Just Like Em

by Marion Ekholm

  “Because I knew you couldn’t handle the problems your father and I faced. I wanted you out of that battleground. You know how horrible a divorce can be. You went through the same thing with Bradley.”

  Em watched her mother’s tapping fingers in silence for a few seconds. “It was nothing like that,” she said in a tight whisper. “I would have stayed with Bradley through hell and back again to keep Sammy safe. Unlike you and Dad, we never argued. Never had so much as a discussion about problems in our marriage. One day he just packed his things and walked out.”

  “Another woman?”

  “I wish. At least then I would have known what to fight.”

  “Never wish that. It’s the worst thing in the world to know you can’t satisfy the man you married, and he has to go and find it somewhere else.”

  Em straightened in her chair. Then her spine gave out, and she slumped on the table; she stretched out her arms to still her mother’s tapping fingers. “I never knew.”

  Doris’s grip tightened when she answered. “I wasn’t about to share that with my teenaged daughter. That’s why I sent you off with Betty and Dave Holden. They volunteered, and you’d always been good friends with Jodie. You talk about worrying. Here I was fighting for my sanity on the home front and worrying about you getting involved with Roger.”

  “Roger was in college. He considered me a pest.”

  “Right. And you started doing things to impress him, things you thought were grown-up. Things I had no control over.”

  Roger had mentioned something along those lines, as well. Em started chuckling again and patted her mother’s hand. “Mom, you probably had good cause to worry. I was experimenting with a lot of things then.”

  “Drugs?”

  Em pulled her hand away. “No. But I did have my first drink. Jodie and I confiscated a six pack of beer from Roger’s stash. We each had three cans. To this day, every time I have a beer I remember that.”

  “And smoking. You started that, too.”

  Em leaned over and placed her head on her outstretched arms. Then she dragged herself back to a sitting position. “Right. Oh, how I wish I could stop. Jodie got me started, but she must have quit somewhere along the way.”

  “You saw her today, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “How is she?”

  “Fine. She’s off to some spa to get pampered for the weekend. Wanted me to join her after the shopping spree, but I can’t afford that, even if the rates are cheaper in the summer.” Em leaned back in her chair. “When am I ever going to stop worrying about money?”

  Doris leaned over and tapped Em’s hand. “When you have some security in your own home. That’s what we have to work toward, save toward.”

  Em scowled. “If only I could save something. I’m going to have to really control myself tomorrow. Don’t want my credit card expenditures going through the roof again. Did you want me to buy anything for you?” When her mother didn’t respond, Em looked up. Doris was gazing out the dining-room window. “Mom?”

  Doris looked back at her daughter and sighed. “What?”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Oh, I’m probably having a senior moment. I’ve been known to have them on occasion.”

  As far as Em was concerned, her mother had had several since they started their conversation. What could be distracting her? It wasn’t like her at all to lose her train of thought.

  “You know, I always believed I’d enjoy retirement. Frankly, I’m getting bored. Once Sammy starts school, I think I’ll look for something to fill my time.” With that, Doris pushed away from the table and crammed her hands in her apron pockets as she headed for her room.

  Where did that come from? Em wondered. She was about to follow her mother and ask what had set her off, when the top letter in the stack of mail caught her attention. It was one of the self-addressed envelopes she’d sent to Bradley.

  Em tore it open. She hoped he had reconsidered and decided to send her a check. Several slips of paper fell to the floor, and she reached down to pick them up.

  “Receipts?” Four of them for books and other items purchased at a college. A note was scribbled on the back of one, “Please send payment. You always took care of them in the past. B.”

  “Over your dead body!” she shouted, and stuffed the papers in her pocket.

  * * *

  “YOU SURE THIS isn’t a bother?” Roger asked after pulling into the apartment complex’s parking lot Saturday morning. Em deposited Sammy’s sleeping bag by the curb. “Samantha can be a real pill.”

  “No. I love shopping. Really. You’re the one with your hands full.” She planned to pick up the girl as soon as everyone left for Prescott.

  “This I can handle.” Roger looked around and a broad smile replaced the worry lines that had recently dominated his face. “It gives me a break from work and all the rest of my headaches.”

  “I never even asked. Do you need food? Anything?”

  “No, we’ve got the preparations down to a science.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a credit card. “Here. Samantha’s allowed to sign on this card. Within limitations, of course. Under the circumstances, I don’t want her to go overboard and leave me with a bill that compares to the national debt.”

  Em glanced down at the girl’s signature and suddenly felt mischievous. She drew the credit card closer to her face, raised an eyebrow and grinned. “We are going to have fun with this.”

  When he attempted to grab the card, she placed it behind her back. Her yelp turned into a giggle when Roger pulled her against his chest, as he fought to wrestle the plastic away. She tried to wiggle free, yet she was enjoying the tussle and the strength in his arms, which bound her to him. Laughter bubbled forth then died in her throat. She stopped moving as Roger’s arms tightened around her, the card forgotten.

  “You’ve got the most infectious giggle, Auntie Em,” he said, close to her mouth, his breath a breeze of fresh mint.

  She inhaled deeply and focused on his eyes. “No one’s called me that in decades.” Wrapped in his arms, she felt so warm, safe and comfortable. She didn’t want him to let her go.

  “Mom!” Sammy said as he butted against her leg. “Come on. We gotta get goin’.”

  Reluctantly, Em moved out of Roger’s hold. “You remember what we talked about?” she said, turning to her son and squatting to his level.

  “Yeah. It’s in my backpack. Big deal.” He looked longingly toward Roger’s white van, where the boys and Harve were waiting.

  She grasped her son’s narrow shoulders. “You can handle it, right, buddy?”

  Sammy responded to the urgency in her voice with a serious scowl. He nodded, and she gave him a quick hug. Before she’d completely straightened, Sammy had bounded off to join his friends.

  Em pulled out a typed paper from her pocket. “He has all the inhalers for his asthma and knows how to use them. Here’s a list of the symptoms and possible problems.” She held the paper out to Roger. “My number’s there and—”

  Roger grasped her hand and slowly pulled out the paper, sending a tingling sensation along her arm. “You are a worrywart, Auntie Em.” He continued to hold her hand while placing the paper in his shirt pocket. “He’ll be fine.”

  They stood there for several moments until the boys started a deafening roar.

  “Let’s get goin’.”

  “Come on, Dad.”

  Harve had moved into the driver’s seat and revved the motor. “Gee whiz. You going to talk all morning?”

  Roger took the passenger seat in the van. He waved. Em stood there, returning the wave until they’d disappeared down the street.

  * * *

  HOURS LATER, EM elbowed through throngs of shoppers at the Arizona Mills mall. Loaded down with shopping bag
s, she longed to rest her aching feet. No chance of that. If she didn’t keep moving, she might lose Samantha and her friend in the crowd.

  Samantha had begged Em for permission to bring her best friend, Amy, along. She had no one to take her shopping, either, plus Samantha couldn’t make a decision without her friend’s approval. Still in the shopping spirit at that point, Em had agreed.

  They had spent a good hour trying on bras to be sure Samantha had the right fit. For some reason, nothing appealed to her. By the time they were ready to leave the third store, Em lost her cool.

  “I thought this was a number one priority.”

  “Not everyone has to wear one. Didn’t people in your day burn them?”

  “That was in my mother’s day,” Em said, surprised that Samantha had picked up that little bit of history. “Besides, they only destroyed one bra, not their whole collection. And you’re getting to where you really need one.”

  It still surprised Em that Samantha had totally skipped the training bra in the smaller sizes. She was nearly as developed as Em, who had contended with a baby and breast milk.

  “Well, I don’t need one.” Samantha started for the exit and had reached the main thoroughfare that connected the stores, before Em grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

  “Yes, you do. You’re starting high school shortly. You can’t disguise this any longer.”

  Samantha’s eyes bulged and her mouth began to twitch. I’ve gone too far, Em thought as tears welled in the girl’s eyes. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to...”

  “Bras can give you breast cancer,” Samantha said through tight lips.

  “What? Where did you...?”

  “Grandma Millie told me. She said that’s how my mother got it.”

  Grandma Millie had to be Karen’s mother, since Em knew Roger’s parents. Why would the woman tell a child that? Em pulled the distressed girl into her arms as the crowds of people elbowed past.

  “I don’t think that’s true. At least, I’ve never heard of it.” Em pushed her away a little so she could see her face. “And did you know men can get it, too, and they don’t even wear bras.”

  “She’s kidding, right?” Amy nudged Samantha with a cross-eyed scowl. “It only happens to women.”

  “I’m not up on every aspect of the disease, but I know I’ve worn one since I was your age and so has my mother. Neither of us has had any problems.” When Samantha still didn’t look convinced, Em continued, “Listen, I’ll go on the internet tonight and see what I can find out about this.”

  “Find out how many men get it,” Amy interjected.

  Why had she even brought men into the picture? Em thought as she moved to get out of the main thoroughfare. “But you have to buy one today. We can toss it if we find they’re the major cause of cancer.” When Samantha still didn’t reply, Em felt exasperated. “Okay?” she asked, her voice rising. “One day can’t possibly cause any harm.”

  Finally, Samantha nodded and slowly turned to reenter the store.

  Em made her buy several. This way, Samantha wouldn’t have to wash one out every night.

  Samantha stood straighter and displayed a confidence that had been lacking before they’d started their shopping spree.

  Now, as Em tried to keep up with the girls, she wished she hadn’t agreed to bring Amy along. The two infused each other with energy, something that had left Em hours ago. By the time she caught up with them, they were examining gold earrings in a jewelry store. “We’re getting our ears pierced,” Samantha informed Em. “They can do it right here.”

  “Oh, no you’re not.” Em placed her packages on the floor next to her feet. “Your father would kill me if I let you.”

  “No, he won’t, honest. We’ve talked about it, and he thinks it’s a great idea.”

  “Well, he hasn’t talked about it with me.”

  Immediately, Samantha pressed her lips together and glared at the ceiling.

  “Well, I’m getting mine done.” Amy motioned to the clerk before Em could respond.

  “You’re not, either,” Em replied, shooing the clerk away. “As long as I’m in charge, you two won’t do anything to your bodies without your parents’ permission.” She picked up her bags. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat.”

  The two girls whispered behind their hands and shot dirty looks at her. Now that they were no longer speaking to her, they lagged behind. Em slowed to a crawl, creating traffic congestion around her. She had no intention of losing them. When they arrived at the food court, the girls bounded in front of her, searching for a place to sit.

  Amy zoomed in on the only free table, beating out several other patrons with trays of food, and deposited her bundles. Despite the glares aimed at them, Em appreciated the chance to rest her feet. She plopped down among their packages.

  Amy nudged Samantha. “Ask her.”

  Samantha swatted her back. “No!”

  “Ask me what?” Both girls stared at Em, but neither one spoke. Finally, she inquired, “What do you want to eat?”

  With a furtive look toward Amy, Samantha leaned across the table. “Are you and Daddy doing it?”

  Em scowled. Teenagers. She didn’t understand half of their vocabulary. “Doing what?”

  “You know.” Samantha cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered, “Sex.”

  The remark was so unexpected Em didn’t respond at first. When she could find her voice, she said, “No, we’re not. Do you want pizza or sandwiches?”

  Samantha sat back. “You’ve been kissing.”

  “No we haven’t.”

  “I saw you on the front porch.”

  Amy moved forward. “We learned in sex education that one thing can lead to the other.” She started a nervous giggle then stopped when Samantha punched her arm.

  Em drew in a deep breath and whooshed it through her lips. So this was what they’d been talking about since leaving the jewelry shop. Her sex life. Now, there was a topic for curing insomnia. However, until she satisfied their curiosity, they’d probably never get to the food. Em dived into the unfamiliar waters with trepidation.

  “You did not see us kissing because we weren’t.” They had been close, inches apart. Would Roger have kissed her if Samantha hadn’t shown up so unexpectedly? “We were talking, nothing more. Besides, intimacy between two people requires love and commitment and should be saved until marriage.”

  The girls looked at each other and said simultaneously, “Yeah, right.”

  What did she expect? Her ideas were considered old-fashioned when she’d voiced them to Bradley some ten years earlier. Why would today’s teenagers support her view? “It’s what I believe and practice.” Em stood. “Now, are you going to tell me what you want or take potluck?”

  “Well, it’s not what my father practices.”

  Em sat down. She never thought of Roger as a person who fooled around. Where would his daughter get that idea?

  Samantha leaned across the table again. She looked to the right and left before whispering, “I’m not stupid.” She grimaced. “No five-month preemie weighs nearly nine pounds.”

  Em expelled all the air in her lungs. “Your parents told you that?”

  Samantha shook her head and stared at the table. “They never talked about it at all. And when I asked, they said I was cute and lovable and everything they ever wanted.”

  “Well, I’m sure that’s true.”

  “No, it’s not.” Samantha’s eyes bulged as she looked up at Em. “I was a mistake. They had to get married.”

  Someone had to provide her with this nonsense. If it wasn’t her parents, then who...? “Did your Grandma Millie tell you this?” Em asked.

  Samantha pressed her lips together and nodded. Even though Em hadn’t met Millie, loathing seeped through her. How could a
woman tell such stories to her own grandchild?

  “I knew both your parents before they married. They were devoted to each other and planned to spend the rest of their lives together.” Em recalled how jealous she had been. Theirs was a relationship she had longed for, if not with Roger then with someone like him. When she met Bradley, she thought she had met that someone. She hadn’t.

  “You coming when you did gave them the chance they wanted to be together sooner than they planned. I’m sure they were always grateful for that.”

  Tears welled in Samantha’s eyes. Em reached over and placed her hand on the girl’s. “Your father is intimate only with someone he loves and cares about, and I only ‘do it’ when I’m married. So, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.” She gave Samantha’s hand a squeeze. “Now, can we eat?”

  The topic didn’t come up again, although it replayed itself in Em’s mind. Roger still loved Karen. It was obvious in the pictures he had throughout the house, in his response to his daughter when she caught them on the porch. Even from the grave, Karen was still a force to reckon with.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “NOW WHAT DO we do with them?” Roger asked Harve. The boys had set up tents at Lynx Lake in Prescott, gone fishing, played tag, eaten and kicked a soccer ball around. Now they were chasing one another in a loud and frenzied game of Cops and Robbers. Any suggestion that they calm down or play something quiet made no impression.

  “I’m all for tying them to a tree.”

  “I’ve got a better idea.” Roger stood and stretched. “Let’s take them for a hike up Thumb Butte.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “Come on. You need the exercise, and it will tire everyone out.”

  “I’m already tired out.” Harve motioned for Roger to retake his seat on the cloth folding chair. “Your sister wants the lowdown on what’s going on with you and the kid’s mother. And you know her—she won’t be satisfied unless I come home with a full report.”