tight for a long while and neither of us seem to be able to sleep. His fingers slip under the edge of my panties, tracing the scar from the accident — he’s done this a few times, especially when it’s been a topic of conversation.

  “Emma?” Joe calls sweetly, shifting down my body to where he rests his head on my thigh.

  “Yeah?” I reply, dancing my fingers in his hair.

  His thumb trails back and forth over the bump several times. “Nothing.”

  “What?” I ask, pressing softly.

  “I swear . . . I didn’t know,” he says, then kisses my scar.

  “I know,” I soothe. “I believe you.”

  “Emma?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think . . . do you think we would have ever met . . . you know, later in life, if your parents were still alive?” he asks gently.

  “I don’t know,” I answer truthfully.

  “I’d like to hope so,” he comments.

  “With a smile, I reply, “Me too.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I agree.

  “I know you miss them,” Joe says. “But, in a way, they’ve come back to you . . . you know, with us finding out that we knew each other before?”

  “Yeah,” I reply.

  “I know this may sound selfish,” Joe begins. “But, I’m glad things worked out the way they have.”

  “Yeah? Why?” I ask, not bothered by his admission.

  “Because,” he says, kissing my hip again. “This little prince . . . or princess . . . might not be here with us today.”

  “True,” I agree.

  “I love you,” he says, sharing so much emotion in his tone and his eyes.

  I smile. “I love you.”

  Joe’s lips slowly dance up my body, past my navel, round my chest and hover along my chin and mouth. My fingers curl into the edges of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin on mine. Our bodies talk while our voices remain silent, only humming the song of pleasure as we make love into the night.

  One Hundred Thirty Eight

  The next day, Joe and I are with his parents at their home having lunch with Mr. Steinberger, discussing the matter of my parents’ home and what he needs from me to confirm officially I am who I say I am. He profusely apologizes several times about the tediousness of the paperwork and verification process as well as his oversight to my name and not making the connection previously.

  “Mr. Steinberger,” I say. “Please. You don’t need to apologize anymore. No one made the connection.”

  “Thank you,” he accepts again. “Even with the information you have on hand, the laws have been more stringent as to what’s required to discuss these matters.”

  “I understand,” I reply. “What specifically do you need from me so we can discuss it? Birth certificates? Passports?”

  “For you, yes,” he confirms. “It would help, if by some odd chance that you may have your parents’ documents as well. There’d be a lot less paperwork. Do you have them or know where they might be at the house?”

  “I have them,” I share.

  “Really?” Mr. Steinberger says a little shocked.

  “The night I left New Jersey,” I explain, “I stopped by the house and took the things that were in my parents’ safe.”

  “What safe?” Mr. Steinberger investigates. “I don’t remember finding one when we searched the house.”

  “It’s at the top of the stairs, in the closet,” I reveal. “Behind the wall on the right.”

  “Ah,” he returns, nodding.

  “I grabbed their birth certificates and passports along with mine, as well as the money dad had in there for emergencies,” I explain.

  “And that was enough to allow you to flee all the way to California all by yourself?” Mr. Steinberger investigates.

  “Yes,” I agree. “My father had several thousand dollars in there . . . not to mention the money I took from Dean the night I left the foster home.”

  “I’m so sorry we couldn’t get you out of there,” Mr. Steinberger comments. “The State was being fickle about paperwork, taking longer than necessary . . . they’re always slower during the holidays. By the time we got through, you had disappeared. Your neighbors, the Nelsons, were upset when they found out what had happened. They did everything they could to find out and help us out with the house. I was surprised to hear how the State overlooked two people who actually knew you for your custody. I still don’t know why the States do the things they do sometimes.”

  “The past is in the past, Mr. Steinberger. But, thank you for your efforts,” I commend.

  “Thank you,” Mr. Steinberger accepts. He takes a small pause. “Until I have those documents and can verify them, I’m sorry to say I can’t do or discuss anything further.”

  “That’s fine,” I accept. “They’re already on their way and should be here in a few hours.”

  Last night when Joe and I were by ourselves after talking to his parents about the photos and how we knew each other, he mentioned the need for proof to validate myself and my relationship to the property — that Mr. and Mrs. Nelson’s word wouldn’t hold up in these types of proceedings. So, I asked Jared to bring them out to me. It just so happens that not only Nathan, Pop-Pop and Joanna are with Jared, but Maggie and Henry decided to come as well despite it being really close to Maggie being in her third trimester. Apparently, Maggie convinced Henry to fly out to support Joe and me, and that they’d take a train back, promising God only knows what to get Henry to agree.

  By dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson, Martin, Celia, Brittany and Leslie have come into the city at my invitation, and everyone who came from California have been with us for a few hours already. Joe, his parents and I have decided to explain our findings to our family after a relaxing dinner. Jimmy and Allen speculate that either Joe has or will be proposing — claiming that he could have and I’m just not wearing the ring until everyone is around us.

  “How’re you holding up, Kitten?” Jared asks quietly.

  “Good,” I say.

  “You look pretty good considering everything,” Jared shares.

  “Thanks,” I return.

  “You sure you aren’t going to just suddenly disappear?” Jared checks.

  “No,” I laugh. “I’m good. Really.”

  “Thanks, Joe,” Jared says.

  “For what?” Joe inquires.

  “For whatever it is you’ve done to make Emma like this,” Jared states sweetly. “I would never have guessed she’d be cool with all of this.”

  “All of what?” Jimmy presses.

  Joe, Jared and I ignore Jimmy’s question.

  “So, what is it?” Jared pries.

  “What’s what?” I ask.

  “What’s the magic trick or spell Joe has on you?” Jared says with a chuckle.

  “I’ll never tell,” Joe says with amusement in his tone.

  “I think it’s Dr. Callahan,” I share. “Ever since the day at the speedway, I’ve felt . . . different. Good different.”

  “You sure it’s not from one crazy night with Joe when he had you tied up and all,” Nathan roasts.

  I shush him to lower his voice so no one other than Joe, Jared, Nathan and myself can hear our conversation.

  “Yep,” Nathan chuckles. “Definitely something Joe did.”

  “I didn’t say . . . .”

  “You didn’t have to, Kitten,” Nathan teases. “It could be the fact that he knocked you up.”

  “Stop,” I press quietly.

  Joe, Jared
and Nathan laugh.

  Everyone finally gathers in the living room, waiting for dessert and cocktails to be served.

  “So, what’s going on?” Jimmy presses.

  “What are you talking about, Jimmy?” Joe questions.

  “Since when do Jared, Nathan, Maggie, Henry, Pop-Pop and Joanna suddenly show up with it not being planned, especially since the Nelsons and the rest of Emma’s Jersey family are here?” Jimmy states.

  “Yeah.” agrees Tony.

  “They’re here because I asked them to be,” I reply.

  “Why? Did Joe propose again, and this time you said yes?” Jimmy asks excitedly.

  “What? Oh, finally.” Charlotte blurts.

  “Remind us why you turned him down, Emma . . . especially since you’re pregnant?” Allen teases politely.

  “I . . . it’s . . .” my voice falters, not expecting the whole marriage topic and wondering myself when and if Joe will ask again.

  “That’s not why we’re here tonight,” Joe cuts in, avoiding another painful explanation of how everything happened. “But, I also haven’t asked her again . . . yet.”

  “Then why?” Jimmy presses.

  “Because,” I begin. “There has been the development of some . . . interesting news . . . I guess is the best way to put it.”

  “You’re having twins,” Charlotte states excitedly.

  “It’s not Joe’s baby?” Tony assumes.

  “No,” I laugh. “The baby is Joe’s and I don’t know what we’re having yet. I haven’t done an ultrasound for several reasons.”

  “Then, out with it,” Jimmy pushes.

  The faces of our friends and family are showing eager impatience, not liking the delay.

  “You’re all here because of this,” Joe says, holding up one of the Covelli photo albums.

  “A photo album?” John Jr. questions.

  “Yes,” Joe confirms. He flips through the pages as several different questions bounce around the room in whispers.

  “What’s the big deal about one of our family photo albums?” David asks.

  “This,” Joe states, pointing to the picture as he turns it for them all to see.

  Everyone leans forward, staring silently for several seconds.

  “What?” Brittany asks. “The picture?”

  “It’s a picture of Joe when he was, what six, and when we were in Hawaii,” states David.

  “Who’s the girl?” Leslie inquires. “She kind of looks like you, Emma.”

  The room is quiet as everyone who doesn’t know looks back and forth between the picture and me.

  “That’s because it is me,” I reveal after a few moments of silence.

  “What?” several people mumble.

  “Kitten?” Jared calls nervously.

  I face Jared, offering him, Maggie and Nathan a calm, relaxed smile as chatter erupts more among everyone who is present.

  “How can that be you, Em?” Maggie searches.

  “Yeah?” says Nathan.

  I smile and open the photo album from my parents’ home that has the exact same picture. “This is why I suddenly disappeared for several hours the other day though I didn’t understand it at first.” My hand stops turning the pages when I reveal the same picture.

  “Ha ha, very funny,” Tony laughs. “You put that in there to mess with us.”

  “I don’t think they’re messing with us,” states Emily.

  “Kitten?” Jared checks again with worry laced in his voice.

  “They’re not,” Mr. Covelli says, speaking up for the first time since the topic has been presented. “It’s a picture of Joe and Emma.”

  “Kitten,” Jared calls sweetly, leaning into my ear.

  “I’m good, Jared,” I soothe as I squeeze his hand now that he’s standing next to me.

  “How is that possible?” John Jr. inquires.

  “You boys,” Mr. Covelli says, gesturing to John Jr., David and Daniel. “Perhaps even you too . . . .” He gestures to Tony and Thomas. “Might remember Jeffrey . . . one of my drivers.”

  The Covelli men look at their father, puzzled by his statement.

  “One of my favorite drivers who had worked for me several years until suddenly he didn’t show up . . . two weeks later we were informed that he was killed in a car accident,” Mr. Covelli expounds.

  “You mean . . . ?” John Jr. searches.

  “Yes,” Mr. Covelli confirms, not letting him finish.

  “Wow,” gasps John Jr..

  Emily shows comprehension with her expression as does David, Daniel, Isabella and Charlotte.

  “What?” Jimmy asks.

  “What are we not getting?” Thomas inquires, puzzled by the situation.

  “Jeffrey was Emma’s father,” Mrs. Covelli announces.

  Several moments are given to let the news sink in.

  “You’re dad worked for them?” Maggie gasps.

  “So, you knew each other before and didn’t know it?” Brittany asks.

  “Yes,” I confirm.

  “That’s so romantic,” Charlotte boasts.

  Between Mr. and Mrs. Covelli, Joe and myself, we explain the details of what we’ve come to realize and how the events have occurred. It takes some of our friends and family members longer than others to process the news as there are several more questions that are asked.

  “So . . . Emma was the girl that Mr. Steinberger had been looking for . . . for three years?” Isabella establishes.

  “Yes,” confirms Mr. Covelli.

  “Why didn’t they find her?” Charlotte ponders.

  I share the events from when I woke up in the hospital to when I was placed into foster care by the State, then finally fled to California for those who do not know all of the details of my past. Happily, I go into explaining how I was able to leave, the resources I had at my disposal and how Jared and I met the day I arrived in California. Mr. and Mrs. Nelson sit quietly, almost in a state of shock at my retelling.

  “And, no one knew this whole time?” Charlotte searches.

  “No,” Joe and I confirm.

  “No,” Jared, Nathan and Maggie say at the same time.

  “And, you’re okay with all of this?” Mrs. Nelson questions, speaking up for the first time.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Just with learning all of this,” she states. “Considering everything you’ve been through, how hard it’s been for you to attempt to go into your parents’ home since you came back in November and also with being pregnant . . . I can only imagine that you’re nerves are shot. Are you and the baby okay?”

  “We’re fine,” I soothe with a smile.

  “You sure?” Jared checks.

  “Yes,” I confirm. My gaze turns to Joe. “Several things have happened . . . including things that have allowed me to cope . . . to accept . . . to move forward rather than backward. Those things make all of this okay.”

  Everyone smiles and nods.

  “You sure, Kitten?” Nathan asks sweetly.

  “Yes,” I giggle.

  “Wow,” several of my friends breathe out.

  “Kitten?” Jared presses gently.

  “I’m good. Really.” I pause for a second, taking Jared’s hand again. “If things didn’t happen the way they did . . . I may not be the person I am today. I may not know the people who I call family. And, this little guy, or little girl, may not be with us when he or she is ready to be with us. I am thankful and grateful for everything in my life and how it has turned out . . . even if it took this long to find some of you again.”

  One Hundred Thirty Nine

  Over the course of the next few days, my friends and family assist with matters of what to keep and what not to keep from my parents’ home after I see Mr. Steinberger a second time to verify everything and sign the proper documents. There isn’t much that I plan on keeping — the memories and feelings that I had when my parents were alive are what matter most to me. I take the photo albums and Joe insists on grabbing the ma
p off the wall so we can replicate it in our new home. That’s still surreal to me — our new home. We don’t even know where that is right now.

  Joe says that home isn’t a physical place for him. It’s not a matter of walls — large or small. Home for him is me — is us, and now our baby. The thought of that makes me smile and happy, so it must be true. Home isn’t a tangible thing — it’s a combination of feelings you get with the people you love. Home is wherever they are and wherever you are for them.

  There are a few times while making decisions and being at my parents’ house that I have to take a break and use Dr. Callahan’s book. When pondering the matter of what to do with the house itself, I know that Mr. and Mrs. Nelson can’t handle a whole other place to keep clean and maintained — they already have some trouble taking care of their own. When I speak to the Nelson’s about my thoughts with the house, they make my decision easy when they mention that they’ve thought about moving, but couldn’t bring themselves to do it until I returned, and then once I took action about the house. Now that I have, they’re excited about downsizing. Mr. Nelson even mentions that he wouldn’t mind moving to a place with warmer weather, so Joe and I offer to make arrangements for them to move into my apartment back in California. They don’t have any other family, just me, so it makes sense to all of us for the transition to occur.

  Joe sets up for the option of the joint row homes to be sold as either a single or double unit to an interested buyer who may want to convert it into a single residence. The Nelson’s seem pleased with whichever helps them to move sooner. Joe and I remind them that they can move as soon as Joe and I head back to California, packing the things they want to take with them and to fly back with us on the private jet. We’ve got plenty of room in the penthouse for them while I move in with Joe right away. We’ll need to decide what pieces I’m keeping from my apartment as well as what the Nelson’s may want to stay.

  I’ve decided that the money I get from selling my parents’ house will go into a Trust Fund for Brittany and Leslie, each getting half when they are old enough to graduate from college — if and when they go to college. I’ve already decided that I will cover that expense. It’s the least I can do. I’ve set up another Trust Fund for Martin and Celia to have access to in a few years to use as they see fit.

 

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