Dear Emily

by Fern Michaels

  Ivan was absolutely no help. He worked long hours, sometimes double shifts, and he avoided her as though she’d come down with a plague of some kind. He even avoided the sisters, saying only that Matt was coming along and would fully recover.

  On every one of her calls she asked the charge nurse if Matt had asked for her. She was always told the same thing: no. On those days when he was in therapy or out of the room, she left her name and a brief message—Get well soon.

  She’d made three trips with the sisters to Matt’s house, but it was closed up, which meant Matt’s sister must have taken the kids to her home, wherever that was.

  “My arm feels stiff and my shoulder aches,” Emily complained when she followed Sister Phillie out of the clinic. “Lord, I cannot wait to take a shower. Can I stand in there until the water runs cold, Sister?”

  “Absolutely. Look around, Emily. It’s typical October weather, cold, dreary, and rainy. That’s part of the reason your shoulder aches. I imagine you’ll feel it from now on as the weather changes.”

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this, Phillie. I thought Matt loved me. He said he did. I wish I knew if I really and truly loved him. It’s all mixed up for me. On that wild, crazy ride, I remember thinking this wasn’t what I’d signed up for. You know, thrills and excitement. I am what I am, a stick in the mud, a career person. The children…Matt loves and adores them and that’s the way it should be. I guess I’m just too selfish. I don’t know how to be a mother. I don’t even know if I want to be a stepmother. I’m all mixed up, Phillie.”

  “Then I guess you’ll have to get unmixed up. I do believe it’s time for you to make decisions. You must be the one to make them. Now, before we go to the hospital. You’ve had three very long weeks to do nothing but think about your relationship with Matt. In your sleep we heard you talk about Ben. I imagine…he’s part of all of this. Now, buckle up, you know I drive too fast.”

  “Then slow down, Sister,” Emily grumbled. “I’ve had enough speed to last me a lifetime.”

  An hour later, Emily, her hair damp dry, dressed in slacks and a hooded sweatshirt, climbed into the passenger side of the retreat’s van. The ride was made in virtual silence.

  In the parking lot, Phillie pulled up next to a florist’s van. Matt loved flowers. Maybe she should have sent him some. Maybe she should have done a lot of things. Maybe-maybemaybe…

  “We’re going to stop and see Mrs. Blanchard. It’s my duty. When she was in better shape, she used to bring her homemade lentil soup to the retreat. We threw it out because we couldn’t define the ingredients. She meant well.” Phillie rolled her eyes to show what she thought of Mrs. Blanchard’s culinary efforts.

  “Good idea,” Emily agreed.

  Mrs. Blanchard was a cantankerous curmudgeon who shrieked at them as they stood in the doorway. “Go away, I don’t need your prayers and your sticky, sweet words. Where were you when they were cutting off my big toe? Nowhere to be seen, that’s where. Go on, scat, get out of here and let me die in peace.”

  “People don’t die from amputated toes,” Phillie said knowledgeably.

  “You don’t know that for a fact. You’re no doctor. Let me die in peace.”

  “Will you be disappointed if you don’t die?” Phillie asked curiously.

  The woman stared at them, her mouth hanging open. Emily yanked at Phillie’s arm.

  “What was the point to all that?” Emily asked.

  “She’s afraid. She’s old. She uses nastiness as a defense. I’m going back. You go on down to the third floor and see Matt. I’ll meet you in the lobby. This lady needs me.”

  “All right, Sister,” Emily said, hugging her. Emily knew in her gut that Mrs. Blanchard would be at the Black Mountain Retreat for Thanksgiving and probably Christmas. God does work in mysterious ways, she thought as she made her way to the elevator.

  Emily peeked into Matt’s room. There was such an array of machinery, pulleys, contraptions, and wheelchairs she didn’t know where to look first. Where was the bed? She stepped into the room on tiptoe. Behind the curtain she could make out the dim outlines of a bed. Matt was being balanced on some kind of board attached to pulleys above the bed. Emily walked around the curtain.

  “Matt, it’s Emily.”

  “It’s nice you stopped by. I guess I should say thank you. They’re taking all this junk off me tomorrow. Then it will be physical therapy for a while. Life goes on,” he said flatly.

  “Yes, life goes on. We learn as we go along. I’m the living proof. My shoulder will heal and your body will heal. We’re alive—that’s what we have to remember. It was a stupid thing we did, Matt.”

  “We? It was my idea. I knew better. You…it was like I was trying to…to be young for you. To do something wild and reckless. I didn’t think about my kids. I didn’t think about anything but showing off for you. You were just as excited as I was. I thought women were supposed to have more sense, have that sixth sense everyone always talks about. Where was it that night?”

  “I think I’m missing something here, Matt. Are you blaming me for the accident? If you are, you need to change your thinking. I’m willing to take half the blame. It took me a long time to learn that each of us has to take responsibility for our actions. Obviously, we don’t know each other. And I was less than honest with you. I don’t just conduct exercise classes. I’m a corporation. I, along with a group of friends, own Emily’s Fitness Centers. We’re on the Stock Exchange. I wanted to tell you. But something held me back. I wanted to see, I guess, if you’d be interested in me—plain, old Emily. There’s something else too. I had a makeover. I didn’t always look like this. Face-lift, boob job, the works. I suppose I should have told you that too. I’ve come to the conclusion that I knew all along this was a summer fling, for want of a better word. Summer romances rarely work. In novels they do. However, this is my life and your life we’re talking about. It’s entirely possible both of us were in love with the word love. Some people would say we’re over the hill. Your children have to come first. You’re a father. I was never a parent. Starting with a ready-made family is not something I’m comfortable with. The bottom line is, Matt, I came here to say good-by.”

  “I see.”

  “That’s it? ‘You see’? Do you at least think I’m right?”

  “If it’s right for you, Emily, then it’s right. I believe I said I love you three or four times. You never said you loved me. I guess I knew you didn’t. That wild ride…that was to make you think I was exciting. Living in the mountains can be pretty boring. I knew you were a city girl. I kept asking myself what you would want with a guy like me. I live in a shitty little house, I can’t cook worth a damn, and my kids have some problems. I was born here and I’ll die here. You’re pretty much a free spirit. I can respect that. Why don’t we just say we had a nice summer and let it go at that? You’ll send me a Christmas card and I’ll have the kids send you one.”

  “I’m sorry, Matt.”

  “I am too, Emily. The sisters, when they talk about it, and they will talk about it, will say it was meant to be. They’ll console me with cakes and cookies and cheerful conversation. You should go now, Emily, before you have me blubbering in my beard. Christ, it itches. I can’t wait to shave it off.”

  “If there’s ever anything…”

  “I’ll call you. Get the hell out of here, Emily.”

  Tears streaming down her face, Emily blew him a kiss. She ran from the room. In the long corridor, she bumped into Phillie. Together they raced outside, where Emily collapsed in the nun’s warm arms. “I’m not sure why I’m crying, Phillie. For myself, I think. I think I wanted it to be otherwise, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be. Ben’s…Ben’s face kept getting in the way.”

  “Emily, honey, I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I think now might be a good time to speak up. I discussed this with the other sisters after your arrival. It’s not our way to interfere; I want you to understand that right off. Every summer Matt has…a romance with o
ne of our guests. I believe Rosie tried to tell you without actually saying every summer. We believe he was…is…looking for a mother for his children. Matt is a fine man. I personally believe he’s still in love with Caroline. He blames himself in so many ways for the way things turned out.”

  “If things had gotten serious between us, you know, marriage plans and the like, would you have spoken up, Phillie?”

  “I don’t know, Emily. Would you have accepted his proposal?”

  “I don’t know. I realize now I didn’t love him the way I loved Ian. That was a sick, obsessive love that never should have been. I was expecting those same feelings. Ben…my feelings for Ben were…are totally different. There weren’t any bells and whistles. I wanted…felt I deserved the bells and whistles.” A moment later she said, “Nah, I wouldn’t have said yes. It doesn’t say much for me, does it, Phillie?”

  “My dear, it says more than you know. Ben?”

  Emily’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Ben’s name. “I’m going to tell him about Matt. You know what, Phillie? He’ll understand. He’s given me so much, helped me in so many ways, and he never asked, expected, anything in return. I’m afraid. I don’t know if I can ever commit to anyone, ever again. My choices, Phillie, no one making them for me. Is this where you say, if it’s meant to be, it will be?”

  “I wouldn’t touch that for anything. You’ve come a long way, Emily. You still have some distance to travel, though. In my opinion. Think about your life, what you’ve accomplished, how you’ve turned your life around. Think about all the good you’ve done for others. Think about all the people who love you and whom you love. Take it one day at a time. You give, you get, a hundredfold. Trust me.”

  “That business with Ian up on the trail. Both times. It was me, wasn’t it? It was my own intelligence, my own spirit. It was never Ian. I wanted it to be Ian so bad. I wanted him to do just one grand, wonderful thing for me. Saving my life was the grandest thing I could think of. In the end I did it myself. Me. God, Phillie, it was me all the time. He fooled me, though. He left his entire estate to me. Did I ever tell you that?” There was such excitement in her voice, Phillie leaned back against the wall and smiled.

  “He did. It’s worth millions. Do you have any idea of the good I can do with that?”

  “I would hope you’d remember us and maybe build something here that we can tend to. There are a lot of women who could use our help and so many troubled children. Am I being too forward?”

  “God, no. I’ll take care of it, Phillie.”

  “Let’s go sit in the car and puff on some cigarettes,” Phillie said. “You have some, don’t you?”

  “You bet—two whole packs under the seat. Thanks, Phillie, for everything. Listen, I can send you cigarettes once a month and some really good whiskey and brandy.”

  “We’d like that a lot, Emily,” Phillie said, drawing deeply on the cigarette in her hand.

  Emily blew a perfect smoke ring, which Phillie matched. “I think I’ll head out this afternoon. I don’t have much to pack. Hell, I could just hop in the jeep and go. You can give my stuff away. Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going home, Phillie. I think the word home is the most beautiful, the sweetest word in the English language. Did you hear me, Phillie, I’m going home!”

  “I heard you and I think it’s wonderful. Give me another cigarette.”

  An hour later with her overnight case and shoulder bag slung over her shoulder, Emily said her good-byes to all the nuns. There were tears and promises to write and to return for visits from time to time. When she handed over the remaining packages of cigarettes, the sisters lit up immediately. Her send-off was completed in a cloud of smoke. Emily drove with her left hand on the steering wheel, her right hand flapping back and forth in a wild waving motion until the black-garbed figures faded from her rearview mirror.

  She was going home.

  Emily walked into the house on Sleepy Hollow Road a little before midnight. Clad in her flannel shirt, cords, and hiking boots, shearling jacket over her arm, she shouted, “Hey, I’m home!”

  They came on the run, from all directions, their slippers flip-flopping on the hardwood floors, their robes swishing about their ankles. “Emily! God, you’re home. This calls for a toast. Jeez, you look like a million dollars! We missed you! We really missed you! Does Ben know you’re back?”

  “I just decided to come back this morning. I would have been here sooner, but I had a layover in Atlanta for a few hours. I’m so glad to be back home,” Emily said, hugging each of her friends in turn. “Just this morning I told Sister Phillie that the sweetest word in the English language is home. I could use a drink. I have stories to tell and secrets to share.”

  “Ben?”

  Emily smiled. “Tomorrow, when the day is new and fresh, I’ll call Ben. Tonight is for us. I need to thank all of you again for…for being you, for being my friends when I needed friends the most…the whole nine yards. Come on, let’s get into our campfire circle and yack till the sun comes up. I missed that. Wow, look at those herbs on the windowsill! They were just buds when I left.”

  “You were gone a long time,” Martina said.

  “Yes, but I’m back. Isn’t it funny how the one place in the world that will always welcome you is home. That one place we consider to be safe, that place that warms your heart. Shit, I wish I was a writer so I could express it better.”

  “I think you did a pretty good job of it just now. You’re right. It’s that wonderful, warm house that welcomes you at the end of the day and greets you the first thing in the morning.”

  In the basement they formed their usual circle and sat cross-legged. Fuzzy Navels in long-stemmed glasses were passed around by the Demster twins. “I think we should make our first toast to HOME. Our home,” Emily said.

  “Hear, hear!” they chorused.

  “To home!”

  Emily woke slowly, and knew instantly that she was home in her own bed. She stretched luxuriously as she stared at the young rays of sun creeping into her room. A new day. Maybe this was the first day of her new life. No, that can’t be, she told herself. This wasn’t her new life and it wasn’t her old life either. It was simply life. Her life that she’d made better by caring and sharing.

  The bedside clock, a gift from Matt on her birthday, said it was five forty-five. That meant she’d slept a total of one hour. She stretched again. Damn, she felt good. Rested, raring to go. Where? To Ben’s house, of course.

  That’s it, Emily, finish up one affair and go on to good old Ben. Tacky. You don’t deserve Ben. She kicked off her slippers and slid back into bed. With the pillows propped up behind her, and a cigarette that was making her cough, she tried to bring her thoughts to some kind of order. Yes, she was back. Yes, she and her friends were together and they weren’t blaming her for her long vacation. They understood about Matt. None of them had chastised her for her fling. “As long as it helped you get your shit together,” Nancy said. She crushed out the cigarette. She hated smoking in her bedroom; and only did it when she was confronting a stressful situation.

  What is it I’m looking for? How am I supposed to know “it” when and if I do find it? This was probably one of those times when she should be making a list. And then she thought about the list Ian had made of the things she wanted. Be careful, Emily, you just might get what you wish for. Better to think and not commit to paper. Go to Ben, talk to him, explain your feelings. Settle your goddamn life already! It’s time.

  At seven-thirty, Emily was barreling down Watchung Avenue on her way to Ben’s house. She stopped for Dunkin Donuts and two cups of their own special coffee at the shop on Park Avenue. Fifteen minutes later she was ringing Ben’s doorbell. When there was no response after three long peals, she used her key, opened the door, and called Ben’s name. A quick trip to the kitchen and upstairs convinced her Ben wasn’t in the house. Where could he be so early on a Sunday morning? He liked to sleep in on the weekends. She looked around the t
idy rooms and felt as though she was trespassing. She let herself out, locked the door, and sat down on the stoop, where she drank both cups of coffee and ate three donuts. She was finishing her third cigarette when Ben swerved into his parking space, tooted the horn, and waved. She didn’t move. He looked great in his sweats. For one, wild moment she felt as though her heart had turned over in her chest.

  “Been waiting long?” he asked coolly.

  “Not that long.” Why wasn’t he swooping her into his arms? Why wasn’t he saying something like, God, Emily, I thought you were never coming back? Maybe she was supposed to do the talking and moving. She felt like it. Wanted to do it. Then goddamn it, do it!

  “Looks like you drank my coffee. Did you at least save me one of those donuts? Come on, I’ll make some fresh. I was up at the crack of dawn to get Ted ready. I waited with him till his flight was called.”

  “Did you have a nice visit? Of course you did; I don’t even know why I said that. I want to say so many things, Ben, I don’t know where to start. I want…expected you to…swoop me up and kiss me till I cried for mercy. Right now I feel kind of lost. I don’t know why that is. I couldn’t wait to see you. Look at me, Ben, that damn coffee can wait. We need to…to…talk.”

  Ben settled the basket of coffee grounds firmly in the pot, turned it on, and then faced Emily. “I’m listening.”

  “We, Ben. Not just me. Us.”

  “Wrong. I did all my talking. You know how I feel, what I want. You talk.”

  “You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?” Emily said miserably.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “I wanted…expected…bells and whistles. I wanted my blood to sing. I thought if I imagined those things, I would know I was in love. Maybe that only happens in novels and movies. Damn it, I wanted that. My life, my marriage, it was so screwed up…what did I know? Out in the woods I had a lot of time to think. The funny thing is, I didn’t realize I was thinking until…well, until I made charts, lists, memorized inspirational sayings that I thought I could apply to my life. And…I came to the conclusion that…well, what I…I did was…I put you…our relationship right up there with home. Safe, happy, warm. You know, when things aren’t going well, and you go home and sort of snuggle in…I know I’m not explaining this right. Don’t say anything, Ben. I have to get this out in my own way. That house on Sleepy Hollow Road was, and still is, my sanctuary. That’s how I feel about you. It must be love, Ben, because if you…if you moved or left me, I’d be…devastated. Just the way I’d feel if I lost the house on Sleepy Hollow Road. Now, if you put that together, it tells me I’m in love with you. I never said that to you before because I wasn’t sure…I’m about as sure now as I can be. I don’t want to get married right away. That piece of paper scares me. I don’t really want to live in sin either. Those nuns got to me. They drink and smoke—did I tell you that? And they play five-card stud on Sunday afternoons. Sunday yet! Now, you can say something.”