Emily Calls It (The Emily Series)

by Laura Albright.

  Shayla, Doug and Jessica joined us as we started the game. It went by quickly. I lost, of course, but I expected that. Quite a few of our group left and the remaining handful relocated to the darts room. We pushed a couple of tables together and pulled up chairs making a nice little conversation area. I excused myself for a moment.

  “Jessica?” I tilted my head toward the restrooms. She followed…somewhat reluctantly. We stood over the wash basins lathering up our hands at the same time.

  “So, Scott was the distraction you were talking about earlier?” She shrugged, and a mischievous smile crossed her lips. “I would expect this from Shayla, but not you.” I couldn’t help myself. She looked wounded.

  “What? You’re mad?”

  “No, I think it’s sweet, actually. But I know you didn’t act alone, Oswald,” I said. She laughed and flicked water on me.

  “We’re not expecting you two to fall in love or anything. We just want you to have some fun. I couldn’t stand the look on your face earlier. You’re having fun, right?” she asked. I smiled. I was. It didn’t surprise me that they wanted to set me up. What did surprise me was that they were able to find a suitable guy in less than eight hours.

  “Come on.” I tossed my paper towel in the basket and opened the door, gesturing for Jessica to go ahead of me. I sat between Scott and Jessica and shot Shayla a look that didn’t faze her one bit. She was having too much fun with this little scenario of hers.

  Absorbed in a conversation with Jessica, I didn’t notice Scott set a beer down in front of me. The restaurant had cleared out except for our table, and I guess he must have known the bartender. If he thought plying me with drinks was going to get him anywhere with me, he was probably...well, at least on the right track. I smiled to myself taking the first drink. It was refreshing on so many levels after a year of white wine with Graham, his preference, I assumed, from years of his hoity-toity upbringing. This dark microbrew definitely hit the spot.

  I don’t think I could have orchestrated a better night. The conversations were alive and exciting. We were having a great time. Shayla was in rare form. I threw my head back laughing at her story about her most recent run in with her older brother. They were always at each other’s throats, but somehow this time it was hilarious to me. I felt Scott rest his hand on the back of my chair barely touching my shoulder with his fingers. I turned to him, looking over my glass as I took a sip of my drink. He was flirting, and it actually felt nice. Another round of beers and I was officially having a great time.

  It was getting late when the group started to break up. Soon it was just a few of us, including Scott and me.

  He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Can I give you a ride home?” I held his gaze for a second thinking about it. He was a nice guy. Cute, of course, and really sweet. I was willing to bet he was a great kisser. My mind wandered for a moment before I realized he was still looking at me for an answer. Jessica acted like she was involved in her own conversation, but I knew she was listening.

  “Thank you.” I paused for a second sidetracked by his cool green eyes. “But I came with Jess.” I shrugged indicating it was sort of out of my hands…even though it wasn’t.

  “No problem. Maybe another time.” He brought his drink to his lips with his eyes locked on mine. Then he paused before taking a drink. “What would you say to dinner sometime this week?” He knew I was only in town for a few days but that wasn’t stopping him. I was touched by his persistence.

  “Sure, that would be nice.” I smiled then realized I was happy, which was a surprise, considering.

  “Here.” He took a folded piece of paper from the front pocket of his jeans. I opened it and saw his phone number. I wondered when he wrote it and put it in his pocket to give me, but it really didn’t matter. “Call me,” he said then turned back to Doug. Shayla looked over at the same time. It was comical, their little setup.

  THREE

  On The Mend

  I knew when Shayla gave Doug a good night kiss that she was coming with Jessica and me. I also knew that the subject of my love life was not closed. This was going to be an interesting ride home. While I waited outside the brewery for Shayla, Scott joined me.

  “Emily.” He took my hand. “It was great meeting you. I’m already looking forward to dinner.” I watched him walk to his car and waved as he dropped into the driver’s seat.

  “Come on, girls.” Shayla yelled from Jessica’s car. Jessica ran up behind me and draped her arm across my shoulder. It was such a familiar stance for us. We piled in the car, and as soon as we pulled out of the parking lot, Shayla started in.

  “So, you like him don’t you? You should’ve let him give you a ride home.” She looked over at Jessica. “Or to his place.”

  “You are too much!” I looked from Jessica to Shayla, which was easy for me since I was in the back seat. “Like I would actually go home with some guy I just met. You know me better than that.”

  “Maybe, but if you knew what was good for you…” I rolled my eyes at Shayla.

  “You know I’m not one to encourage falling into bed with someone, but Emily, you need something. I can’t stand to see you so upset.” Jessica amazed me. She never encouraged that sort of behavior. I sighed and looked out the window.

  “Yeah, I need something.” I said to myself under my breath. “But you guys.” I raised my voice at them. “Getting involved with someone else, even if it is just a fling, isn’t the answer. I don’t mind having dinner with him, that’s fine, but I need to figure all of this out on my own, right?” I almost had it, then a little doubt nagged me. Well, I guess I was a work in progress. Jessica cracked a smile but Shayla seemed annoyed.

  “Shayla? Come on!” I pushed the back of her seat.

  “Yeah, I guess. We just wanted you to have a good time. You’ve got to kick this Graham for good.”

  “I have, I promise.” I paused, questioning myself again. “At least I’m getting there.” And I think I really was. Coming home was definitely one of my better ideas.

  I called Scott the next day because, let’s face it, I didn’t really have the luxury of time. I was leaving in three days. We agreed to meet in town at a new Mexican restaurant. We did the “it used to be” and the “it’s right next to” so I had an idea where it was, and agreed to meet him at eight o’clock. I had the entire day to myself before the date, and I intended to take advantage of it. Without the threat of running into Graham, there was a certain freedom I hadn’t felt in a while. It was great. My mom was working, and after my first day home my brother lost interest in me. Shayla and Jessica had to work, so we’d talk later.

  I toasted a slice of wheat bread and poured a glass of orange juice. I picked at the crust and watched horses run in the pasture across from our house. I don’t know why, but I never felt so relaxed and happy just to watch the horses before. I guess I hadn’t really noticed them before.

  After washing my dishes, I decided the quiet house was a little too quiet. I needed to get out, so with no real destination in mind, I drove. Two Rivers isn’t very big and the winding roads bring you back to where you started, so the drive was short. I found myself heading for the river. The comfort of the familiar drive was almost hypnotic. That and the summer heat lulled me into a quiet, meditative state and I was more at ease than I’d been during my entire freshman year. Pulling off the road, I was back at the river happy to have the time alone.

  I followed the familiar path, listening to the flip flop of my sandals. I never grew tired of coming to the end of the trail and watching it open onto the river. The heat radiating from the rocks was intense even this early in the day. I walked past my familiar “thinking tree,” letting my fingers run along the rough trunk as I passed. I wiped my hands against my shorts, knocking off the bits of bark. The rushing water was the only sound. I didn’t see or hear anyone; I was utterly alone. When I reached the river’s edge, I sat on the shore letting the tips of my toes touch the water. I lay back on the ground and felt the hea
t warm my skin. The clouds passed overhead. They were thin and filmy like strands of silk. When one floated away, another took its place. Lying there, I felt content. Almost as if my problems were a distant memory. I mean, I knew that wasn’t true. I knew that as soon as I returned to Los Angeles I wouldn’t feel this way, but now, in this moment, I almost felt like my old self. I imagined my heart smoothing out again instead of the jagged pieces after the Graham drama. I stayed at the riverside under that hot sun for a while. Long enough to drift off to sleep and forget where I was.

  “Emily?” I blinked into the strong sun at the darkened figure above me. If it hadn’t been for his voice, I wouldn’t have known who he was.

  “Christian?” I bolted up, suddenly super-aware that I had been lying on the ground. When my eyes adjusted I could see him.

  “No, it’s Jeremy.” It was Christian’s brother. I hadn’t seen him in a year, and in that time he had become a dead ringer for Christian, voice and all. I knew I was staring but the resemblance was uncanny. “What are you doing here? I thought you moved to LA.” He knelt down to my level. He had a fishing pole and a backpack. It was obvious why he was at the river. Me, not so much.

  “Oh, I did move. I’m just visiting for a few days. How are you?” Yes, I was interested in how he was, but I really wanted to know about Christian. Fortunately, I didn’t blurt that out.

  “I’m well.” I couldn’t remember how old he was, but in the last year he had grown taller than me and seemed to have Christian’s poise and confidence. He had the same dark hair and deep brown eyes, and his voice was almost identical.

  We talked for a few minutes, mostly just “what’s new with you” kind of chatter. I felt a strange sort of comfort being in his presence. I knew he wasn’t Christian, yet the way he rested his hand on his head when he tried to think of something, and rolled his eyes when he talked about his family; it was spot-on Christian.

  “Well, Emily, it was good to see you.” He stood up and adjusted his backpack.

  “You too, Jeremy.” I scooted my legs under me. “And say hello to your family for me.” He gave me a crooked smile in response. A smile that said he knew exactly what I was really thinking. A smile I had seen on Christian’s face many, many times.

  He walked down the river bank and I watched him get smaller and smaller. It was like seeing a ghost. I had to shake myself out of this weird, flashback state. My stomach growled, and I knew I’d been dozing for more than a few minutes. I got up and dusted my shorts off, retracing the way past my tree to the base of the path. I glanced back, and saw Jeremy casting mid-river downstream. I took one last look, and then forged ahead.

  I thought about Christian as I walked. So much time had passed now. I wished I could hear his voice again. But it was probably too late to get in touch with him. Besides, we had both moved on…or had I? When was “too late?” Why was I still thinking about him if I’d moved on? I felt a little squeeze on my heart. I had a flash of truth. It was difficult, here, to talk myself into how I should feel. Brushing off the past and moving forward was my way, rather my habit, of not dealing with what I needed to. But here, in this place…home…it was harder to lie to myself. The truth was I missed him. He’d been so amazing. We had been amazing together. All without a crumb of dishonesty. And it was the last and only time I‘d felt that pure kind of love.

  As I walked back, my mind wandered from images of Christian to Graham to Scott. I pushed the images of Christian away. I put them in a safe, special place, tucked away from the turmoil of Graham and even the distraction of Scott. And speaking of distractions, I made my way home and on to preparations for my date.

  That evening I realized I hadn’t brought anywhere close to enough clothes for the week. My frantic packing was definitely apparent. I had the same skirt I wore the night before, a few tops and only a few pairs of shorts. My mom noticed things flying out of my duffel, and the look on my face.

  “What is it, Emily?” She leaned against the door jamb.

  “Can I borrow a skirt or a sundress?” I held up my ratty jean shorts and tee shirt.

  “Of course, honey. Where are you going?” Oh, this was going to be an interesting conversation.

  “Just out with a friend. I won’t be home late.” I knew that wasn’t what she was asking but I hoped it would suffice.

  “OK.” I could see she was going to let it go; good. “Let’s see what we can find.” I followed her down the hall. She had a couple of cute sundresses I hadn’t seen before - and in the past she wouldn’t have let me wear them, but it seemed I was old enough now to be trusted. I picked a bright blue simple sundress with thick straps. It wouldn’t have been something I would’ve bought myself, but it was pretty cute. Luckily I had packed more than just flip-flops so I had a pair of sandals that would go with it just fine.

  “Is this one OK?” I asked.

  “I think that would look lovely on you, honey.” She lifted my chin and looked at me almost as if she was making sure I wasn’t wearing too much makeup or something.

  “What?” I asked perplexed.

  “You are really starting to look like your grandmother.”

  “What?” I turned back to the dress and she dropped her hand. “Not that there’s anything wrong with looking like Grandma, but I don’t think so.” But that got me to thinking. “How are they?”

  “Oh, you know. I hear about all their ailments, but mostly they’re fine.” She paused. “They miss you. They ask me about you all the time. They wonder when you’ll visit.”

  I sucked air through my teeth. “Yeah, I miss them too. I wish I could make a trip down there. If I had more time, I’d stop in on my way back to school.”

  “I know, honey.” She turned and I followed her out of her room.

  While I got dressed, I thought about them. My grandparents. They were truly the best. Even though they always said they would pay for college, I knew how unusual that was and I was truly grateful. They’d always been there for me. I couldn’t have asked for better family.

  I pushed some earrings through the holes in my ears and touched the dangling crystals with my fingertips. I was ready.

  I pulled up to the restaurant and saw Scott’s car immediately. Inside, he was at the bar talking to the bartender.

  “Hi.” I slid onto a stool.

  “Hi, Emily.” He pivoted toward me. “You look nice.” He touched my hand as he had before and leaned into me, kissing my cheek. The bartender went back to drying glasses but kept an eye on us and a smirk on his face.

  “Thank you,” I said a little nervously. He looked good too, but I didn’t think to say it. He wore jeans again; this time rip-free, and a white, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His white shirt set off his tan, and the green of his eyes seemed even more vivid. He was a good looking guy, and I was noticing.

  “Should we get a table or would you like to have a drink here first?” He tapped his finger on the bar.

  I was actually pretty hungry. “Oh, I think I’m ready to get a table if you are.” He swung his legs around and hopped off his stool with ease. Something that I could never have done. I scooted off my stool, trying to be as ladylike as possible. While we waited for the hostess, I felt Scott rest his hand in the middle of my back. I mentally replayed my “relax” mantra a few times before it took effect.

  During dinner the conversation came with ease. I wondered once or twice what we were doing there. He knew I was leaving in a couple of days, and I knew it, too. Our date seemed superfluous. Yet, here I was enjoying his company. I learned a few things about him that evening.

  He was majoring in Business at San Francisco State. He knew Doug, Shayla’s boyfriend, from football. He was from a small neighboring town where he lived with his parents (still married to each other) and two sisters. He seemed to have all of the northern California qualities including the summer pear orchard job. But there was something else about him I couldn’t quite pin down. Maybe it was spending the school year in San Francisco. Maybe living in
the city had added a little polish to him and I was picking it up. I wanted to know more, which kind of surprised me.

  After dinner I was completely stuffed. I ate everything on my plate, not the least bit self-conscious about it. That whole act of eating a little green salad on a date never really appealed to me. Scott was a good eater too, but that wasn’t unusual for a nineteen- year-old guy. At least not in my experience. We both relaxed after our plates were cleared.

  “I was thinking, Emily, maybe we could go out to the lake?” He paused and played nervously with his napkin. I thought it was cute.

  “That sounds nice.” And it did. It was a warm night and a walk by the lake sounded like a pleasant idea. I hadn’t been back since the summer before, and I always enjoyed being there. It was manmade and had once been a deep valley. It was a couple miles below the highway surrounded by camping spots. Leading to the lake was a long expanse of lush, green lawn spotted with purple clover. During the day you had to be careful not to step on the bumblebees, but at night you could run around without the threat of a sting. I’d spent every summer there since grade school.

  “Come on,” he said playfully taking my hand. We passed my car on the way to his.

  “Hang on a second.” I paused at my passenger door and reached inside for my sweater. It was a warm night, but you never know.

  “Nice car.” Scott commented with a smirk. Why did everyone have to make fun of my car? Yes it was old, big, and bright turquoise, but come on.

  “What? I love my car.” I swung the door shut, waiting for the creak and slam of older car doors. Scott just smiled, running his hand along the roof. He was making fun of me, but I didn’t really mind.