by M. Sembera
I grabbed a pair of socks out of my duffle and carried them with me downstairs.
Emerson glared at me as I trotted down the stairs, still in my pajamas.
“Hey,” I greeted Jackson as I sat on the couch and put on my socks.
I guessed Emerson was upset with me. Not getting dressed was a bit spiteful.
Jackson had an eager smile across his face as he asked, “So how’s it going?”
“Like you don’t already know,” I answered sharply.
“Geez girl, I’m just trying to be nice,” he fussed with words just as sharp.
I stared at him for a minute, flashed a halfhearted smile and replied, “Okay, I’m doing okay.”
The smile returned to his face as he sat down in the chair across from me. Not knowing what to say, I sat quietly while Emerson and Jackson talked about some game from last week. It was hard to believe two years had gone by. Jackson looked the same, short blond hair, stocky build, and that smile. It was a contagious smile. He really was trying to be nice. I didn’t deserve nice.
Memories flickered in my mind of the last time I talked to him. Guilt poured over me as I recalled the last words I spoke to Jackson, ‘Just stay out of it! I’m fine here! I don’t need you telling me what’s best for me! Leave me alone!’ And that is exactly what he did. Sometimes, you can’t see the truth even when you know it’s there. Clearly, my thoughts about his intentions were misguided. Jackson was not here to revel in my depression. He was here as my friend.
Emerson excused himself from the living room to give breakfast requests to Fidora. Close to being left alone, Jackson leaned forward. I remembered Em saying ‘He wants to talk to you.’ Every muscle in my body seemed to tighten as I waited for what he would say.
“Roberts said you had a rough night,” he shared almost whispering.
Immediately defensive, I stated “I will be fine.”
“So?” he asked.
My eyes widened as I repeated, “So?”
“What happened?” he questioned.
“I don’t want to talk about it Jacks!” I blurted before lowering my voice to ask, “Why do you care?”
He leaned in a little closer.
At a whisper, he questioned, “I was just wondering, after everything HE put you through, what finally made you walk away?”
Stunned at his words, I quietly asked “Why?”
Then came the words I was dreading.
With a look of disbelief, Jackson replied, “'Cause it wasn’t us. I mean you just turned your back on our friendship.”
Trying to deny his facts, I insisted, “I didn’t turn my back on you! You stopped talking to me!”
“You told me too!” he argued, gritting his teeth.
Angered by these truthful words, I stood straight up, threw my hands up and yelled, “Em never stopped being my friend.”
Then he was on his feet too.
Leaning down to look me right in the eye, he yelled back, “You never told Roberts to leave you alone!”
I wanted to hit him, but I knew he was right. Jackson sat back down.
“Ren,” he started, slowly looking up at me before informing, “I didn’t stop talking to you because of what you said to me.”
Softening my expression, I stepped closer to him and gently touched his face.
“I just couldn’t… I couldn’t keep pretending everything was okay,” he shared, hanging his head.
Barely whispering, with my eyes filling with tears, I breathed, “Jacks.”
He pulled me closer to him, resting his head on the inside of my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pushing myself closer so I could sit with him.
Jackson’s voice was sad as he said, “It was like you weren’t you anymore. I couldn’t see you like that. You just…it wasn’t you.”
How had I been able to be so mean to Jackson? My heart started to ache.
Looking up, I saw Emerson standing in the doorway with a slight smile on his face. He seemed pleased with our reconciliation. I shrugged and smiled back at Em just before he walked back out of the room. A few more minutes passed before Jackson leaned away from me.
“Don’t ever put me through that again,” he said with his voice still sad.
Always so self-centered, how was this now all about him? I should have been mad but I let it go. Looking into his eyes, I made the promise. Hating to admit I was wrong, I started to wonder if I had ever been right about anything. Jackson was smiling again and I was relieved. Maybe I finally did something right. Jackson had the best smile. It would warm your heart to see it. I missed that smile. That was the same smile I said yes to so many years ago; the smile that made the transition from together to friend so easy.
While caught up in memories of his smile, he startled me by saying, “Oh! Did Hert…”
I tilted my head and widened my eyes.
“I mean…” he back tracked, instantly regretting his words.
Freezing at the name, it took me a minute to catch my breath.
I could feel the corners of my mouth turning down as I asked, “You saw Hert?”
Jackson gave me a strange look, saying, “Yea.”
Scott Herterand, or ‘Hert,’ was the first to give up on me and would definitely be the last to forgive me, if he did at all.
Sensing my disappointment, Jacks assured, “He’ll come around.”
Finding it hard to believe, I argued, “No. He won’t! You weren’t there!”
Sick and sad all over again, I was still withdrawing from HIM and every memory was tearing at my heart. I had to get away from Jackson.
I pulled away from Jackson, slid my socks off and ran up the stairs. Standing in the doorway of Emerson’s room, I didn’t want to fall apart again. Slowly, I made my way to the bed and crawled under the covers. It had been way too much to handle. I gave it a shot and I made it as long as I could. Wrapping my arms around my pillow, I cried until everything went dark.
Awakened by drawers opening and closing, I peeked out from under the comforter. Emerson must have known all the noise would wake me. He slowly walked over to the bed and sat down.
“Are you awake?” he whispered.
Why was he asking? Wasn’t he purposely making noise?
Pulling my head from under the covers, I looked up at him and replied, “Yea.”
Appearing pleased with himself, he informed, “I had The Store send over some clothes for you.”
I must have looked confused, because he then explained, “I thought maybe you didn’t have anything to wear.”
Clearly Emerson had missed my attempt at spitefulness.
Smiling, I said, “Thanks.”
“You did a lot better than I thought you would this morning,” he offered, before standing up and grabbing bags of clothes.
I watched him for little while, putting clothes in drawers and grabbing hangers. It made me laugh a little inside, never having seen Emerson do everyday tasks. Then, my cheeriness faded as I thought of Jackson.
“Is he mad at me?” I asked.
Emerson did not turn when he asked, “Who?” and continued putting clothes away.
I gave him a strange look and replied, “Jackson.”
Slowly turning while shaking his head, Em walked over to me.
“Why would he be mad at you?” he was almost laughing.
“I think, I kind of …. Well I …” I couldn’t seem to explain.
Emerson sat back down placing his hands on my shoulders, his brown eyes soft and full of sympathy.
He said, “I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for us to see you like this but Ren it’s better…better than...it’s just better,” with an unsure voice.
Knowing what Emerson thought it was ‘better than’, I pulled my knees into my chest and covered my face with my hands. Taking deep breaths and fighting the urge to cry, it was like being stabbed in the heart. My chest felt like it would cave in. Better than being with HIM, that’s what he meant. How could he think this was better? How was th
is better? Right maybe but not better! I folded my arms on top of my knees and laid my head down on them.
My heart was pounding and my chest was aching as I choked out, “It’s never going to be better.”
Then the tears came again. As painful as it was to be with HIM, it was excruciating without HIM.
Chapter 3
Somewhere during Emerson’s better talk and my panic attack, I must have fallen asleep. For the first time in three days, I didn’t feel like sleeping. I rolled over to see if Emerson was awake but he wasn’t there. I glanced at the clock seeing it was around one in the morning before I got up and made my way to the bathroom. The shower didn’t make me sleepy either. Rummaging through the drawers, I found something to put on. I was headed to the stairs when I heard Emerson’s voice. Curious, I looked over the balcony to find out who he was talking to.
My knees gave out and the room started spinning as I heard him say, “She needs you... It doesn’t matter… Hert.”
I couldn’t believe it. Hert was the last person I needed. Thoughts of Hert’s voice saying ‘you disgust me’ and ‘I hate you’ made me dizzy. Grabbing my chest, I turned to run but I couldn’t move. My legs collapsed under me. I fell to the floor gasping, unable to catch my breath. Heaving and sobbing on the floor. I reclaimed my despair.
I woke with jerk, disoriented, finding myself back in bed. Emerson was gently brushing strands of hair from my face.
“I’m really worried about you Ren,” he said in a careful voice.
With hurt in my voice, I questioned, “How could you?”
He just stared at me.
“Why did you call Hert?” I questioned with contempt.
Still, he only stared. I caught him betraying me and he couldn’t say anything.
My hands pushed against his chest as hard as they could as I shouted, “You are a traitor! You do not know what’s best for me!”
Emerson looked at me with disbelief but remained silent.
Full of hurt and anger, I continued, stressing, “I don’t need you! Or anyone else!”
Finally he spoke.
As if I hadn’t just yelled at him, Em informed, “Jackson has work, so it’s just me and you today.”
Was I really losing my mind? Didn’t he hear what I said? My mouth hung open as I shook my head. Had I finally snapped and lost all touch with reality? Maybe it would be a good thing to completely go off the deep end. Maybe it would be easier. Unfortunately, that wasn’t what was happening. You can’t say ‘You don’t know what’s best for me’ and expect to be taken seriously when it is so obviously a lie. Emerson was right. I needed him.
Hert and I were friends before I met Em or Jacks. We were practically born into friendship. Our families were very close and we spent all our time together as far back as I can remember. It was not an easy friendship. He wasn’t sweet and endearing like Emerson or cheerful like Jackson. He was hard. I started calling him Hert when we were seven. We were arguing and I gave him a bloody nose because he pushed me. Looking like he might cry, I taunted him saying, ‘Awe did Herterand get hurt?’ as he stomped off. For the next few weeks, I was determined to add insult to injury by saying things like, ‘Is Herterand still hurt? Maybe he should cry some more if he’s hurt,’ until I just started saying hurt every time I had the opportunity. Hurt turned into Hert when others overheard and it mistook it for a short version of his last name. It made him mad for the first few months and then finally, he gave up and just went with it. Strong is what you had to be to stay friends with Hert. He wasn’t friendly and he always said whatever he wanted, no matter how it made other people feel. It’s possible that if my devotion to HIM hadn’t consumed everything I had in me, I would have been stronger the last time I saw Hert and I wouldn’t have walked way. I would have stood my ground and fought. Yelled back or maybe bloodied his nose again. Truthfully, I was the one that walked away and for Hert, it was a betrayal that could not be forgiven.
Feeling guilty for my words, I slid over and put my arms around Emerson. He in turn, wrapped his around me.
“He won’t come Em,” I stated before informing, “Hert doesn’t forgive.”
Emerson flexed his arms a little and said, “Um… I think you’re wrong about that.”
I moved back, not breaking free but able to make eye contact.
“I’m not,” I insisted.
“Didn’t Jackson tell you?” he questioned.
Em wasn’t making any sense.
“Uh, what did Jackson tell you?” he asked carefully.
Growing more confused by the second, I said, “That he’d come around.”
Em looked just as confused as I felt.
His expression changed back to concern as he offered, “Let’s go downstairs. You need to eat.”
Not being able to remember the last time I ate, I gave him no resistance.
I followed him downstairs and into the kitchen. Feeling a smile spread across my face, I shook my head and tried to conceal my amusement at Emerson fixing me a sandwich. This was another first.
“I had Fidora pickup all your favorites before she left for the weekend,” he informed me.
Completely shocked, I blurted, “What?” then asked, “Since when does she leave?”
He always had round the clock help.
“Ren, a lot has changed since…” he started to say before trailing off.
I was sure he didn’t want to say anything that would send me straight back to bed. It had been a long time since I was here. HE didn’t like how close Em and I were. It had been years. Emerson and I met for lunch once a month at different local restaurants but never here. Looking very proud, Em set my plate on the table in front of me. He sat at the table with me while I ate.
“This is really good. Thank you.”
With a sobering look, he urged, “We need to talk.”
“About what?” I asked, fearful of his answer.
In a stern voice Emerson stated, “I want to know what happened with you and HIM.”
I looked away and replied, “Why do you need to know? Can’t you just …. I can’t talk about it.”
Realizing an explanation would bring on another episode, he leaned his head to the side and conceded, “I guess it doesn’t matter. What matters is you are here and you are not going back. Right?”
There was serious concern in his statement. I nodded to confirm that I was not going back, relieved that was all the information he required.
We walked to the living room and sat down on the couch. I curled up next to Em.
He put one arm around me and said, “It’s good to have you back Ren.”
Nudging a little closer, I said, “I missed you.”
Emerson turned to face me, those big brown eyes staring into my soul. I took a shallow breath.
He whispered, “I love you Rennillia.”
“I love you too Em,” I whispered back.
Things were just as they should be. If I ever had a doubt, it had vanished. This was where I was supposed to be. Emerson only had my best interest at heart. Snuggling back down in his arms, I knew leaving HIM was the right decision, as I drifted back to sleep.
Hours later I found myself back in Emerson’s room. I looked around and saw Em sitting in the chair by the bed.
Not fully awake, I asked, “What time is it?”
He smiled and said, “It’s about eleven thirty, did you sleep good?”
Smiling back at him, I said, “What are you doing?”
His smile grew wider as he explained, “I was waiting for you to wake up sweetie.”
Feeling very well rested, I thought today might be a better day than the rest.
“I’ll be downstairs in a little bit; I’m going to get dressed,” I informed as I jumped out of bed.
As I turned to give him a little smile, I noticed a change in his expression.
“I didn’t call Hert. He called here. He’s been calling since you got here,” Em explained.
Giving him a slight nod, I stated, “I
don’t need an explanation. You can talk to whoever you want.”
Emerson stood up and walked over to me.
Sounding stern, his eyes focused on me as he said, “He wasn’t calling to talk to me, Ren.”
Not knowing what to say, I just stared at Emerson. I heard him last night. Clearly, he had been trying to convince Hert to make amends with me.
He broke the silence by saying, “I know you Ren, you just decide how people are going to be and don’t really give them a chance to show you.”
Cutting Em off before he could tell me what people wanted to show me I fussed, “Didn’t I say you can talk to whoever you want? So let me add a ‘about whatever they want’ and I do not need an explanation! Now go out so I can get dressed!”
Emerson gave me a frustrated look then left the room. I didn’t want to start the day out irritated but it was better than depressed, so I got dressed and headed downstairs.
Walking down the stairs, I noticed Em quickly hang up the phone.
He looked up at me and said, “I won’t explain.”
I had to laugh a little when I said, “Oh, shut up.”
Em was trying to be funny and it was working. We spent the rest of the day watching movies and reliving old times. Like the time I ran down the stairs in my socks and ended up slipping and flying the rest of the way, after that, I never went up or down the stairs with socks on. And the time he thought it would be fun to have a paint ball war and we both ended up with black eyes and bruised everywhere. Laughing the rest of the day away, we fell asleep on the couch with my cheeks aching from the smile that was permanently fixed on my face all evening.
Chapter 4
Morning came early. Letting Em sleep, I got up as quiet as I could and made my way to the kitchen. Looking in the refrigerator for something to eat, I heard the phone ring. I ran over to answer it before it woke Emerson.
“Roberts’ residence,” I said, answering the phone.
There was no response.
“Hello?” I questioned.
There was a brief pause before I heard, “Renni? Is that you?”
It took me a second to recognize the voice.
“Hert?” I asked.
There was another pause.
“Yea,” said the voice on the other end.