“Oh, Em.” Instinct made me rest her head on my chest and place my chin over her head, wrapping her into a tight sheath where no one would hurt her. The roses and lavender scent reminded me of us, and the moments we shared like this. She mattered to me, more than I thought before.
“Jake.” Dad interrupted our moment, and Emma released my waist. I didn’t let her go, keeping one arm around her waist. “The table is ready.” His poker face didn’t give out much, but after our previous encounter, I knew an introduction was in order.
“Dad,” I said, and he glared, waiting for me to speak, “meet Emma Lilian Anderson. Emma, I want you to meet my Dad, Edward Knight. Em’s the girl I’ve been seeing for the past two years, Dad.”
“Two years?” Dad’s unreadable face made me feel uneasy, but Emma’s frozen face sent me on a full blown panic attack. Shit, I forgot we weren’t a couple or a fling anymore, the past ten minutes talking like we did before, took me back to those happy times. Dad embraced her with a hug, though my arm held her waist tightly. She smiled politely. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Emma. I’m looking forward to getting to know you, sweetheart. Your mom?”
“Rather keep it low, Dad.” He nodded, and Emma got very confused. I kissed her temple to calm her. “Smile, Mom might grill you if you look upset. She’s a professional meddler, babe. I’ll join in a second. I need to make a few calls.”
Chapter 18
Emma
“YOU O.K.?” I shook my head, the weight of the world prevented me from lifting my feet, making my walk slower than a turtle. Jake chose a Japanese restaurant, located inside a Japanese hotel. Was this Japanese week? Jay pulled me apart while everyone waited to be seated. “Talk, is it Mom?”
“She’s a meddler, that one. I can see the resemblance between the two of you.” I had wished the woman would be horrible and I’d hate her guts. But I couldn’t. Her inquisitive style agreed with her. Meddler, yet she knew when to stop.
“My children need a serious girl.” She tricked me with that one, I nodded in agreement. Her smirk grew and continued selling me the guys. “They are strong, good looking and successful.” I wanted to add a few more characteristics of Jake she had skipped, when it dawned on me what the woman was doing and I froze. “Like, for example, Jake—I’m intruding too much, aren’t I?” I nodded giving her a weak smile.
I smiled at the memory of how she almost pimped them—him—to me.
“But she knows when to back up, so Brownie points for her.” I took a deep breath. “This whole wedding is the worst decision I’ve made in the last twenty three years. Scenario, ready? Door number one: filled with former high school fake-friends who have the happy life, and pity you. I hate pity. Door number two: with best friend pimping me with everyone on her invite list, including girls; in case I’m hiding in the closet—her words.” Jake gave me a light smile, because he was my closet secret.
For some reason unknown to mankind and scientists around the world, I continued baring my soul to Jake. His old tactics of holding my hands, stroking the inside of my wrists while I talked and finally hugging me tightly gave him a lot more information than I wanted to release. What was with me this week? Yesterday was a drunken fluke, but today I had no real motive for babbling things I would never tell anyone—least of all him.
“If I had been home—”
“You wouldn’t be here, Emma.” He didn’t let me finish my sentence. Fear, desperation and pain in his eyes dragged my attention from the past to his serious gaze. I hugged him for dear life while I continued talking.
“I don’t know the case. The gunman shot the two people in the house. I bet he’d have shot anyone inside. You feel guilty because they left you behind, baby, but it wasn’t your fault. I’ve been there, and understand you perfectly.” Does he? How? His conversation confused me, but my blues dragged me to places that forbade me to talk. His feelings, my feelings… I’d end the week with more pain than I had come in with.
“Can I take a look at their file, snoop and get some information that might help us get closure?” I second guessed myself because the endearing term us sounded wrong for what we once were. However, my head gave him a slight nod, there wasn’t much to lose. He knew everything. I flinched, afraid I’d repulse him for being a conniving bitch.
He didn’t say anything further about my parents, but Jake, introducing me to his Dad as if I was his girlfriend, shook my entire existence.
No, Mr. Knight giving me what felt like a welcome to the family speech agitated me.
“Dad,” Jake said, and didn’t let me go, holding me by the waist, “meet Emma Lilian Anderson. Emma, I want you to meet my Dad, Edward Knight. Em’s the girl I’ve been seeing for the past two years, Dad.”
“Two years?” Swallow me whole, please? But instead, the older man pulled me into a fraternal hug. As if he had just met his new daughter in-law. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Emma.” Finally? I wanted to run away because this whole scene felt nice and homey, just like the relationship I was developing with Rachel. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you, sweetheart.”
They exchanged more words; syllables, consonants were said. None of them were assimilated by my brain. Fogged and panicked, I wanted to flee the restaurant and hide until—I didn’t even know when. “Smile, Mom might grill you,” were the words that pulled me out of my trance and helped me compose myself. Mr. Knight linked our arms and walked me to the table. He pulled out my chair before sitting down himself. Like at breakfast, they sat me next to the empty place where Jacob would be joining us. Finally? Did he tell them?
“Are you ready to order?”
The waiter came to the table, everyone was ready but Jake, who hadn’t joined us yet. Instead of asking to come back in a few minutes, I ordered for him the Japanese beer he liked, a green salad and our regular order of sushi to share.
“I almost forgot,” I said, after everyone else ordered. “Can you bring us edamame, please? A small order. We like to have something to munch on while waiting.”
Mitch cleared his throat, Liam looked at Rachel and she lowered her gaze while biting her lower lip. What did I say wrong?
Ed, as he asked me to call him—it was better than call me Dad, which would’ve made me run away to Timbuktu—gave an update to Rachel about the sale of their jets. They discussed the possibility of waiting for the right new owner, or convincing Jake to keep them for trips within the US. Jake’s new planes were in production and wouldn’t be ready for another six months. There wasn’t any rush, and if needed, they’d be renting more hangar space.
“Sorry about that.” Jake sat down. “You already ordered?” He faced me and I nodded.”
“Yeah, the usual.” Mitch emphasized the last word and Jake’s eyes went right to his Mom’s. I caught then what I did earlier. Shoot me now? Rachel Knight didn’t know, and this was a thousand times more awkward than I originally pictured it.
“It’s almost two.” Ed’s voice pulled us from the awkward moment.
I waited for someone to bring up the Jake and I subject, but no one did. Ed, noticing the time, made a switch for a more comfortable conversation.
“We need to be at the Clement’s at six.” Liam and Mitch grumbled in unison as Ed continued. “Let’s move wine country to tomorrow, but you’re still driving Liam. No card game or bet will get you out of it.”
Jake and his brothers bet about everything they could; the forecast, sports and politics among other things. Also, they played multiple games—dominoes and cards topped the list. The loser owed a favor. Money never made it to the table. Among the valuable currency, there were chores, parent’s duties and other silly things. One time, Jay won a project for me. Liam never allowed such currency on the table after Sam threw a hissy fit. According to Jake, Mitch marked cards more often than not. Jake and Liam—mostly Liam—carried one or two decks of new cards to avoid fights.
Lunch ended up a pleasant event. No one brought up the fact that Jake and I shared a platter of sushi, or th
e fact that he fed me ginger and ordered a bowl of fresh fruit for me as dessert. The family won me over. They didn’t pity me—except for Mitch the prior day at the hotel bar, but he recovered marvelously from the slip. And they didn’t pry about my relationship with Jake. No doubt it would come out later, but I hoped not in front of me. I expected that when they had the talk, I’d be miles away from them. It was a blessing that I would never see them again—or not, because I liked them. On second thought, I might miss them. Not Liam because…well…he was my boss for at least another few years.
Rachel suggested a walk around the mall. The boys—as she called them—needed warmer clothing. Late spring in San Francisco meant a different thing than in New York where it was already warming up for summer. Truth, the seasoned travelers should know better. Liam did, but the other two didn’t frequent the western states too often, only the Eastern states.
“Now she buys your clothes?” I walked at Jake’s pace, and he shook his head. Clothing shopping was something we did together. When I needed to buy something, he’d join and I’d choose a garment, jeans, shirts, or what I thought would look good on him. “Sorry, not my—”
“Exactly,” he said, his sad smile matching my mood. “Can we do this without bringing up the past?”
“It’s hard,” I said, wanting to add something along the lines of being so freaking hard to forget him, the moments we shared together and my feelings. All while in search for Mr. Right so I could move on and start a brand new family life. Though, how could anyone move on while carrying the death of their parents? And find the Perfect guy, when this one—Jake—was just right for me?
This moment wasn’t much different from the ones we had in New York. Those afternoons walking in toward the shops to buy new clothes, or heading to the farmers market for fresh fruit and veggies. The Central Park long walks, the early runs and, the times when he flew me to private beaches, historical cities and museums I’d enjoy. Jake made my dreams come true without knowing. I stared at the Mona Lisa for two hours as Jay stood next to me not saying a word, or putting me under pressure. He did the same with other precious pieces of art. He got me without knowing. He was a hard act to follow.
Chapter 19
Emma
WESTFIELD SAN FRANCISCO was bigger than I remembered. They added a whole new building to it. Bloomingdale’s, one of my favorite stores to window shop the eye candy of fashion, opened its doors to me. Technically Mitch did. I only bought a couple of items from the store each year. The rest? I procured at big sales in smaller department stores and boutiques. My shoes came mostly from online sites which carried designer brands at more affordable prices. A single woman who supported herself couldn’t spend a thousand dollars on a pair of heels. I loved my high heels, but shallowness wouldn’t take me far if I wasn’t smart with my money. Jake tried to buy me clothing, but I never let him. While Mitch walked with his mom and dad to the men’s department, Jake and Liam decided to venture outside Bloomies. I stayed confused in the middle of the separation.
“Emma, you coming?” Liam asked, while lightly touching my elbow to follow them. “You don’t want to be around mama bear and her cub while they shop.”
“Mitch’s the baby,” Jake said. “He stayed almost two months in the hospital when we were born, while they released me a week after the happy event. My parents paid for a private room for the entire family to stay there to keep us together. Mitch’s delicate health during the first six months of his life had an impact on Mom. She thinks he’s the one who needs her attention the most, if not he’ll die. Mitch hates it and they begin to fight when she smothers him too much. Why do you think the guy lives on this side of the pond?”
Understandable, yet it was information I didn’t need to know. It seems that instead of getting out of the hole, I kept digging myself inside the Knight’s burrow. Not that they were rabbits—I pictured them with fuzzy tails and began to laugh. Jake gave me a humorous glare, put his arm around my shoulder and kissed my temple while we continued our way to the stores. So freaking hard.
Call it force of habit, or a freaky thing, but I ended up helping Jake pick up a couple of sweaters and two long sleeved t-shirts. I chose a pair of shorts and two t-shirts for me that were on sale. Jake grabbed both shopping bags from my hands and decided to take them to the car. We agreed to meet at the Yerba Buena Center, one of my favorite places, which was surrounded by a few small art museums, galleries, and the Center was adorned with sculptures.
“Sam’s looking for you,” Liam said, while we walked toward the Center. “I recommend you ignore him, Emma. Don’t answer the phone or listen to his messages. I’ll deal with him next week.”
“What did I do now?” Everything had become a problem between me and Sam. I had no doubt he’d banish me from breathing in the near future, that would kill me or make me quit. A look from Liam gave me the answer I expected. Nothing, he was being Sam.
“Are you and my brother getting back together?” he asked almost absently.
Let’s talk about Sam, please. “No,” I responded; wanting to add something like, Back to what? Pretending we have a perfect arrangement, where I fake not to care about him and he gets laid whenever he feels like it? He dumps me when he gets bored while I continue falling hard for him every day. “I want things he’ll never want, and even if he did want them, I’m not the right girl for him.”
“Blah, blah, we’re a couple of idiots. Got it,” he said, while he moved his hand like a hand puppet. “It’s the truth, Emma. As I said two years ago, I’m not touching your relationship, getting involved or mouthing an opinion. Your job has nothing to do with him and everything to do with your performance. Though I wish things were different for the two of you. Somehow, even when I don’t get you, I like you. I miss Jake and Emma, TMI aside, you two are fun. Also, most importantly, I yearn to eat like a rabbit.” I playfully slapped him in the arm while we continued walking. His sarcasm was funny, for once.
However, a pang I couldn’t ignore hit me hard, because I missed Jake and Emma too. Factually, there was no way in this lifetime that we would be back to what we shared. Finally, our walk put us right in front of the fountain that looked like a cascade and had the most astonishing light display at night. Liam left me there to go into the Apple store that he wanted to browse.
I stared at the sculptures and the fountain and my eyes didn’t know where to concentrate, with so much beauty placed together. My fingers craved to touch raw clay and transform it into something. The only drawing I’d done since my parents died had been traced over Jake’s back or chest for hours. He let me use his clean canvas to bare my feelings, without knowing what I was up to.
“Babe,” Jake voice said, before his lips touched the side of my neck, shooting charges of electricity through my entire body. As if I had summoned him, he arrived at the exact moment that I needed his touch. “We can’t stare at the pretty fountain forever.”
“This place looks incredible at night,” I said, then rested my head on his chest and closed my eyes, letting myself go for a few minutes. “Can we stay a little longer?”
“I’ll bring you after the meet and greet; or tomorrow,” he said, and interlaced his pinky finger with mine where he kissed it, sealing the deal. “Mitch and my parents are waiting for us over at Union Square. Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah,” I vaguely answered. My mind begged me to move, my body didn’t comply. Worse, Jake’s arms had captured my entire body. The protection created by his strong arms made me want to beg for another chance to be with him, even when this was a fake relationship. “Thank you for the TLC. It means a lot.”
“Mhm.” We both knew that sound. Liam clearing his throat because things were getting a little out of his acceptable PDA range.
Whoa, why were we backtracking instead of moving forward?
I opened my eyes and escaped from the fake warmth and stability I gave up three months ago. Jake composed himself avoiding my eyes. Fine, it was better to shove it under the rug. That
thing was looking humpy with so many things swept underneath it. The three of us began our walk to meet the rest of the crew.
The ten minute walk from the Center to Union Square felt longer than the half time show of the Super Bowl, and nothing magical, not even a musical or a wardrobe malfunction happened. Rachel waved at us, but her glare didn’t look friendly. Mitch’s red face gave away his mood. Ed’s absence didn’t look promising, but I abstained from making any comment. It didn’t take long to learn that, after many years of marriage, the man knew how to calm his wife. He bought her a Ghirardelli box of chocolates, and after she ate two pieces of them the vendetta between Mitch and her dissipated. I wanted this, not them; but a family who’d care so much about each other. A husband, who after years would still woo his wife like they had just met.
Bomb diffused, emotions simmered, and ready to continue killing time until the next big wedding event, we journeyed into Chinatown. Meanwhile, I pointed to the different old buildings which housed modern stores. Back when I was a child, the one pink lingerie store used to be the local bookstore. I remembered the toy stores and even a music box store. That one was my favorite place; each unique piece had a different artistic quality. They not only sold music boxes, but also snow globes. Mom had a big collection of them, some were self-purchased from her travels, and others were gifts from friends and family who knew about her collection. Most of them were lost after my parents died. I didn’t remember what I did with them, or who took the boxes from where I had stored them.
We walked in two lines, Rachel, Ed and I leading the expedition with me in the middle. I waited for one of my defensive mechanisms to kick in. Me going quiet, bitchy or simply detach myself and begin to do my businesslike voice, answering politely to whatever they asked, giving nods and shakes. Instead, I told them stories without them asking. Like the time when Mom and I walked from Pier 1 all the way to Pier 39 and then took the ferry to Alcatraz and back—without taking the Alcatraz tour. I was eleven years old, and when the building of the old prison came into my view it terrified me so I begged Mom to take me back home.
Getting by (A Knight's Tale) Page 12