by KB Alan
Pulling back, she started walking to the parking garage, holding her mom’s hand. “Okay, I’m better now. Who’s there with Dad?”
Tina laughed. “He’s sent almost everyone home and he knew you would feel better if I picked you up, so he made me come and let your cousin Tony and his wife stay. Everyone else got kicked out. It will be fine, sweetheart, they’re already treating it and expect he’ll be going home tomorrow.”
They reached the car and Emma had to stand at the door for a whole second letting that sink in before she could get in. When she did, her mom was watching her. “I was so scared.”
“I know, mija. Me too.”
They both took deep breaths, and then her mother drove them straight to the hospital. Within half an hour of landing, she was at her father’s bedside, working hard not to lose it again, trying to channel her relief a different way. Her father made it easier by making her laugh. Even though they were there for him, he knew that she needed his help and didn’t hesitate to give it to her.
By the time her father kicked them out of his room as well, it was late. They’d eaten at the hospital, but it wasn’t exactly a lasting meal, so they set about making a snack. When her mother pulled down two wineglasses, Emma raised her eyebrows at her.
“Indulge me. I’m not going to be ready to go to sleep any time soon.”
Nodding, Emma put the food on the table and opened the wine bottle that her mom handed her.
“Let’s not talk about your father for a while,” Tina said. “Tell me how things are with your man.”
Emma could only imagine the look that came across her face since her mother’s immediate reaction was to apologize.
“I’m sorry, sweetie, I didn’t know that was the wrong thing to say.”
With a sigh, Emma took a large drink from her wine.
“No, it’s all right. The truth is, I broke up with him after I talked to you. Um, over voicemail. I haven’t checked my phone since I turned it off on the plane to see if he’s responded at all.”
“Voicemail? Really?”
“I know, not very cool. I guess I was in shock after you called about Dad and while I was waiting for Dana to get home and take me to the airport, I realized that there was no reason to keep delaying the inevitable. We knew it wasn’t going to last, but we were determined to enjoy it until the end. Well, finals are about to start, I didn’t know how long I was going to be out here, it just seemed as if it was close enough to the end I might as well get it done. Then I could have one less thing to worry about while I was here and once I get home and focus on finishing up at school.”
“I see. And why was it inevitable that you would break up?”
“For one thing, he lives there, I’ll be living here.”
“People do move, you know.”
“He’s never said he’d be willing to consider coming out here.”
“And you’re not willing to stay there?”
“The store is here. You guys are here.”
“Isn’t that pretty unfair, to want him to give up those things, but not be willing to do it yourself?”
Emma poured more wine. She was clearly going to need it. “It is. Which is why I wouldn’t ask him to do it. But, you know, our store is our store. He could work at any police station. He’s not very close with his coworkers. He’s not at all close with his family. And that’s actually the bigger problem. He has issues—”
Her mom’s laughter interrupted her and she had to join in.
“I know, I know. We all have issues.”
“I’m glad you know. But before you tell me about his, I’d like to point out that as much as we’d love you to take over the store, to stay here where we can see you all the time, it’s a reality of life that people move on, move away. Families don’t always stay in the same place. You never know, I may convince your father to retire to Florida.”
Emma laughed at the idea. “Well, I guess I’m glad to hear you say that, though it’s hard to imagine living with all that winter permanently. I do love our weather. And I love our store, but if I worked at it, I’m sure I could find or build something that I would love just as much out there.”
“But there are issues.”
She sighed, dipped an eggroll in sauce and bit in. God, she could never make them quite as good as her mother’s. One of the things she looked forward to doing when she moved back was cooking more with both her parents. That hadn’t been something she’d been very interested in when she’d lived at home, but now, after spending time with her extended families, and after living on her own, she really looked forward to it.
“I met his parents. And they were awful. They don’t care a thing for Drew or his brother. It was just…bad. He grew up with that, and apparently it got worse and worse as he got older. I’m not sure he even realizes how much that affected him.”
“That’s hard to even understand.”
“I know. Even after witnessing it, I have a hard time wrapping my brain around it. Then in college, he gets very close to his friend Toby, probably the first time he’s had that close of a relationship with someone, which then extends to Toby’s wife, Caroline.”
“This doesn’t sound as if it’s going to end well,” her mother commented.
Emma sighed. “Not so much. She was killed in a car crash. Toby was devastated and Drew spent a lot of time helping him get through that. But I think it reinforced his need to keep his distance from people. Not to form permanent relationships.”
“So he doesn’t do girlfriends?” Her mom’s eyes narrowed at her.
“He doesn’t, but he’s not a player, either. He was very up-front with me about what we could have from the beginning. And since I knew I was leaving, I was okay with that.”
She couldn’t hold back the blush at her mother’s knowing look, and tried desperately to keep her brain from remembering every kinky thing she’d ever done, knowing it would somehow show on her face.
Her mother laughed. “You’ve always been a good girl, Emma. Made your father and me very proud. I’m not going to give you a lecture on safety and responsibility because you are responsible, and we trust you. I’m glad to know you were able to let loose a bit in college.”
Too many thoughts ran through her head so fast she thought it might spin. She focused on the conversation they’d been having, though she tucked that little speech away to take out later and think on.
“I told him I love him.”
Now her mother showed surprise, poured more wine for herself.
“I know,” Emma said. “I never thought it would be possible for me to fall in love with someone I hadn’t even introduced you guys to. This whole thing has been…surreal, I guess you could say. Not what I imagined for the first time I said those words to someone.”
“And can you imagine saying them to someone else?”
She swallowed, hard. “No. Tell me that will change. Tell me I’ll get past this, and find something better, something more right for me, and be happy again.”
Her mom covered her hand. “You will find happiness. That I can guarantee.”
The implication that she might still find it with Drew had tears pricking behind her eyes.
“He can’t—he won’t let me in all the way. I think, after Caroline, he was so focused on helping Toby, he never really grieved her loss for himself. Just shut even more of himself off than already was, and decided it wasn’t worth the risk to open himself up to that kind of pain.”
The hand holding hers tightened in commiseration.
“We’ve known loss. We got past it, but it wasn’t easy.”
“I don’t know how to help him. I don’t think he realizes he needs help.”
Her mother pulled back, took a drink, leveled her gaze on Emma. “I almost slipped away. When we lost your brother. I look back now, and it scares me how close I was to slipping over the edge, giving into the grief. I didn’t, but it was close. I missed him so much. Not just the him of right then, but who he was supposed to be. My
little boy, becoming a man. The pain was so huge, I can’t even…” She shook her head. “It’s still there, of course. I think about him every day, my little Michael.”
She fingered her glass, studied its contents.
“But we couldn’t give into it, your father and I. We didn’t talk about it, we didn’t talk about much during that period. But luckily, we both came to it about the same time.” She cleared her throat, but still, when she spoke, her voice was thick, bringing tears to Emma’s eyes.
“He took you fishing. You were young, but not so young you didn’t understand what was happening. Not so young you didn’t hurt so big on your own, plus the pain and confusion of seeing your parents so devastated. We both saw it. So he took you fishing. And I forced myself to be alive, to be there, with you and him, every day, instead of in my head, in my grief. And we learned that we could live. Live with the pain, the loss, yes. But not in it.”
Emma let the tears escape, “You’re good parents.” She sighed. “But he didn’t have that kind of loss. Yes, he loved Toby’s wife. But she wasn’t his. Could it have been that huge for him? Like it was for you?”
Mom drank more wine, was quiet for a minute before she spoke.
“You know how you hate to get a shot? At the doctor?”
Emma wrinkled her nose.
“Yes, you hate it. But you haven’t had one for years. And if you did, you’d get over it in a minute. The shot is unpleasant, yes, but it’s not that bad. But it becomes this huge thing as you build it up, the longer you wait. It’s not the shot that’s so terrible, it’s the anticipation.”
Emma made a face making it clear she wasn’t sure she agreed, but neither was she going to argue.
“It’s like that, I think. For him, maybe it’s like that. What if you had a shot, at a young age. It wasn’t so bad, but you hated it, detested it, so of course, the thought of another became this terrible anticipation and dread. But then, someone tells you, shows you, that no matter how bad you thought that first shot was, there was another one in store for you and it would be ten times worse. Maybe fifty times.”
Emma let that sink in without comment for a few minutes. The she said quietly, “I gave up on him. Didn’t fight for him.”
“You told him you love him. You told me you love him.”
“In some ways, I’ve shown him. But I need to do better. I need to not only show him that I love him, but that he loves me too, and that it’s a good thing, for both of us.”
“Yes, for both of you. You need to make sure he understands, really believes, that having him in your life is a good thing for you. Not just the other way around.”
“He doesn’t think he’s good enough for me,” she said, understanding dawning.
“He doesn’t think he can give you what he’s never had.”
She nodded, and poured the last of the wine into their two glasses.
Her mother began to speak, but was interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. Checking her watch as she rose, Emma saw that it was just after eleven. Way too late for anyone to be at the door. In the old days, that wouldn’t have made her hesitate to open the door, but since knowing Drew, she was more cautious of safety. She left the light in in the living room off, easily making her way through to the door. The porch light was always on, set to a sensor that turned it on at dusk and off at dawn, so when she looked through the peephole, she knew she’d be able to see. But she never would have expected to see Drew. Her shock was so complete that she just stood there staring for a whole minute, until Drew raised his hand and knocked again, this time a little louder.
She threw the door open and jumped into his arms without hesitation. He staggered back but caught her, his arms tight around her, his voice in her ear. “Oh baby, is it your dad?”
It felt like so much had happened since she’d left the voicemail for Drew, she forgot that he wasn’t up-to-date. Without letting him go, she shook her head. “No. No, he’s going to be fine. I was so scared, but by the time I landed, they knew he would be fine. It wasn’t a heart attack, he’s getting treatment and they should be releasing him tomorrow.”
He squeezed her even more tightly. “I’m so glad to hear that, Emma. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you were scared.”
She pulled back, just a little, so she could see his face. “That’s my fault, not yours. I didn’t ask you. I’m so sorry, Drew. I can’t even believe I left that voicemail. I’d like to say I was out of my head, but the truth is I let my fears and doubts get the better of me, and I gave up on you, on us, when I shouldn’t have.”
“No, baby,” he interrupted, causing her heart to seize. “It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. You didn’t ask me, because you didn’t trust me to be there. And you didn’t trust me to be there because I haven’t given you reason to. All my fault.”
The sound of her mother clearing her throat behind her finally had her pulling free of Drew’s arms and stepping back. She blushed.
“Um. Mom, this is Drew. Drew, my mother Tina.”
“Mrs. Lee, I’m sorry to intrude on your doorstep so late, but I’m glad to hear your husband is going to be all right.”
“Thank you, Drew. Come inside. I hope you brought a bag? It’s late, why don’t you kids get settled into Emma’s room and we’ll talk in the morning.”
Emma stood there speechless while Drew started to say that wasn’t necessary, but her mother shooed him to his rental car to get his bag, ushered them inside and upstairs and assured Drew that Emma could point him to the clean towels in the morning. Her mother went into her bedroom and was closing the door when she stuck her head out.
“Don’t worry, I’m getting old, my hearing isn’t so good anymore.”
“Mom!” Emma half gasped, half shouted, but the door was already closed.
She looked at Drew and he was blinking at her in either astonishment or confusion. Since she was experiencing both, she couldn’t blame him. She just ushered him into her childhood bedroom, which, thankfully, was at the other end of the hall from her parents. He put his bag down next to the bed and stared at her. The confusion slowly drifted off his face, replaced by uncertainty.
“Emma, I don’t have to stay. I don’t expect you to trust me right away, after what I’ve put you through.”
Her heart swelled and she launched herself at him.
Chapter Nineteen
Drew caught Emma, again. And knew that nothing would ever feel as amazing as knowing that she loved him, despite the way he’d acted. He gently pushed her back, just enough that he could cup her face in his hands. What he saw there nearly knocked his legs out from under him. She loved him. And she wasn’t afraid to show it. It was all there, written across her face. He worried that some of it was due to the emotional upheaval of her father’s illness. That was okay. He’d be working hard, from now on, to show her that her love for him was deserved.
Taking a slow breath, he pulled back a little farther. Gave her the look. Her body stilled in that indefinable way and her attention on him intensified as she waited to see what he would do. What he would ask of her. He lifted a finger to her lips to indicate she should be silent. She kissed his finger and dropped her hands to her sides.
He picked them up, rubbing his thumb along her hand, speaking softly, knowing she would work to hear his words. “I love your hands. Your fingers. Not just when they’re on me, which is always wonderful.” He kicked his bag out of their way and moved them closer to the bed as he continued to speak. “But even when you’re not naked, your hands are beautiful. Handing me a coffee cup, full of whatever fancy thing you’ve made for me, holding a menu. My favorite, though, is when you hold your hair back. Sliding your fingers in at your temple to rest your hand against the side of your face and keep your hair clear.”
He reached behind her to pull back the covers on the bed, but kept his gaze on her face, her reaction. Oh yeah, that was the soft look, with an awful lot of wonder in it for someone with healthy self-esteem. A reminder that no matter how much
a woman was confident in herself, she still liked to hear her man tell her she was beautiful. At least his woman did.
“That’s another thing. I love your hair. So silky and shiny like one of those ridiculous shampoo commercials.” He indulged himself by sliding a strand through his fingers, then stepped quickly away to turn on the bedside lamp and turn off the main light switch. From the corner of his eye he saw her mirroring his action as if she’d never felt her own hair before. She dropped her hand when he came back in front of her.
“Then there’s your eyes. Amazing, your eyes. The color goes from dark gold to light brown, depending on the light, but also your mood. And your arousal. Oh yeah, I really, really like to watch your eyes get brighter and brighter, like they are right now. Your hair was the first thing I noticed about you, but your eyes, I think they were the thing that really made me want to take the risk of being with you.”
She stared at him, didn’t try to say anything, didn’t try to move, completely in his thrall. Intoxicating. He put his fingers at the hem of her sweater, pushed it up by running his hands along her sides until the last possible moment before pulling it over her head. He tossed it aside, placed his hands on her shoulders, drew them down to cup her breasts.
“Your skin. I suppose someone could come up with the right color to describe it, but not me. I just know it makes me hungry. Ravenous.” He leaned down to bite gently into her shoulder and she drew in her breath sharply but silently. “And what that skin covers,” he said, giving her breasts a fairly hard squeeze. “That is something to give thanks for.”
He unbuttoned her jeans, slid them down over her butt, giving the globes a long, firm squeeze as well. Urging her back to sit on the bed, he dropped to his knees and worked on her boots.
“So, thank you, Emma. For giving me you.” He pulled her jeans off and looked up in time to see a tear spill from one eye, then the other. It took far less time to shuck his own clothes and slide them into bed, putting a condom on without seeming to rush. But he needed her. Needed her to know how much he needed her. “Because everything about you, everything that you are, is amazing to me.”