by Leanne Davis
Sam doesn’t say a word before he pulls me next to him into a tight hug. “Thank God you’re okay.”
I mumble against his chest. “I ran away. I wasn’t kidnapped.”
“Well, there was plenty of fear until you called. I mean, Emily, you don’t do things like that. You don’t fail to appear, especially without calling. You always do what you say you’re going to do.”
A deep sense of shame fills me. I realize now that my action wasn’t just rude and surprising, but I also managed to scare them all. “I’m sorry,” I mutter. Sam leans back so I can breathe and lets me go. “Nat. Come here.”
They have a suite and Natalie comes from the second door. The boys are lying on the living room floor and staring up at cartoons. They are ten and twelve years old and were adopted a few years ago. They jump up at my entrance. I give them each a hug and smile and we tease each other for a few moments.
“Emily.” Natalie stops dead in surprise when she comes out. I drop my head, overwhelmed with guilt.
“Hi,” I mutter in total humiliation.
“Uh, Em, your friend?” Sam’s voice interrupts my self-loathing and burning desire to melt into the carpeting.
I glance back. Ramiro is still standing in the hallway. The door is open, and Sam waves him in warmly. Ramiro steps inside, still hanging back as Sam shuts the door. “This is Ramiro. He gave me a ride yesterday. He’s a…” Oh, God! I can’t tell them I left the church with a complete stranger. They will surely think I lost my friggin’ mind. It sounds so irresponsible and juvenile, I can’t make my tongue spit the words out.
He saves me with a quick lie. “I’m a friend from college. I was at the church and happened to spot Emily in the parking lot.”
They nod, accepting the explanation without question. I flash him a grateful smile. Wow, can he lie convincingly. His face remains impassive, without a trace of deceit. Natalie rushes forward and hugs me. “We wondered what happened. We questioned everyone. No one could figure out where you went or how you managed to disappear so fast. No calls were made from your cell phone and all your money and things were still in the dressing room. There was no logical explanation as to where you could have gone, and no evidence as to how you could have gone anywhere.”
I cringe. I underestimated the worry that would naturally engulf my family. That was the last thing I considered. I shake my head. “I didn’t mean to do that. I’m so sorry…”
Natalie nods and grips my hands. “I figured that. It’s not exactly your style. What happened?”
“I just… I couldn’t go through with it.” I tip my head down. Shame burns my skin. “I just could not do it.”
She suggests the boys go into their own room and watch TV so the main room is quiet when she flicks the TV off. Sunlight fills the area from a massive picture window.
“Mom and Dad?” My voice trails off.
“Worried sick. Your call definitely helped. But afterwards, they were still agitated. Why did you come here to see me?”
“Because I don’t want to go home yet.”
Her face softens into understanding. “You’ll have to face them eventually. You might as well just get it over with.” Natalie’s words are tough, but her tone is sympathetic, for which I’m grateful.
“I don’t want to.”
“I don’t think that matters too much anymore. You have to.”
“Can’t I just go back with you?” I mumble childishly. Of course I can’t just run away and live in San Francisco with Natalie and Sam and their two kids. But staying away from home right now sounds pretty tempting.
“Emily…”
“I know. I have to return just to make this all right. Face the music. How were they?”
“Worried. Confused. Shocked. Almost reminiscent of an old Melissa episode.” Natalie wags her eyebrows in comic relief. Years ago, Melissa was the source of their shock and worry with her unending antics, forgetfulness, and rebellion. Not me. I was never like that and always disdained her for it. I picked on her and scolded her mercilessly. I will, most likely, have to eat every word I ever said to her now.
“And Harrison?” I ask, my courage dwindling. I stare down at my open hand, running my index finger along the lines that run horizontally across my palm.
“Emily, come on. You don’t even have to ask me,” Natalie says, and her tone is soft but stern. I know. I know exactly how Harrison feels. Devastated. Wronged. Betrayed. Heartbroken. He had no idea of my misgivings. I got pretty good at masking my true self with a neutral or happy face, especially when I felt the opposite. Maybe I’m an incorrigible fake. An actress. I always considered it as putting my best foot forward. I hate to disappoint anyone, especially those close to me. So I can act as if things are fine although that might not be exactly how I feel. I can be as cool and unemotional as an ice cube. I’ve received both compliments and complaints for this innate ability.
Now? I expect to hear more than one complaint.
“I know. I know how he’ll be and I shouldn’t even ask.” I drop my head, letting my horror wash over me once again.
“Why did you come to me? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind. But what can I possibly do to help you?”
“Loan me some clothes and a pair of shoes? I guess I just wanted some moral support to bolster up my confidence before I face them all.”
Natalie gets up and extends her hand towards me in a warm invitation. “Let me find something for you to wear. Come on.”
I glance at Ramiro who remains quiet the entire time. He nods to my querying look, tacitly saying that he will be fine. I swallow a large lump in my throat, take my sister’s hand and follow her into the bedroom.
It’s not huge and most of her clothes are in her suitcase. She hands me some loose, black leggings, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes. All are much too big for me but so much better than Ramiro’s garments.
She hugs me quickly. “Oh, Emily, are you really okay? What’s going on?”
I let her hold me and something quivers in my stomach. As she releases me, I flop onto the edge of the bed, now completely deflated. “I don’t want to get married. I just thought it was what I should do. And then it became overwhelming because I was really doing it. I don’t want to live here either, or at least, not forever. Or… I don’t know. I don’t know at all what I want, just that it’s not marriage.”
“Does this have anything to do with the kid out there?”
I glance up. “Ramiro? Oh, no. Nothing like that.”
“Then you need to tell your parents, and be honest with Harrison.”
“I know.” Natalie is a police officer and every bit as upstanding as she is righteous. I respect that about her. I used to live by that rule and general philosophy until I ran across a parking lot in a wedding dress. I abandoned my own integrity and the promise I gave to Harrison that I’d marry him. The decency and protocol for how I should have handled this is sorely lacking in me.
I start to change clothes as we talk. “Did you ever not want to be with Sam?”
“Many times. But more often than not, I wanted to be with him. I can’t answer that for you. Only you know whom you want and how much you want them. That’s a personal thing. I do know—”
“I handled this wrong.”
“No… well, yes. But more importantly, Emily, you need to figure out who you truly are. Think about what you want out of life and you must start by being honest with yourself. Being strong isn’t following someone else life’s path. Being strong is figuring out your own way and following it despite what others expect from you.”
“I don’t have a clue what I want, Natalie. I thought I did. All this. Everything I signed up for. And then… I didn’t. I wanted to crawl out of my skin so I ran away and now I don’t know what to do.”
“Go home. Face this mess. First, apologize for your poor handling of it, but not for changing your mind. Then figure out what you want. And if you ever choose to come down and stay with us, you can. But first, you have to go home.”
> “I know.” I could trip over my lower lip, it sags down so far. Dressed in Natalie’s clothes now, I ball up Ramiro’s items in my hands and tuck them against my chest. “Thanks, Natalie. I just needed the pep talk before I go home.”
“Can I take you there?”
“No. I’ll have Ramiro drop me off. It’s on his way home.” Why should I volunteer him for that? We haven’t talked about it. There is no reason he should want to go by my parents’ house. I lied. It’s not close or on the way to his house. But… I want him to do it anyway. Maybe I need medication. Maybe I’m having a nervous breakdown.
As I enter the main room, he stands up. “So call me, okay?” Natalie says as I head towards the door. Ramiro follows and our unspoken agreement stands; we are doing this together.
~Ramiro~
I stare at Natalie, but I don’t know why. She isn’t anything to me. No. No way. I mean, I’m sorry for the circumstances surrounding her birth but it has nothing to do with me or my father. I’m sure of that. Completely confident. It was just a shock to learn that a… a child was conceived on that alleged night. And so odd that Natalie and I and Emily are connected by one night from three decades ago and separate fathers and a warehouse in Mexico. Is that what led Will Hendricks back to Mexico and provided the justification to go rogue warrior and annihilate an entire building? A building with people inside it?
People like my father.
Hendricks set fire to an entire building in the middle of a bustling neighborhood in a populated town. He’s nothing more than an arsonist. No, actually, he’s a terrorist, and attempted murder is the least of his crimes. He hurt and seriously maimed people. He ruined their lives.
But that has nothing to do with Natalie. No. Nope. I wonder if what Emily told me is remotely true. Maybe something completely different happened that night. Yes, I know that Jessie Bains was in Mexico. I know that bad things happened to her. I don’t dare deny the story or the likelihood it’s true. It all happened before the building where my father worked was set on fire. No one was blamed. No clues were ever found. All the witnesses could say was that a big, white guy in civilian clothes ran from the scene.
Will Hendricks. I know it was him. Emily’s father. Thirty years ago, he came to the small town where my father worked and burned down the whole building in retaliation for what happened to his wife.
I shuffle my feet while Emily and her sister discuss the yawning scandal over Emily ditching her wedding. Imagine these people during an actual crisis or a real injustice. I have to hide my disgust. They have no idea what real tragedy is.
~Emily~
I don’t know why Ramiro and I stay together. It isn’t like there is any real reason to. But we sit together in the cab of his truck. So easily, I could have allowed Natalie and Sam to take me home. But I don’t even consider it. I simply leave with the stranger who picked me up yesterday. I glance over at him.
“So, you going home like your big sister advised you?”
I glance down at the casual clothes and shoes. I don’t look quite so ridiculous. “What else can I do?”
“How about getting lunch first?”
I sit up at his casual comment. He’s staring out the windshield, seemingly innocent and innocuous.
“What will that do?”
“Fill your belly.”
I shrug but smile as I reply, “I have no money.”
“I remember that.”
“Hell, if you’re offering, I guess a few more hours won’t hurt anything. I’m sure Natalie will call my mom.”
“Where to then?”
“I don’t care.” I stare out listlessly towards the passing land and businesses, spotting a few restaurants clustered ahead. I feel down. Sad. Deflated. I have no desire to go home and face the music, and once I do, what then? What should I do? But then again, what am I doing right now? Staying with Ramiro?
He pulls into the local truck stop diner. We enter and I hug my arms to my chest, feeling quieter now. I’m upset at myself and not ready to hear about my family’s disappointment. I flop into the seat and grab the large, plastic-coated menu. Fingerprints glimmer in the glare from the sun shining through the window. I peruse it.
“So you and this guy, Harrison, were together a long time, huh?”
“We met in my junior year of high school. Attended Eastern together after graduation. That’s a college,” I add before cringing. Oh, my God. That was so insulting. But would he even know about Eastern if he’s not from around here? Since he’s not here legally, I’m confused. I guess I don’t know how to act and maybe I’m not as enlightened as I thought.
“Yes, I know what college is, Emily.” His tone is mild, and his eyebrows rise up while he smirks. He is not offended, it seems, but laughing at me. My lips part in response.
“I’m sorry that was…”
“Insulting to assume I don’t know the names of colleges in the state where I live?”
“Yes,” I answer, my cheeks burning up. I glance downwards.
I feel his toe nudging my foot. He had a grin on his face. “It’s okay, snowflake. I know what you meant. I was just giving you a hard time. You meant because I wasn’t raised around here.”
I doubt he means that. I don’t doubt he runs into it all the time. “Yes. But you don’t have to justify my insensitivity or pretend that it was okay. It wasn’t. It was… I was being mean. I’m sorry.” I lean forward, touching his hand to illustrate my point. His hands rest on the table on top of his menu. His gaze jerks up to mine at the touch of my fingertips on the backs of his knuckles. It’s a quick grazing of skin but a sharp zap bolts through my hand, going up my arm and right into my whole body.
His gaze is fastened on me. I drop my view as my skin burns up in an irrepressible blush. Here I told him yesterday I wasn’t an asshole, and gee, look at that. “I sounded like I’ve never spoken to anyone who isn’t white before. It was insulting and I shouldn’t have.”
His head shakes and I force my gaze to his despite my rising shame. I’m mad at myself, not him. “Believe me, your mild accidental comment is nothing compared to…” He shakes his head as if unwilling to finish his statement.
“It’s a sad state of affairs when my comment is diminished by what you’ve had hurled at you before, isn’t it?” I ask, my tone growing quiet. All my former concern for my wedding-gone-wrong is dwarfed by this eye-opening conversation.
He nods his head. “You could say that. You didn’t mean it. Imagine what people say when they mean to.”
“Max never really said anything like that to me.”
“Have you ever asked him?”
I stare at Ramiro. Shaking my head, my lips open and I let out a deep sigh. “I’ve never asked him. We’ve never talked about his past. Or his nationality. He’s half white, one parent is Latino. He was born in California and ended up here after a long, involved story. But I was barely seven when we met. He was always just Max to me. His ethnicity never mattered.”
“It’s not supposed to matter. That’s good it didn’t. I’m sure he appreciates it. But it probably matters to other people.”
“But he is part of an affluent white family, so it’s different…”
“I have no idea about that. He might not have anything to say on the subject. There again, no two people have the same experiences. I was just speaking from what I know.”
“I’m naive.”
“You’re entitled to your own experiences. Doesn’t make you wrong. But neither does it make me wrong.” He smiles and waves his hand as if to say forget it. “Anyway, let’s continue with the tragic tale of our jilted Harrison. The guy’s so much worse off than me. I’d like to hear about it.”
“Just to make you feel better?”
“Little bit.” He shows his thumb and index finger. We lean back as the server arrives to take our order.
“Coffee? Lemonade? Pop, for you two?”
“I’ll just have water.”
“Coke,” Ramiro says.
The ser
ver nods. “Ready to order?” We each choose specialty sandwiches with sides of fries and she takes the menus.
“So…?”
“Okay, where was I? We went to college together. Did the usual four years and I lived in a dorm the first two years, but moved to an apartment with four friends for the last two. It was amazing. I loved it. I was sad to see it end, to be honest. I was on the EWU track team. I’m pretty fast. My record still holds for the hundred-meter.” I shrug. Always bragging. “Anyway, we were together for the entire time. We both excelled in sports and earned good grades. We were both busy all the time, which somehow made it easy to stay together.”
“And he asked you to marry him and you said yes. What made you run? What do you feel you should be doing instead?”
“Something else. I don’t know. I’d like to see the world, something more, a different slice of life. Meet different people.”
“In other words, you have no idea what you want to do or become.”
“No. None.”
“Do you love him?”
I lift my head up after staring at the water the server leaves on the table. I duck my finger into it pushing the big ice cubes up and down. I don’t expect his softly asked question. “I—I did. For years. But then, maybe I grew up a little, you know? I wanted to see more of the world but I haven’t ever been without him, and I don’t know how… Well, I don’t know what I want.”
“You probably should tell him that.”
My gaze is scathing when it meets his. His laughing, flirty look vanishes. He shrugs as if saying, what? “I’m trying to picture how miserable and confused the poor guy must be. You should probably explain things to him right after you let your family know you’re alive and well. He’s the victim, not them. And since you don’t see that already, maybe you don’t love him like you once thought. Feet to the fire, you didn’t go through with it. You say you couldn’t go through with it. That’s a pretty big indicator of what you truly feel.”
Flabbergasted, I take a long drink of the cold water. Can a complete stranger somehow manage to see what I missed for a full ten months while planning my wedding? I wasn’t even brave enough to admit it to myself. I set the cup down too hard and water bobbles over and slides down the plastic glass. “I—You’re right. You’re totally right. I’ve been obsessing and avoiding telling my parents, but Harrison is the only person I need to tell. I mean, how much more selfish could I be?”