This Close to Okay

by Leesa Cross-Smith

  “Good,” she said, smiling before sniffing, blowing her nose. And after some quiet, “All right. I’m properly worn out, and it’s very late. I’m going to bed. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

  “Yes. I’ll go to bed, too…on the couch. I’ll go to couch,” he said, patting the space next to him.

  “Do you need anything tonight?”

  “No. Thank you.”

  She scooped up Jim, and Pam followed them into the kitchen. “And the dizziness?” she asked, loud enough for him to hear her from the couch.

  “It’s better now.”

  “What about the dimming, detached feeling you had earlier? That’s better, too?”

  “Did I say anything aloud about feeling like that? I honestly can’t remember.”

  “No, but you got the look,” she said, setting the cat on the counter as she filled her water bottle and picking him up again when she was finished. “I can tell when my anxious…students get the look.”

  Family history of mental illness: none.

  Symptoms: panic attack, depersonalization, dissociation, dizziness.

  “I’m feeling better,” he said.

  “Good. Good night, Emmett.”

  “Good night. Good night, kittens.”

  Tallie switched off the lamp, leaving on the hall light like she had the night before, but she left her bedroom door unlocked this time. Simply closed it and put her ear to the wood, listened. Kept it there, mouthed his name. It’s happening. Remember this. This is the wildest thing I’ve ever done, she thought, holding her breath like a prayer.

  She emerged from her bathroom dewy and clean-faced. She googled Emmett Aaron Baker and found nothing.

  Nico texted see you tmrw, mooi, and she considered responding with there is a man i do not know on my couch and you will meet him tmrw, but i don’t know what it means. i am relearning even my own heart, but simply sent him yes pls, mooi before putting her phone in the nightstand drawer.

  She was supine under her cool sheet and weighted blanket, feeling guilty and awful and was she really doing this but. Put her hand between her legs because it was quieter than her vibrator buzz. Tallie let herself go and thought about the unlocked door separating her from Emmett out there on her couch. Thought about him finding her in that position, her hand beneath the blanket moving around like a busy mouse. She imagined his strong tiger body standing by the bed, watching her close her eyes and turn her head to bite the pillow. Imagined Joel, jealous, watching her. Nico, too. She thought about the sext Nico had sent her a month ago: i have a lesson this afternoon, but tonight…i want to make you come. He’d done exactly that, more than once. She thought about how good Nico made her feel and how good Emmett could make her feel if she’d ask him, if she’d let him.

  Tallie was a tightly tied knot that needed to come undone. She imagined all he wasn’t telling her—his danger and darkness and secrets and the what-ifs—whipping like wind, snapping like thunder. An unstoppable storm. Her desire and his force and the mystery wrapping around it, revving up and swirling, knock-knock-knocking harderharderharder against her bedroom door until that gasping mouth of the world tugged loose and split wide open. Swallowed her up.

  PART THREE

  Saturday

  EMMETT

  Emmett was on the couch, curled like a comma, sleeping. He’d thought about Tallie behind her locked bedroom door as he drifted off, hoping she’d appear to him in a dreamy, sugar-spun haze where he was a different man with a different life. No before, no after. But instead, he dreamed the power went out again. He’d had his eyes on Christine and Brenna, their faces eclipsed, then illuminated by glows of sunlight and moonlight, swapped out for the lamp in Tallie’s living room. The dream clicked to an unending cone of darkness. Christine and Brenna were gone, wisped into black. Emmett screamed for them at first, then forgot their names. Couldn’t scream them anymore. He said, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Chanted it, rocking himself in a cold, concrete corner. Alone. The only man in the world, left behind, pulling at his hair. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

  “I’m so—” He woke himself up saying it in the quiet of Tallie’s house. Frenetic flashes of black, white, and red with his eyes closed. Eyes open and crying, he saw Tallie standing over him with her hands held out, like she was preparing to catch him if he jumped into her arms. Once she saw he was awake, she turned on the lamp. She sat by his head and touched it, the tuft of hair at his temple. She put her hand on his, asked if he was okay.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.

  “That’s what you kept saying over and over…‘I’m sorry’ pretty loud, not yelling…but it woke me up. Is this a recurring dream? Do you remember what was happening? Do you want a glass of water?” Tallie said.

  Emmett looked at the clock: 4:13. The cats were now on the couch next to them, purring and rubbing their heads against Emmett, begging to be petted. He sat up, obliged. Tallie didn’t wait for his water answer. She went into the kitchen, got a glass for him. He took it, still trying to surface from the deep sleep he’d been swimming in.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again after he’d drunk the water, set the glass on the table.

  “You don’t have to apologize. I want to help you. Do you need anything?” She sat beside him, offered him her hand. Palm up, she set it on his thigh.

  (Tallie looks concerned. She has her thumbs through the thumbholes of her long-sleeved shirt. Her big brown eyes are now behind a pair of lavender crystal cat’s-eye glasses.)

  “It was about my wife.”

  “I’m so sorry, Emmett.”

  He’d been relieved when he slept well the previous night. No nightmares, no screaming. His brain had been far too exhausted. He was embarrassed he’d had a nightmare in Tallie’s house, somehow cursing their cozy bubble and ruining the hygge she’d been talking about. He was sure nightmares weren’t allowed to be a part of hygge, but he couldn’t stop them. No matter what he did or where he went, his blood and bones remembered. All he could offer up was a pitiful I’m sorry, whether it was whispered or hollered or whether he was in his own bed or on Tallie’s couch. Suicide wasn’t hygge, either, and if Tallie weren’t there next to him, that was the only thing that would’ve been on his mind, no question.

  But she was there. And she kept her hand on his thigh, and Emmett put his hand in hers.

  (The room smells faintly like pumpkins and sugar. The couch is soft, so soft, almost painfully soft, like moss. Tallie’s hand is warm, and she is breathing slowly, deliberately. The trees tattoo the roof with rainwater.)

  * * *

  Emmett got up early, before Tallie. He went to the bathroom, changed into his jeans and flannel shirt, brushed his teeth as quietly as he could. He filled a bottle from Tallie’s cabinet with tap water and found his way out to her garage. He stood with his back to the wall, eyes closed, listening only to his breathing before lifting the ladder. Finding and flicking the switch to open the garage door.

  The clouds had reluctantly revealed a gray-white hint of sunlight, a break in the rain again. Emmett clapped the ladder against the house and began scooping out the wet leaves from Tallie’s gutters. He scooped and slapped them down onto her grass and bushes. Scoop and slap, scoop and slap. He got so in the zone that he was genuinely startled when he heard a woman’s voice below him, saying hello.

  “I’m Tallie’s mom, Judith,” the woman said, smiled.

  Emmett looked down at her, at the pumpkin and bucket of wine-dark chrysanthemums in her arms.

  “Hi,” he said, before politely asking her how she was. She stood at the bottom of the ladder, told him she was fine.

  “Tallie’s so smart to get you up there cleaning out those gutters. Feels like the rain will never end, although I guess technically it did, for a little bit. It’s supposed to start up again this afternoon, I heard. Y’know her husband used to clean the gutters out, but now they’re divorced. Her ex-husband,” Judith spilled, her brain-to-mout
h gutters clearly cleaned out.

  Emmett came down the ladder.

  “She may still be sleeping, Miss Judith,” he said with his feet on the ground. “Can I get those for you?” He took the bucket of flowers, walked them up the steps to the porch, and put them there. Judith followed him with the pumpkin, which he also took from her and put on the steps with the other ones.

  “Thank you so much. What’s your name?”

  “My name’s Emmett,” he said, drying his hand on his jeans before holding it out for her. Judith took it and shook.

  “Nice to meet you, Emmett.”

  He told her the front door was unlocked before he went to the ladder, moved it, climbed up, continued the wet scoop-and-slap. In his periphery, Judith took a long look at him before disappearing inside.

  * * *

  When Emmett finished cleaning out the gutters and bagging the leaves, he washed his hands in the sink of Tallie’s laundry room. When he emerged in the hallway, Tallie was standing by the couch, folding her knitted blankets. Judith’s voice lifted up from the kitchen. Emmett wasn’t sure how Tallie wanted to play this. He was fine with Judith thinking he was a random handyman, stopping by on Halloween morning to clean out Tallie’s gutters. He could walk in there, let Tallie pretend to pay him, leave, go up the road, find a distraction until Judith left. Then he remembered that he’d left the couch half looking like a bed, left the pillow there on the edge, the blankets strewn and looping like soft cursive. And there was no work truck in the driveway he could claim was his, but Tallie could take care of it, tell her mom whatever she wanted.

  “Thanks for cleaning out the gutters, Emmett,” Tallie said with a completely normal amount of earnestness that gave him no clue what she was truly thinking.

  “My pleasure. No problem.”

  “You’ve met my mama,” Tallie said as Judith stepped into the living room with a mug of coffee, both cats trailing behind her.

  “You look so familiar to me, Emmett. Are you from Louisville?” Judith asked.

  “No, ma’am. I’m from Clementine.”

  “Clementine. Clementine? That’s—” Judith sat on the couch, tucked her feet beneath her.

  “Southeastern Kentucky,” Emmett finished, nodded.

  “Emmett, do you want a cup of coffee?” Tallie asked.

  “Uh…yes. Yes, please,” he said as Tallie headed to the kitchen. He followed her, passing Judith flipping through a magazine, drinking her coffee next to the cats. She smiled up at him.

  Tallie mouthed good morning to Emmett once they were alone in the kitchen. He touched her shoulder, leaned down to whisper in her ear. Her hair smelled like his: orange blossom and neroli, a lemon tree by the ocean.

  “Do you want me to act like I’m only here to clean out your gutters?”

  Tallie put surprise on her face, shook her head.

  “She’ll assume you’re some secret new boyfriend I haven’t told her about. It’s kind of exciting,” she whispered, smiling and lifting her shoulders in a precious, childlike way. She poured his coffee, handed him the mug.

  “Your secret new boyfriend who sleeps on the couch?”

  “I know it’s weird, but trust me…this is how she works.”

  “So it’s okay if I make breakfast? Boyfriends make breakfast,” he said, still whispering.

  “Yes, they do,” Tallie said.

  “Apologies again…about last night.”

  “No need. You’re feeling okay this morning?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m okay,” he said again.

  Emmett stepped into the kitchen doorway and asked Judith how she liked her eggs.

  * * *

  Tallie and Judith were on the couch, and Emmett was in the kitchen, finishing up breakfast. In addition to the eggs, he fried bacon, put orange slices in a bowl, made eight biscuits from scratch.

  “Wow, you’re kidding me. Look at this,” Judith said as she sat at the table. Emmett had plated their food, placed Judith’s over-easy eggs and everything else in front of the chair. He’d put Tallie’s scrambled eggs and the rest of her breakfast next to it and took a seat across from them, ready to follow Tallie’s lead about who he was and what he was doing there.

  “Emmett is a stunning cook. Seriously. He made steaks last night, and it was the most delicious dinner I’ve ever eaten in my life. I’m still upset about it,” Tallie said.

  “Lovely! What brings you to Louisville?” Judith asked.

  “Tallie Clark,” Emmett said, letting his lips curl. He knew Tallie would appreciate it.

  “My, how sweet is that?” was Judith’s response.

  Tallie beamed, took bites of her food.

  “She’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. And I mean it,” he said.

  “She’s a good girl. I’m very proud of her,” Judith said.

  “I can only imagine,” Emmett agreed.

  “How long have you two been dating?”

  “Mama…I’ll tell you everything later. Let’s enjoy breakfast,” Tallie said.

  “Well, you’re young and handsome…just what Tallie needs. Most women could use one of you around!” Judith said, laughing and wagging a finger at him.

  Emmett smiled and said thank you.

  “Mama, stop.”

  “Oh, hush,” Judith said.

  (Judith is wearing a striped turtleneck and small gold hoop earrings. A pearl ring on her right middle finger. Her hair is gray, pulled into a low bun. Judith and Tallie have the same nose, the same mouth. Judith touches Tallie a lot, pets her like a tender baby animal—her hair, her arm, her cheek.)

  Judith talked and talked. She told Emmett how she’d quit smoking and felt like she’d lost part of her personality. She was so addicted to nicotine gum that she wondered if she should start smoking again. She told stories about Tallie as a little girl, how naturally smart, kind, and curious she was, how she devoured books. Grounding her from reading was the only way Judith could punish her. She thought Tallie would be a writer or a librarian. Judith told Emmett when Tallie was little, she’d say “Goodbye! I’m going to the moon!” before she walked outside at night.

  She bragged on Tallie’s brother, Lionel, how he’d made an obscene amount of money working in finance, how she didn’t really understand the way most of it went down, but he played with other people’s money and somehow that ended up making him a lot of money, too. Lionel traveled back and forth between Louisville and New York City, and even though Lionel and his wife had a nanny, sometimes Judith stepped in to look after her grandson, River. And River continued to be such a blessing to their family, especially after all those years of Tallie unsuccessfully trying to get pregnant.

  Emmett watched Tallie’s face melt like ice cream.

  “She’s hands-down one of the strongest people I know,” Emmett said, looking into Tallie’s eyes.

  “Yes, she is.” Judith nodded in agreement and finished her biscuit. “And she knows how to make everyone feel real special. She’s always been like that.”

  “That’s the truest thing I’ve heard all day. And…yeah, we’re excited about the big bash tonight,” Emmett said. He watched Tallie lower her eyes in relief at the subject change.

  “Tallie told you I only go every other year?” Judith asked him.

  “No, I didn’t know that,” he said.

  Judith continued talking. Explained that she and Tallie’s dad, Gus, alternated years so Lionel wouldn’t have to worry about them arguing. She didn’t get along with Gus or Tallie’s stepmother. She’d recently broken up with a man she’d dated for three years. Tallie chimed in to say she’d gotten to know and love him, missed him already. Judith told a couple of stories about Tallie not liking her boyfriends in the past, especially when they turned out to be assholes. She said Tallie had a strong God-given radar for people and energies.

  They finished their breakfast while she talked, Tallie jumping in only to keep Judith from going too into detail about family
and marriage drama. And Tallie had stopped Judith completely when she began talking about how Joel had them all fooled.

  “Let’s talk about something else, Mama,” she’d said.

  “Fine. Well, that’s a long way of saying I won’t be at my own son’s Halloween party tonight. I’m playing bunco with my knitting girlfriends instead,” Judith finished.

  “Tallie told me she made those blankets on the couch. I’m sure she learned from the best,” Emmett said.

  Judith smiled before telling him he was too kind.

  * * *

  Tallie’s mother stayed for an hour after breakfast before saying she’d be moving along.

  “You really do look so familiar to me. I can’t get over it. Maybe you remind me of an old movie star. Maybe we met in another life?” she asked, noisily popping a rectangle pillow of nicotine gum from its foil.

  “Maybe we did,” Emmett replied.

  Tallie thanked her for the mums and the pumpkin. Judith told them to have a great time at the Halloween party. Tallie said she’d call her tomorrow and let her know how it went. And before she left, Judith hugged Tallie, and she hugged Emmett, too. Tightly, as if he were her own. He returned it.

  “That’s my mama,” Tallie said, curtsying in front of him.

  “It was nice to meet her. I didn’t know how much you wanted her knowing about me.”

  “You were perfect. And by lunchtime everyone in my family and everyone in her neighborhood will know your name, what you look like, where you’re from, and that you spent the night here last night.”

  “And that doesn’t…freak you out at all?” he asked.

  “For me to be on the side of her good, positive gossip for once? Not really,” Tallie said.

  Emmett smiled, and not one time when Judith was there did he think about dying. The bridge had gifted him the supernatural ability to recognize the smallest moments of light, effervescent with relief. Pretending to be the man Tallie wanted him to be smoothed his mind into a gleaming blank. He could pretend to be someone else who was pretending to be someone else. The cracked husk of his heart inside another and another, ad infinitum. Evidence of how he’d closed himself off out of necessity. Grief. Guilt. And fear.