She opened the door and was shocked to see Jared there.
"Why... why are you here?"
Avery came down the hall just in time. He'd slipped on his jeans, but was otherwise naked.
"Is everything okay, Babe?" he asked. Jared's eyes went wide with shock at the sight of the burly fireman.
"No, nothing is wrong. Dr. Hart obviously has come to the wrong house," she spat. She began closing the door, but Jared's shoe acted as a door-stop. Avery stayed at a distance, ready to jump to her aid if needed.
“Emily, what is going on here?” Jared asked, his voice brash. She could feel her temper rising as the man with whom she'd had no contact for two years tried to barge into her home.
“It's time for you to leave," Emily said. "There's nothing here to concern you anymore. There hasn't been anything between us for two years. Just because you see me in the hospital doesn't mean you can force your way back into my life. We have been over for a long time. Now please, kindly fuck off! If you come back to my apartment I will call the police!”
He stood in the doorway completely shocked. She'd never stood up to him before. As soon as his foot retreated, she slammed the door in his face.
“I'm sorry about that,” she said, returning to the coffee machine. Instead of leaving as she suspected he might do, he hugged her from behind.
“It's okay, it isn't your fault, Emily.” He brushed a kiss onto her cheek.
Angered beyond belief at Jared's audacity, she braced her arms on the counter. Then her memorial floodgates opened. There were pieces of their dead relationship everywhere— having sex, watching movies, sharing intimate moments, playing games, creating memories. Everywhere she looked Jared stared back at her. The last to pile in was one of his back as he walked out of her life.
“Are you okay Emily?” Avery's question snapped her back to the present.
“He's just such a fucking jerk!” she exclaimed, slamming her fists on the counter. The coffee mugs rattled. Tears threatened to spill out of her eyes.
“Hey, hey. It's okay,” he said, shushing her. He spun her and took her in his arms. "It's okay. He's gone. And, hey. If I ever see him again, he'll be the one that needs a doctor." He said, grinning. She smiled through her anger.
"Hopefully you won't see him again," she said. "You should know that we were together for a long time. Had he not walked out on me, we might have been married today.” She was clearly uncomfortable but she continued. “He left me a few days after my parents died— walked right out, no explanation given. I don't think I ever dealt with the break-up because I was too wrapped up in grieving. The day you brought me into the ER was the first day I'd seen him in two years."
“I knew he looked familiar,” he mentioned.
"During our relationship, my parents loved him more than I did. I was pretty miserable. In the hospital room he tried to talk to me but I hadn't recovered my memory yet and I told him to go because I didn't recognize him. When he came by the other day, I told him to fuck off because I still couldn't remember him.” She dressed her coffee and Avery stood nearby, smiling and sipping his own.
"Don't waste anymore tears on him," he said. "Call the cops if he comes back and forget he ever existed. He's a bastard." He embellished his statement with a shrug. “What's done, is done. It's in the past. Why don't we just worry about the future? Our future together.” His words vibrated through her entire being. Our future. She was starting to hope it would last forever.
“So let me get this straight.” Becca chomped down on a bite of her deli sandwich and talked even though her mouth was full, “He just showed up at your apartment, and Avery just watched the whole thing?”
“Yeah, he just keeps popping up at my apartment. He was pissed when he saw Avery.” Emily munched on some chips and sipped her Pepsi. "Avery said he'll put him in the hospital if he ever sees Jared again."
“Good! That fuckin' snake deserves everything he gets,” Becca added before taking another nibble of her sandwich.
“Speaking of Avery, what's the story with you and his friend Tom?" Emily teased.
Becca wiggled her eyebrows and grinned devilishly.
“Oh, we hooked up. That man fucks like a beast!”
Emily choked on her sandwich, her face flushing bright red as she pounded her fist against her chest. Tears spilled down Emily's face as she chugged her soda. Becca laughed hysterically.
“I should know better than to eat with you. Remind me why we go to lunch so damn often?” Emily laughed, catching her breath.
"Cause I'm cute and you love me." Becca's smile sparkled.
“You gonna see him again?” Emily asked.
“Are you crazy? You bet your ass I am! That man knows how to use his equipment!"
Emily checked the time on her phone and began gathering her trash. "Crap, I've got to get out of here. I will have to call you later and tell you about our visit to my parents' house."
"Your parents'—" Becca's eyes shot open. "You went to your parents' house?"
"I promise I will tell you about it later," Emily said, patting her friend on the shoulder.
"How the hell can you drop a bomb like that before you leave?" Becca asked, feigning anger.
"Because I'm cute and you love me," Emily said, shooting her a cheesy grin.
"Whatever. Call me, bitch," Becca said blowing her a kiss. Emily shook her head and sprinted to her car.
Sitting down in the passenger seat, she fished her cell phone out to discover a missed call from her sister, and a text from Avery. Avery wins, she thought as she opened the message.
Avery: Miss you. Can't wait to see you tonight. Pick you up at 5? xoxo
The similarities between Avery and her father were sometimes glaringly obvious. He was a gentleman, and it was that very thing that had her falling for him, already.
Emily: See you then xoxo
Emily sat gazing at her computer screen waiting for the words to come to her. After being with her firm for five years, she wasn't going to be returning. She loved her job and all of her colleagues, but she couldn't go back. Too much had changed in her life over the past few weeks.
In college she had toyed with the idea of switching her major from marketing to design. Her parents and grandfather had talked her out of switching. Her grandfather had gotten it into his head that she should be the one to take over the marketing department for his racing company. To please those around her, she had agreed not to switch. Little had they known, she had completed a double major in both. Having the option to move into another field had been worth the struggle. The workload had been killer.
Avery had given her the encouragement to pursue her dream of founding her own interior design business. She decided it shouldn't be anything complicated in the initial stages. She needed guidance and her first and closest resource was Amelia about how to go about starting it up. If she wouldn't show her any support, her next stop would be her grandfather. All Emily had to do was bat her eyes in his direction and he would have a small army of businessmen at her feet asking how they can help.
When the letter of resignation didn't come to her, she decided to give her big sister a call.
It hardly rang before there was an answer, “Amelia Taylor O'Connor.”
“Hey 'Melia,” Emily greeted. “What'cha up to?” They made small talk about mutual acquaintances, dinners and business affairs. Eventually her sister ran out of things about which to boast. The ensuing silence was Emily's cue.
“I'm glad we got a chance to catch up," Emily said abruptly.
"Yeah, this was nice. Is everything okay?"
"Oh yeah everything is fine... I was hoping to get your help with something. I want to start my own business.” She held her breath waiting for her sister's reply.
“Why on Earth would you want to do such a thing?”
Yup! This is going to go downhill really quick. Emily hesitated for a moment before debating on ways to end the call.
“Okay, well... ForgetIsaidanything.Loveyou,
bye!” Emily hung the phone up quickly before her sister could get in another word. She buried her face in her hands. Why did I think that would work?
She slouched in her computer chair and closed her laptop. She reached for the phone one more time before dialing Pop pop, her maternal grandfather who would inevitably send her in the right direction. If Amelia didn't want to be a part of this, she wouldn't bring it up to her again.
“What'd ya do this afternoon?” Avery questioned as Emily hopped up into the passenger seat of his truck. She huffed and giggled. She gave him the abridged version of her day.
“Well, it started with lunch. Apparently my best friend is banging your sex-god of a best friend.” He shot her a look of horror before turning his eyes back onto the road. “Yeah, I know... not what I wanted to hear about over my sandwich. Then I tried to write my letter of resignation for work but I ended up just staring at the blank screen for a half-hour. I started to argue with my sister, and then buttered up my Pop Pop for some business advice.” She gave him an exhausted look and inhaled a sharp breath after finishing.
“Business advice?” he prodded.
“Well, my grandpa is a pretty successful businessman. So, after mulling over the idea of starting my new interior design business I figured I would see what I would need to start a business.”
Avery froze at the sound of her words. Had she actually listened to his encouragement? “That is awesome!” he replied while pulling into the driveway of a little green beach house. The driveway was short and empty. The yard was mowed, but not maintained well. What stood out the most was the bright blue front door. Yikes! she thought to herself, what a freaking hideous color!
The small rental wasn't much, but Avery called it home, for the time being. He eventually planned on buying his own home in the area, but didn't have any plans until he was ready to settle down. He couldn't cramp a wife or kids into his tiny two-bedroom beach house.
“Welcome to my shack,” he joked as he jumped out of the truck. Instead of waiting for Avery to come around and open her door, she got out on her own.
“So this is where you live?” she asked, one of brows floating above the other.
“My landlords are eccentric when it comes to their decorating. But at least they let me do some painting on the inside of the house. Wait until you see the hideous orange living room. I haven't gotten to that room yet.”
“Orange paint doesn't scare me. I can take it," she said, putting up the unnecessary front that she was a tough boxer getting ready for a fight. She popped her neck and shrugged her shoulders. "I'm ready." She said, banging her fists together. He shook his head.
"You'd better be glad I like that you're weird," he said, snickering.
Once inside, it wasn't much different than she'd envisioned. He'd purchased the entire "bachelor's collection", which included a crappy futon, a second-hand coffee table and giant television. The kitchen appliances looked virtually untouched. She might have been able to work with the orange wall if forced.
She was floored when she entered the dining room. On a buffet table against the wall was a stereo and beside it was a remote. Avery grabbed the remote and punched a button. I Don't Want This Night to End by Luke Bryan filled the room. The dining table yielded two tall candles and two elegant place-settings. She couldn't have been more surprised. He sang as he guided her to her seat.
“Will you spend the night with me tonight?”
WHEN MOMMA CALLS
His phone rang.
It didn't stop.
Emily winced as the phone interrupted her dreams.
It rang a final time and stopped, just before Avery could answer.
“Who the hell...?" His hand fumbling over the nightstand.
“Everything okay?” Emily asked, not opening her eyes.
She heard him dial a number and a voice warbled on the other side.
“It's my grandmother, something is wrong with my mom,” he mumbled, immediately returning the call. Emily woke up with a start, shooting up in bed. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“Gran, what's wrong?” Avery questioned into the phone. He flushed and sweat beaded across his brow. Emily ran a comforting hand over his arm.
“Yes... Uh huh... I see." He rubbed his own eyes. She could only imagine the stress he carried there. "Right away, Gran." The call disconnected. A tear fell over his cheek, his hand over his mouth. He stared straight ahead as if in a trance, then suddenly threw off the blankets. He hopped to his feet and grabbed his jeans off the floor.
“My grandmother found my mom collapsed and unconscious. She's been rushed to the hospital. I'm leaving right away for Georgia.” He stepped into his pants. "Hand me my belt, please," he requested, reaching out his hand. She slid off the bed and retrieved it from the chair upon which it'd been draped.
“Is there anything I can do? Will the captain just let you go like that?” she asked. She was genuinely concerned.
"Fuck the captain. Fuck the station. This is family we're talking about," he said, pulling on his shirt. He yanked down a duffel bag from a high shelf in his closet. She threw on the dress she'd worn to his house and began smoothing down her disarranged hair. He tossed the duffel on the bed and began indiscriminately piling clothes into it.
"I'll take you home real quick, unless you think you can get somebody to pick you up," he said, throwing a pair of socks and underwear in the bag and zipping it up.
"Pick me up? I'm going with you!" she stated vehemently.
"With me? Em, you don't have to do that," he said, shaking his head.
"Are you saying I can't come?" she asked, a hand on her hip.
"No. I just..."
"You can't think of a single damn reason why I can't come," she said. "It will take me five minutes to pack a bag and my house is on the way to the highway. I'm going."
In the first ten minutes of the trip, they'd taken care of the necessities. She'd called Becca to make sure Flip was tended to. Avery had called Captain Sullivan on speakerphone and told him that he had to take time off for a family emergency. The captain didn't deny him.
They flew down northbound I-95 toward the Florida-Georgia state line. For a while, NPR blasted over the radio. It was very possible that Avery paid it absolutely no heed. Sick of talk radio, Emily plugged her Ipod into the auxiliary port and flipped through to one of her favorite songs.
Hunter Hayes' I Want Crazy spilled through the speakers of the truck. Much to her surprise and delight, the song coaxed a smile across his face. She put her hand on his shoulder, toying her hands in his hair. She hoped her being there for the crisis would help, no matter what the outcome.
Just over three hours later, they found themselves in the small Georgia town in which Avery had been born and raised. When they called these burgs one-horse towns, it was not an exaggeration. They didn't even have a traffic light; Emily looked. She had spent time in Georgia before, but never in such a tiny town. She'd seen Macon, Savannah and of course Atlanta on a number of occasions for the races at the Atlanta Motor Speedway.
Four or five turns brought them to the mouth of a long, dirt road flanked by tall cedar trees. As they drove for what felt like a half-mile, the trees opened to a clearing in the middle of which sat a large, white house with brick-red shutters. With its wrap-around porch, faded siding and mismanaged lawn, Emily could tell its beauty had degraded. She found it exceedingly charming. It was the kind of house one hoped to come across when in search of a peaceful, isolated getaway spot.
Avery brought the truck to a stop in the grass and got out to open Emily's door for her. A diminutive lady issued from the front door, wringing her hands in a dish-cloth. She squinted her eyes from the porch as the screen-door thwacked closed behind her.
"Is that you, Avery?" she called out, though they were only a few feet from the porch.
"Yes Gran, it's me. I came as quick as I could." He hurried to the porch to save his grandmother the trouble of descending the steps.
"Oh, I've missed you
Suga'," she said, taking him in her arms. She held him at arm's length. "You ain't been eatin' right," she complained. The elderly lady turned her attention to Emily, her wispy silver hair catching in the breeze. "Well... who's this fine young lady?"
“Gran, this is my girlfriend Emily. Emily, this is my Gran. She raised me with my Momma," he said, ushering Emily forward for his grandmother's inspection.
"Nice to meet you... eh... ma'am," she said politely. She wasn't sure whether she should reach out her hand for shaking.
"Call me Gran. Everybody calls me Gran," she corrected with a toothy grin. She pulled out a pair of spectacles from her apron pocket, then slipped them on to squint at Emily through them.
"Oh, she's perdy, this one." The septuagenarian nodded. Emily's face turned beet-red. "Good job, boy. I like her. Come on in, now. Drop off your bags and we'll go to the hospital."
Emily grinned at Avery as the woman turned her back on them. He was a grandma's boy through-and-through and she couldn't help but adore him for it.
Avery clenched tightly onto Emily's hand as they walked through the doors of the intensive care unit of the local community hospital. It wasn't a big hospital, but it was all they had in their little community. It had enough facilities and staff to handle small emergencies and keep major trauma victims from needing to be transferred to larger medical centers.
They reached the waiting room where Avery isolated the doctor on duty. He learned that his mother had an advanced stage of lung cancer— stage four. And because of the lack of treatment, she collapsed from not being able to breathe. Apparently his mother had been aware of her illness for a long time and had refused treatment.
He relayed what he learned to Emily and both sat quietly watching the nurses go about their duties. Naturally he was heartbroken to learn his mother had only a few days to live. For a while, the vending machine buzzing was the only sound they heard above the sipping of coffee and shuffling of feet.
Finally Avery laid his heavy hand on Emily's knee. “I just can't figure out for the life of me why she wouldn't tell me. Why wouldn't she fight it?”
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