Getting by (A Knight's Tale)

by Claudia Y. Burgoa

  “They are so pretty,” Tina said, and interrupted my plans for world domination, or plans to steal my pieces back. If I could contact my sidekick, things would get done. However I dismissed that thought and gave her a polite smile. “I had to keep them.” Then, for the twentieth time she looked me up and down. “You grew up to be a beautiful woman. I bet Anna would be proud of you.”

  I doubted Mom would be proud of me. Mom loved the girl that created beautiful pieces of art with her hands. Before my parents fucked up my life, and someone else theirs, I was living the dream. The perfect life, which included a spot in the Paris-Sorbonne University—tuition paid by the school. Dad didn’t want to let me go, but I didn’t care, because I had enough money saved to pay for the first year of expenses. Well, that was until they drained my account. Furiously I wiped the tears with the back of my hand; Tina’s pity glare made me aware of them. I hated being weak. This feeling had haunted me for the last few days. Not only that, I craved to touch a sketch book, clay, pencils and other precious utensils.

  Must fly out of California.

  “Now, Emma, tell me about your job.” She patted my back. “Gabriela told me you got a promotion.”

  There was one a couple of years ago, after graduating, and another one last September, when I finished my master’s degree online. But who’s counting? Me, because thanks to the promotion, I’d been traveling outside the country. During the summer, between my first and second year of college, I landed an internship in New York with a solid advertising company. No, one of the best advertising companies in the world. Once summer was over, Knight & White, or as everyone knew it—K&W, snatched me from the competition by offering me a part-time remote position. Sam White, one of the founders and partners, hired me personally.

  I read their five year contract with a sign in bonus to die for and the possibility of growing as far as I wanted. They let me work from school while classes were going, but I needed to report to them the times I was free. They paid for a small furnished studio and any post-grad education I chose to take. The only catch was I’d return my bonus if I quit before the five years, and couldn’t work with anyone until the five years had run their course. As promised, they promoted me a couple of times. Now I had a window office with a shiny plaque that said ‘Emma L. Anderson, Creative Director’; an impressive achievement at my age of twenty three. I stayed as late as midnight or worked from home until one or two in the morning. We had offices in London and Japan, so you can’t blame a girl for keeping up with the other branches. The vice-president spot looked closer every day.

  “Paint me a pretty picture,” Tina said, pointing at one of the few empty spaces in her wall.

  “I don’t, I can’t,” I said defeated, as I slumped. The height my wedges gave me was gone and I became an insignificant insect. My guard was down, naked, vulnerable for everyone to see. “Since Mom, I–I can’t. If you’ll excuse me, I’m heading to Gaby’s room. I need to take and make a few calls.” Rude, but I needed to cut off her before she broke me in front of a bunch of strangers. She seemed to have an agenda programmed for me, where she’d talk about my parents until I boarded the plane.

  Her gaze began to change from friendly to something else, until Rachel—the mother of the groom, or aunt—came to ask a few questions about the food. She was a proper woman, with a warm sincere smile. She was about my height, sandy hair and amber eyes that looked familiar, but I couldn’t place the face. My new best friend introduced herself as ‘Rachel, the groom’s mother’ and snatched Tina from me. I wanted to kiss the ground she walked on, after she did that, since she stopped Tina from releasing her wrath against me for not indulging her dramatic spot. While heading to the upstairs room, I noticed only a few changes, flat screen televisions in every room and more pictures of the family. Gaby’s canopy bed was intact, along with the fairy decorations we had put up, back when she was ten. I never knew why she didn’t change them during our teenage years.

  Finally, I sat on the bed and began to work on the baby line Liam had sent. I suggested new names and drew a few logos. My fingers loosened up at the touch of the pencil, easily, like riding a bike. Carried away, I produced seven different ideas and took a picture, but my phone signal wasn’t strong enough for my message to be sent inside the house. I left my tote bag, slid the paper inside my jeans back pocket and headed downstairs to join the party. Children and adults filled the entire downstairs area, inside and out.

  Avoid eye contact, and hide behind that curtain of hair and don’t talk, my internal manual on how to survive the semi high school reunion, reminded me.

  “Hey, hot stuff.” A gruff voice jolted my trip to the old doll house. I turned to encounter a not so tall, bold Tom, sporting a beer belly and in need of a new pair of jeans his size that would fit him better. “Shit, no way. Is that you, Emma? Fuck, the years have been good to you. I can use a quick one with a piece like you.”

  “And you are?” I chose ‘amnesia for four hundred, Alex’ during the encounter; even put the sentence in the form of a question all in hopes that he’d go away. It was better than slapping him on the face with a knife—which I didn’t have.

  “Tom, remember me?” Indifferent, I crossed my arms and shook my head. He gave me a look of “how dare you,” but dancing his eyes and giving me what I think was his interpretation of a charming smile, he continued talking. “We dated back in high school.”

  “No, sorry.” I began to search for an exit but everything was blocked. For one second I wished I had Jake next to me to take this guy out of my sight. I took a deep breath and sent Jake back to where he belonged—next to my parents. Not that I wished him dead, but I didn’t need him or the memories of us around. Bringing him back would never help me move on and find a guy that might accept me and who I could be with for the rest of my life. Like Grampy suggested. “But nice to see you, I guess.”

  Bullet dodged, I finished my journey to the old house, which no longer had a door and begged for mercy to be taken down or repaired. My pretty sign of welcome and the flowers I painted around it were all washed away. I took a peek into my old house; no tree house—who tore it down? No, wait, the entire tree was gone from my house. The perfectly manicured grass housed a tiny plastic playground and a few dog toys. Whoever lived there had no respect for Mom’s award winning garden, because it no longer existed.

  A pang of loneliness hit me. These were the moments I wished life had a different outcome. In a perfect world, Mom would’ve been helping Tina in the kitchen, and Dad would be flipping hamburgers with John. Chloe might come from New York—or not. And I’d be arriving from France, with my boyfriend who I hoped was close to proposing because we loved each other very much. We met in Europe—love at first sight. It was him, my personal hero and stalker. Serendipity sent him my way, forever. But when I opened my eyes, I was standing alone looking at a stranger’s backyard—Mom and Dad weren’t there.

  Hello, real world, you suck!

  Chapter 9

  Jake

  “NO, NO. I’LL smile. See, pearly white smile, no sad face.” I heard the pretty girl talking to Gaby. Who was I kidding, I had stalked her since the moment she arrived and Mrs. Clement yelled to John and Gavin that little Emma was home.

  Mitchel gave me a look, while Liam walked inside the house to “check up on things,” as he said. The confirmation of what we already knew, their Emma was the same as my Emma. From that point on, I observed far enough away to avoid contact, but close enough to…be called a stalker. Mrs. Clement bombarded her with overwhelming subjects, and her stiffened body and lost eyes begged for a hug, a hero to rescue her, or at least some mercy from whatever torture she was going through. Emma met Mom, and the thankful smile she gave her brought a smile to my own face; the meddler had done something worthy of it. My girl didn’t award those loosely. Then Emma headed upstairs, where she spent about an hour locked in one of the rooms.

  Once she descended and came to the backyard, the internal fight she had going on became a war with
lots of casualties. Not only her body but her face was begging for sympathy and understanding. She wanted to run away and never look back—I saw that face three months ago. The difference with today was that she stayed and faced her problems. Emma’s tears made an appearance twice in one day; a miracle for the insensitive girl. Rewind…that sounded wrong. She was sensitive, but chose to hide any kind of feelings from the world—including me; no, especially me.

  “Your mom went a little overboard with her memory lane trip, but I’m good.” Emma sobered up and straightened up her body. “I swear it was the first time I’ve cried since forever. Maid of honor, perfect, just for you. No need to draw attention, Gabriela.”

  “Okay.” Gaby twisted her mouth and narrowed her eyes. “Let’s go with Cade, you need to meet his cousins and brothers.” I caught a devilish smirk as she paused. “One of them is the best man.”

  “Don’t you start, Gabriela.”

  Careful, she’s going to bite your head off.

  Emma came to a halt and placed her fists on her waist. I seconded the motion. My girl wouldn’t be sleeping with Mitch–over my dead body. Correction, I’d kill him if he dared to look at her, other than like a brother. Which, of course he’d never be. We were over, and we were never serious. “You promised, no pimping this week. I’m so not sleeping with the best man, or groomsmen or anyone. Capisce?” Wise last words. I convoked to a standing ovation, but nobody joined me.

  “Loosen up, you need to get laid.”

  I’ll help, I wanted to say, but kept my mouth shut. Emma was about to claw someone and I didn’t want to volunteer for the position. Yet, I also noticed the shift in her body, it slumped even more, her eyes turned greener and her gaze lower.

  Do you miss me, baby? I doubt it; you’re the one who called it off. She had no right to be sad, I wanted to tell her. She looked beautiful; though, I didn’t care much for her flat hair. I liked it when she wore it wavy and wild and showing her reddish streaks.

  “I got laid,” Emma defended herself from Gaby. “Last time was about three months ago.” The period she mentioned gave me some macho-power-trip that made me want to bump my chest with my fists, because she was mine. “I’m not lying.”

  I can testify. Stopping my stalkerish ways, I noticed that Cade watched the exchange between the friends, while Liam and Mitch observed me. Was my face showing the multiple emotions I felt on the inside? Pain, anger, lust, but the most was the need to stop Gaby’s torture. Under that armor, Emma was fragile.

  “Yeah, your imaginary friend, silly me. How can I forget? Emma, you need someone real.” My pretty girl frowned at her, because of course I was real, and every time we were together it was an earth-shattering experience. Though the only person who knew we had a thing was Liam, and Emma was happy to leave it that way. Light and uncomplicated.

  “Imaginary boy appeared when I needed him, and guess what Gabs, he didn’t hurt me. No complications, just clean and neat.” I heard Mitch snorting, and Liam shook his head. “Just like everything in my life. Dad’s motto of self-reliance. If I was real to him, he wouldn’t give a shit about someone like me.”

  I didn’t care for those words. Emma was real. Explosive, witty, loyal, reliable to a fault, lovely, tender, and I gave more than a shit. Where did that come from? My wide eyes matched Mitch’s, and I chose to stop doing a play by play on her conversation, trying to fit myself into it and mostly overthinking.

  “The only real person allowed in my world is you, though you’re on probation for trying to pimp me—again. You might get your visa revoked.”

  Gaby puffed with resignation at the tough crazy cookie she dealt with. Tell me about it. Cade and Gavin gave us the heads up; we didn’t want to deal with psycho. They insisted we take her off the menu. Gavin said three scary words, Chloe’s little sister, which gave us a huge rash. Gavin’s psycho-ex made his life hell. My brothers and I had a front row seat, and we had lived the ordeal on a daily basis. Mitch, Liam and I didn’t argue with their logic.

  I heard the story of the last guy Gaby tried to hook her up with—it ended with an icepack on his crotch. Cade’s friend swore she had a loose screw, because the only thing he had said was ‘yumm, I could eat you’. The tacky line had a ring to it when you’re seventeen and not in control of your mouth, or hormones. But past your twentieth birthday, it’s unacceptable. He’s lucky, if I had heard him say the line to her, he’d need a dick transplant.

  “Emma, meet Mitch, Jake and Liam. They’re Cade’s cousins, more like brothers.” Gaby pointed at each of us. Emma had magical eyes; they changed color with her mood, and when she realized I was in front of her, they changed from brownish to green—pain, anger? She closed them to gather her wits back and showed us a light brown color again. Though, I detected the green wanted to overpower it. “Guys, this is the famous Emma Anderson, the maid of honor.” What happened to friend or best friend? I wanted to ask, but let it go.

  “Pleasure to finally meet you,” Mitch said, looking from Emma to me and shaking her hand. “I feel like we know each other pretty well.” She reclaimed her hand and put both of them behind her back. A strange move I didn’t understand.

  The girl didn’t know Mitch, my twin, only Liam. Knowing the girl, there were a few possibilities on how she’d react. Ignore us and pretend we never met. Not likely, since her boss was in front of her. Smile and walk away, a thing she liked to do when the social situation called for it. Liam grew accustomed to the woman. Ignore me personally and pretend for a minute I had invisible powers—most likely.

  “Liam,” she sighed, scratched the tip of her nose and crinkled it. “And here I thought you’d give me the full seven days off.” That un-humorous laugh I had learned to hate made an appearance. She needed me, my body sensed it. The entire situation was hard for her to handle.

  “Wait,” Gaby said. “You two know each other?” She looked at Emma, then at Liam, who nodded. “Weird.”

  “He’s my boss,” Emma responded, and then turned her attention to Liam. She wanted something. “I was going to call you,” she said to my brother.

  “I spotted you yesterday, after you checked in.” He acted casual. “What are the odds? I didn’t know you’d be coming or I would’ve offered you a ride from New York.”

  Emma shook her head, and I noticed she gazed at me and Mitch once before taking her attention back to Liam. “I read your email.” She ignored the ride comment, aware she’d ride with me—and my family—on one of our private jets. Also, her insistence on Liam’s email proved me right, the woman married her job long ago. This explained why she hadn’t avoided us or walked out. I chuckled and glanced at Liam—I had told him she’d respond before the rest.

  Not acknowledging me, but flaring her nose, she continued selling her abilities to Liam. “Earthybabies isn’t a good name. Can we change it? Eco-baby sounds catchier, Natural Beginnings, Nature-starts, Nate’s.” She pulled a paper out of her back pocket and tried to hand it over to Liam. Instead, I grabbed it from her tight grip. Our fingers slightly touched sending the usual electric current through my entire body.

  Emma’s nostrils flared—was she going to breathe fire? I ignored the glare she un-tenderly gifted me, and risking my life I pulled it harder from her.

  “Bunnies are overused.” She used the professional voice that informed me she was pissed at someone—today it was me—or the situation. I thought both would apply, and I hated her attitude. “Lion cub or a puppy with a couple of simple flowers would be perfect, adding a couple of grass patches.”

  “Why not Earthybabies?” A valid question, since it took me a long time to come up with the name, why would she change it? I examined the logos and names. She crossed her arms with a defying stare. Emma hated to be questioned when things were obvious. Not that they were to me.

  I gave in before we began to fight over something as simple as a name. Mostly because I thought she was right. “Nate’s, I like it. Simple and natural. Lion or puppy, do you have any other animal in mind? How about a giraf
fe?”

  Her narrow glare wasn’t friendly, but I ignored it. I took this at face value, an unplanned business meeting. “Too many companies use giraffes, bunnies and puppies,” she said thickly. “The latter always sells. You can adopt it too, if you want to go that route.” Emma uncrossed her arms and her body loosened up. “Lions would bring in the whole mom lioness—protecting, cuddly and lovable—effect. You buy them because you want to protect your baby by going back to nature.”

  In a matter of minutes she convinced me to rename my line and use K&W to create the image. She asked questions about my target audience, prices, distributors and other information I didn’t have on top of my head. Liam stayed with us while we spoke to add some suggestions. The organic baby line was my idea, and the business became a family thing.

  “It’s a brilliant idea.” She approved the new venture. “Organic baby products, makes me want to have—” She gazed at the floor after she caught herself getting ready to blurt out something we shouldn’t know. A new business…a baby? I didn’t know how I felt about the second one.

  After a deep breath, she composed her entire body, and whatever she was hiding had been stored inside that crowded mind of hers. “Tonight I can digitize the concept. I left my mobile office at the hotel.” Of course she brought her damn mobile office along. One week without work would kill her, not the flu, or the latest pandemic. “For sure, you can send it to the client first thing tomorrow.” Hopeful, she smiled at Liam and finally asked the question that would seal the deal. “Do I get the account?”

  “I don’t know,” Liam answered, closed his eyes and shook his head. “Do you want it?” He opened them and lifted an eyebrow looking directly at me. I knew he was asking my input. Should I give it to her? What the hell, she’s great. I nodded. “Because that’s Jake’s new company, sweetheart. You two work it out and let me know.”

  Like a good game of chess, she took her time deciding. I knew the girl’s moods, body language and thoughts, better than my own. And now I also had new facts about her. She grew up in San Francisco, California, next door to Gaby, my soon to be cousin-sister in-law. Her parents died and she moved to whatever land, where no one could cohabitate with her, from where I got deported three months ago.