by Claire Adams
Emily and I laughed as we danced across the floor under Nina’s watchful eye. She smiled at me and gave me a thumbs up when Emily’s back was turned to her, and I laughed as I found my groove. Just before midnight, the crew turned the lights down and we all went outside to watch the city’s fireworks show. I wrapped my arms around Emily and pulled her back against my chest as we turned our eyes to the sky and oohed and ahhed with every bright explosion that lit up the night sky.
When the last sparkling lights melted from the sky, I could hear the partygoers counting down to midnight.
“FIVE…FOUR…THREE…TWO…ONE…HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
Emily turned and rested her hands on my chest as she whispered, “Happy New Year, Blake.”
“Happy New Year, indeed,” I smiled, as I leaned down and kissed her. I’d intended to keep it short and sweet, but she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me closer, so I lingered, feeling her warm lips pressed against mine as the blood in my body went rushing south.
“Oh my God, you two are so gross!” Nina protested, as she came out the back door and caught us mid-kiss.
“Just wait until you have someone you want to kiss,” Tony said. “You’ll feel very different about the gross-out factor. Believe me.”
“Perish the thought,” I said, shooting him a stern look. “My daughter is not going to be kissing until she’s 30.”
“Oh Dad, please,” Nina said, rolling her eyes. “I’m 16; the hormones are going to kick in any day now. Good luck stopping them.”
“Can we please not talk about this right now?” I said, feeling my stomach start to twist as the desire for Emily hit the fear of my daughter meeting up with guys who wanted to do the same thing with her. “I’m feeling a little sick.”
“You’re so dramatic,” Nina sighed, making everyone outside laugh and lightening the moment.
“You girls ready to head home?” I asked, looking down at Emily.
“Mmm hmm,” she nodded. “It’s kind of late, and tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”
Nina and I dropped Emily off at her house and waited until she was safely inside before we headed home.
“You know, Dad,” Nina said, as I turned the corner and stepped on the gas. “I like Emily. She’s good for you.”
“I’m glad you think so,” I said sneaking a side glance at my 16-year-old.
“I do, but I think you need to admit that you want her to spend the night so you two can have sex,” Nina continued, matter-of-factly.
“Not talking about this,” I said, coughing a little to try and hide my discomfort.
“Dad, you are so old-fashioned,” she said exasperatedly. “I’m just saying this so that we can have an honest conversation about birth control and STDs. You need to protect yourself, you know. People in your age group are the second highest risk group, right after seniors in assisted living facilities.”
“What in the hell?” I exclaimed. “Where on earth are you learning these things? And how do you know seniors are the highest risk group?”
“Dad, I learn this stuff in health class,” she said, in a tone that reminded me of my mother. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing as she continued, “It’s not shameful; it’s practical. And seniors are the highest risk group because you don’t stop having sex just because you get old! Besides, they’re all living together and jumping into each other’s beds. You’re so behind the times. Seriously, dude.”
“Do you talk to your mother about this stuff?” I asked, trying to gauge her comfort level.
“Yes, Dad,” Nina laughed. “Mom’s obsessed with making sure I have more information that I’ll ever need. She’s obsessed, really.”
“Don’t talk about your mother like that,” I said, weakly protesting her criticism despite the fact that I knew exactly how Remy would respond to a conversation like this, and it wouldn’t be well.
“I’m not saying anything I don’t already say to her,” Nina said. “Basically, I just wanted you to know that you shouldn’t use oil-based lube with condoms; it degrades the rubber and makes them unsafe. Water-based lube is best.”
“Can we please not have this conversation right now?” I asked, as I steered us into the driveway and turned off the truck. “I’m very glad that you have so much knowledge about this stuff, but your old man needs a little time to process the fact that you know it. Give me until tomorrow morning?”
“Gotcha, Dad,” Nina nodded, as she opened the door and stepped out, calling over her shoulder, “I wouldn’t want you to have a heart attack because your daughter knows something you don’t.”
I reached down and scooped up a handful of snow, quickly packed it, and then aimed it at her, hitting her squarely between the shoulder blades as she walked to the front door.
“Childish,” she called. “That’s so very childish, Dad!”
“I wish you’d stay a child,” I muttered, as I followed her up the walk. “Growing up sucks for dads.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Emily
By the next morning, Howard had forgiven my absence and was curled up next to me in bed, purring softly. I lay there petting his head as I recalled the night before and how wonderful it had been to spend the evening with Blake, getting to know his friends and colleagues. Nina had grown more comfortable with her father dating me, and I felt like maybe the trip to the Waltham Museum had gotten through to her in a way that I hadn’t been able to before.
“I gotta get up, little man,” I said, as patted Howard’s head one more time before I slipped out of bed and padded to the kitchen to make some coffee. I turned on the radio and sang along with the playlist of classic rock hits, and realized that I missed KO more than I’d anticipated.
I thought about calling her, but when I looked at the clock, I realized she’d probably been up all night partying and would still be fast asleep. I’d do it later. Howard hopped up on the counter and stared at me accusingly.
“Yes, yes, I know,” I said, pulling a can of food out of the cupboard. “You’re still pissed at me for missing the wet food drop yesterday. It’s not as if you didn’t have a full bowl of dry food ready and waiting, mister.”
Howard blinked once and then looked out the window, indicating that my explanation was wholly unacceptable. I shook my head as I served up his breakfast on the counter and turned to the fridge to make my own meal.
“You know, you’re a poor substitute for Blake,” I said, as I sat down at the counter with my toast and a jar of peanut butter. Howard ignored my insult and continued eating. I thought about calling Blake but decided that since we had plans for later, it would be best to leave him alone and not seem so desperate.
“Oh my gosh,” I laughed, with a mouth full of peanut butter toast. “Listen to me. I sound like a high school girl with a crush on the quarterback!”
Howard gave me the side eye, and then hopped down from the counter and stretched out in a patch of sunshine, where he proceeded to clean himself. I quickly finished my breakfast, cleaned the kitchen, and then went to take a shower and get ready for whatever adventure Blake had planned for us today.
I was curled up on the couch with a book on early 20th century Massachusetts history when I heard a knock at the door. I popped up off the couch and ran to welcome Blake into the house, but when I opened the door, I felt nothing but dread.
“Hello, Emily,” my mother said. My father nodded without saying anything as my mother looked at me and asked, “Aren’t you going to invite your parents in?”
“How did you find me?” I blurted out.
“Please, Emily, we know people in this town,” my father said pointedly. “Now, are you going to invite us inside or must we have this conversation on the stoop?”
“Of course,” I said in a meek voice, as I stepped back and gestured at the living room. “Won’t you please come in?”
“That’s more like it,” my mother nodded. “All those finishing school lessons paid off after all.”
“Why are you here?” I as
ked, once I’d taken their coats and hung them in KO’s hall closet. My mother was examining the living room with a critical eye while my father had settled himself as far away from Howard as he could.
“It’s certainly not for a social visit, Emily,” my mother sniffed. “But it’s nice of you to ask. We’re here to see what happened to the house and find out why you didn’t see fit to tell us about the fire. We had to hear about it from our friends on the Waltham City Council. What were you thinking, Emily? Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for us?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, looking down at the floor and feeling like I was a child again. “I didn’t mean to keep you out of the loop. I’ve just been busy trying to get the insurance claim filed and find a new place to live.”
“Your mother has been all out of sorts about this, Emily,” my father said, looking disdainfully around KO’s living room. “If you couldn’t afford a proper place to live, you really should have called. We would have paid for better quarters.”
“I know, Daddy,” I nodded, feeling ashamed and angry at the same time. I hated the way my parents could apply just enough guilt to make me crumble. “I said I’m sorry. I just wanted to take care of it myself.”
“Very well, what’s done is done,” my mother said, trying to sound magnanimous. “But you never sent me a thank you note for the present I sent you for Christmas.”
“I’m sorry, Mother,” I said quietly. “It got burned up in the fire.”
“My God, Emily, must you always be so careless?” she exclaimed. “The very least you could do would be to acknowledge the gift was received. I swear, it’s like throwing money down a well with you.”
I could feel my throat beginning to constrict as the tears formed in the corner of my eyes. I was angry at her for making this whole situation worse by scolding me for a breach of manners, and yet I also knew she was right. I should have written the note.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” I said. “It was a mistake.”
“Indeed it was, I’m glad you can acknowledge that much,” my mother sighed. “I’m not sure where I went wrong with you. Your sister turned out so well and you, well, you are a disappointment on so many levels, Emily.”
“Why are you saying this to me?” I cried. “Why did you even come visit? If you wanted to torture me, you could have done it over the phone and with a lot less hassle for all of us!”
“Oh goodness, don’t go getting so dramatic, Emily,” my mother said, as she rolled her eyes and laughed uncomfortably. “We came to see how you were doing and if you needed anything.”
“I need to not be tormented by you!” I spat.
“Emily, do not speak to your mother in that tone of voice,” my father warned. “I’ll not have it.”
“Then tell her not to bait me!” I protested. I had completely reverted to child mode now and was anxious to get away from the two of them. I hadn’t seen them in several years, and time had softened the edges of our conflicted relationship, but now the sharp angles and jagged lines of everything that had gone on between us reasserted themselves and reminded me why I kept my distance.
“Emily Jean Fowler, get a hold of yourself!” my mother scolded. Howard hopped off the couch and stalked over to where my mother stood staring out the front window. I watched as he gave her a cold stare and then swiped his claw across her ankle. “Ouch! You little beast!”
My mother pulled her foot back as if she were preparing to kick the cat, but I swooped in and scooped him up off the floor, holding him in my arms as we both watched her examine the scratches.
“That cat is a beast,” my mother said angrily. “You ought to have him put down.”
Howard’s growl began as a low rumble, and I knew that no good would come of it, so I walked back to the bedroom and put him on the bed.
“Stay here while I get rid of the beasts in the front room,” I said, without humor. Howard blinked once as if to acknowledge our shared disdain, and then curled up on my pillow with a watchful eye on the door.
“Mother, Daddy,” I began, as I entered the living room. “I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing. I don’t—”
There was a knock at the door, and when I opened it, I was both relieved and dismayed to find Blake on the other side. I regretted not having explained my family situation to him, but I also knew that it most likely would have been the kiss of death to our budding romance. Now, I had no choice but to deal with it. I just hoped he’d forgive me later.
“Blake,” I said, giving him a weak smile. “Just in time to meet my parents. Blake Gaston, this is my mother, Charlotte Fowler, and my father, William. Mother and Daddy, this is Blake Gaston.”
“You’re dating someone?” my mother sniffed, as she looked Blake up and down.
“It’s so nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Fowler,” Blake smiled, as he extended his hand. My mother gave him a limp shake and a smile that did not reach her eyes. Blake turned to my father and did the same. “Mr. Fowler, it’s nice to meet you.”
My father started at the offered hand and then asked, “Are you on the faculty at Waltham University?”
“No, I’m a firefighter with the Waltham FD,” Blake replied.
“Oh, I see,” my father said, with obvious disdain.
“I’m sorry, sir, is there a problem?” Blake asked, as he shot me a confused look.
“Emily went to Brown University,” my mother sniffed, without elaborating.
“We’re just surprised, that’s all,” my father followed up, without looking at Blake.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just insulted me,” Blake said.
“Well, my grandfather used to say, if the shoe fits,” my father said, trailing off without finishing. He looked at my mother and said, “I believe it’s time we headed home, Charlotte.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Blake said, looking back and forth between my parents. “Are you seriously this rude to everyone, or is it just me?”
“Blake—” I said, trying to warn him off.
“No, don’t ‘Blake’ me as if I’m some child who needs to be reminded of his place with the adults,” Blake said, zeroing in on my father. “Sir, I don’t know what in the hell crawled up your ass and died, but your daughter is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and I’m sure she is perfectly capable of making her own decisions about who to date, upbringing notwithstanding.”
“Listen here, young man,” my father said, pulling himself up to his full height and looking Blake in the eye. “I have no idea who you are or what your relationship with my daughter is, but I will tell you that since I’ve never once heard your name mentioned, I’m guessing it can’t be much.”
“Why you—” Blake seethed.
“Stop it!” I shouted. I was furious with Blake for attacking my parents, and furious with my parents for being here to begin with. I was dangerously close to completely breaking down and I wanted all of them out of the house. “Both of you! Just stop it! I’m not some herd of cattle that you two get to argue over!”
“Emily—” Blake and my father said in unison.
“No, stop it!” I shouted, close to tears. “I don’t want to hear anything from either of you! Get out! All of you, get out of my house!”
“Emily, you’re being horribly rude, young lady,” my mother said in a low voice. “I thought I raised you better than that.”
“Get out, Mother,” I said through clenched teeth. “Get. Out. All of you. OUT!”
Blake stared at me for a moment and then stormed toward the front door, flinging it wide open and marching down the walk to his truck. My parents quickly made their exit, and I slammed the door behind them. With everyone gone, I walked over to the bedroom and flung the door open before I leaned against the wall and slid down until I was sitting with my knees to my chest.
It was only then that I bowed my head and cried harder than I could ever remember. Howard sat next to me mewing softly and patting my arm with his paw, but nothing could soothe the humi
liation and pain in my heart. I wanted to call Blake and apologize, but I didn’t dare.
Instead, I sat in the hallway and sobbed until there were no more tears left.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Blake
I’d driven home in a fit of rage and slammed pots and pans around the kitchen as I prepared dinner for Nina and me. She poked her head into the kitchen, but quickly ducked out without asking questions when she saw the mood I was in. A little while later, I called her to supper, and we ate in relative silence as I stewed over what had happened at Emily’s.
Nina kept quiet as she turned on a movie and we settled in to watch it. Driven by my feelings, I was too restless to sit still for long; I left Nina to watch the movie while I worked out my anger scrubbing the kitchen floor. I muttered to myself about Emily’s parents and their rudeness, and I tried to make sense of what Emily had shouted at us. Why had she been so angry at me?
I went to bed long after Nina had turned in, and tossed and turned all night. By morning, I found myself reaching for my phone to see if Emily had called. When I realized she hadn’t, I felt like the air had been let out of me. I thought about calling her, but quickly nixed the idea when I remembered how angry she’d been and how she’d ordered me out of her house.
If Emily wanted to talk to me, she was going to have to pick up the phone and call.
“You okay, Dad?” Nina yawned, as she flopped down on the couch.
“Yeah, fine. Why?”
“You look like someone killed your dog,” she observed.
“I don’t have a dog,” I shrugged. “You want breakfast or do you want to go out? Maybe see a movie?”
“Yeah, sure,” she said, giving me a strange look. “I’ll get ready.”
We stopped for lunch at the diner and ate quickly so that we could make the early afternoon show. We spent two hours watching teenager after teenager get murdered by an unknown assailant, and by the time we came out of the dark theater, it was getting close to dinner.