Always Emily

by Mary Sullivan

  This morning, she knew she needed reinforcements. She had nothing new to give to Aiyana. She phoned her brother, Cody.

  “Hey, what’s up?” he answered, voice deep. She kept forgetting he was on the verge of manhood.

  “You still go to school, right?”

  “Yeah. I’m working on a couple of more credits this year.”

  “And, judging by Sunday’s practice, you’re still on the basketball team?”

  “Do bears shit in the woods?”

  Emily laughed. She loved Cody. She’d spent too much time away. “Remember all of that business with Justin White and the things he said about Aiyana?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “It’s escalating.”

  “How’s Aiyana?”

  “Bad. Are you near your computer? Pull up this Facebook page.” She gave him the URL.

  “I’m booting it up. Holy shit!”

  “What?”

  “I just opened the page. What a load of crap.” Emily could hear his disgust across the line. “She’s not like that.”

  “You should see what these kids are sending around the Twitterverse. It’s disgusting.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  At his spontaneous offer of help, Emily felt a little teary. Jordan men were awesome. Cody was willing to help at the drop of a hat. Most of the kids at school would probably be too intimidated, too afraid of reprisals from the cool kids. But then, Cody was a big, strong, good-looking athlete. Maybe he was one of the cool kids.

  “She’s depressed by this,” Emily said. “She’s afraid to go to school, is trying to stay home today, but I’m encouraging her to go and—”

  “—and she’s going to need a friend. You got it, sis.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Nope. Justin’s full of himself. Thinks he’s God’s gift to women. It’s time he got taken down a notch.” Emily heard a grin in his voice. “I have a friend I’ll get to help. Between the two of us, Aiyana will be okay today. I’ll pick her up and drive her to school.”

  “Thanks, Cody. I owe you.”

  “Yeah, you do. I’ll think of something good.”

  “Probably something to do with food or expensive electronics, right?”

  “You got it.” Cody laughed and disconnected.

  Upstairs, she found Aiyana still in bed. Emily explained what was happening.

  When she heard Cody’s name, Aiyana popped up like a jack-in-the-box. “Cody Jordan is driving me to school? Oh, my God, what should I wear? I wore my prettiest dress yesterday.” She flew to her closet, threw clothes onto the bed, rejecting one item after another. “I should have saved it for today.”

  Emily picked up a pair of dark skinny jeans. “These. You’ll wear these.”

  “Cody likes skinny jeans?”

  She didn’t have a clue. “Yep,” she lied, because the important thing was to give Aiyana motivation. Emily chose a white T-shirt with lace at the scooped neckline, and a long red boyfriend cardigan. In the closet she found black velvet flats.

  “Here’s today’s outfit,” she said. “Cody will love it.”

  Aiyana rushed through her shower then took care with her skin. When she returned to the bedroom, she lay down and covered her eyes with the cucumber.

  “I’m glad you’re going in today,” Emily said. “Your dad is worried about you.”

  Aiyana shrugged. “He doesn’t care like you do.”

  What? Holy cow, what was wrong between Salem and his daughter?

  “If he didn’t care, why would he have rushed over to my place two mornings in a row to drag me out of bed—” Aiyana took the slices from her eyes and stared at Emily “—yes, out of bed, looking like a wild-eyed madman, I might add, to haul me over here to you.”

  Emily took her hand. “He cares, Aiyana.”

  “I wish he knew how to show it.”

  “Me, too.”

  Aiyana stared out the window. “Speaking of my dad...”

  “Yes?”

  “Tomorrow, I’m supposed to bring a parent to class to talk about their jobs. Everyone else already has. I’m the last one this year.” She picked at a loose thread on her blanket. “I haven’t asked my dad. Every year, he talks about the same things, about our culture. I want something different this year, but I don’t have a mom.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Can you come?”

  “Me?” Emily’s heart seemed to stutter. Oh, this was sweet. No one had ever asked her to do something like this. “But I’m not your parent.”

  “That’s okay. Sometimes kids bring other people.”

  “I’d...I’d be honored.” Wow.

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  Aiyana’s smile warmed Emily’s heart.

  She got too emotional, almost weepy, laughed and rubbed her stomach. “Do you have much food in the house? I’ve missed breakfast for the third morning in a row. I’m starving.”

  Aiyana laughed and jumped up from the bed. “Grandpa always has lots of food. Come on.”

  Emily followed her downstairs and into the kitchen.

  When Salem’s father saw the smile on his granddaughter’s face, he winked at Emily.

  “What you want for breakfast? Bacon? Eggs?”

  “Toast would be great, Mr. Pearce.”

  “Me, too, Grandpa, but I can get my own.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Emily sent Aiyana off with Cody as though she were a baby chick flying out of the nest for the first time.

  * * *

  EMILY DROVE TO the Cathedral.

  She loved that Aiyana wanted her to come to school tomorrow, but what if it offended Salem?

  She found him in the private storage room where they kept documents and smaller artifacts when they weren’t on display.

  “Hi,” she said, after she’d taken a good long moment to admire the ripple and sway of muscles across his back.

  He wore his standard work “uniform,” a white dress shirt tucked into black jeans. Salem liked to keep the things he wasn’t interested in simple. He could not have cared less about clothes, trends and fashion.

  He probably had no idea how good his skin looked, golden against the crisp white shirt. He’d rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and his forearms flexed.

  When she said hello, he turned from the filing cabinet he’d been rummaging in, his face set in grim lines. Not only did he not want her in his house, he also didn’t want her here in the Heritage Center. What the hell?

  “How did it go with Aiyana?” Both hope and dread filled his tone. “Is she at school?”

  “Yes. Cody picked her up and drove her over. Then I went home and got my car. I’m driving to Denver today.”

  He nodded and waited, his expression giving nothing away.

  “Aiyana asked me something. I think it might upset you.”

  His brow furrowed. “What?”

  “She has to bring one of her parents to school tomorrow to talk.”

  He dropped papers onto the desk. “This stuff must have distracted her. She forgot to ask me. What time do I have to be there?”

  “That’s just it.” Emily ran her nail along the grain of wood on the top of a cabinet. “She wants me to do it.”

  He stopped what he was doing and stared. His mask cracked and everything he felt showed, hurt and anger clear in a man who dreaded emotion.

  “You’re not her parent.” Salem’s voice could have ignited a forest fire. “I put the work into raising her. I put a roof over her head and food on her plate every single day. Not you.”

  He slammed the drawer of a filing cabinet. “I’ve been there for her day in and day out, through good times and bed. I’ve been here. I’ve been reliable.” />
  Meaning that she had been none of that, which was true. The only thing she could do was to bring them back to the subject at hand. “She feels everyone has already heard what you have to say.”

  “About my culture.” His dark eyes flashed. “She doesn’t want me to talk about our culture.”

  “She mentioned you’ve spoken about it for a few years.”

  “Yeah. Since about grade five.” He stared out the window, struggling to come to terms with his daughter’s rejection. Emily got the impression this was all made so much worse for him because Aiyana had invited her instead.

  “What are you going to talk about?” he asked. “Archeology?” He sounded bitter.

  “Nope,” she answered. “I don’t want to tell you, though. I want this to be a surprise. Aiyana can share it with you tomorrow night at dinner.”

  He only nodded, clearly hurt.

  “Are you all right with me doing this? I don’t want to come between you and your daughter.”

  “You’re only one of a bunch of things coming between me and Aiyana.” His tone implied her part was insignificant. “I don’t even know what the other things are. I’ve lost her.”

  For a moment, his expression was so bleak Emily wanted to hold him, but whatever was going on between father and daughter needed to be worked out by them. Whatever was coming between Salem and Emily could be dealt with now, though.

  “What’s wrong between you and me?”

  He shrugged and said nothing.

  “I’ve done nothing but help you and your daughter, but today, you’re treating me like I’m pond scum. Why?”

  “You’ll figure it out in time.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Exactly what I said.”

  “Whatever. I don’t have time for this crap.”

  She stormed out of the building. Jean-Marc had done this to her, too, had been hot one minute and cold the next. Never again would she take that from a man.

  Whatever resentment Salem had going on toward her had to be worked out by him. She had limited emotional resources right now, and her priority had to be Aiyana. Salem was a grown-up, but Aiyana was still developing, and dealing with some horrible stuff.

  On that thought, Emily left Salem to brood. She’d done what she could by warning him, and a good thing she had. If Aiyana hadn’t mentioned it to her father this evening, he would have found out about it after the fact. Emily could only imagine how hurt he would have been by that, although at the moment she couldn’t care less about his feelings.

  She drove to Denver.

  She had a surprise for Aiyana. She wouldn’t be talking about archeology. Instead, she planned to play music. She’d shared with Aiyana that when she had been bullied in high school, her saving grace had been her violin. Tomorrow, she would show her what it had done for her.

  At school, she’d thrown herself into science, had especially adored biology, where everything had a name and a classification. She’d loved math, where everything made sense, where things were linear and one thing flowed from another with perfect reason, where even leaps of logic made perfect sense.

  And then there had been history. Wonderful, immutable history, the interpretation of events and their impact on history open to debate, but not the facts of dates, people and places, especially where it intersected with science, with DNA testing and carbon dating. It had taken her away from the present day, from mean girls and shame and the myriad problems of growing up unpopular and feeling alone. If only she’d had someone to talk to, but she hadn’t. Within history, there were wonderful stories of other people’s lives, deaths and drama, where she’d been safe from her own, where she didn’t have to deal with her overwhelming problems.

  At home, though, had been where she had really shone, where she could really let loose. She’d buried herself in music, spending hour after hour in her attic room listening to everything that caught her fancy, and playing her violin until her fingers developed calluses.

  After all of that time alone, no wonder she had been easy pickings for someone as charming and charismatic as Jean-Marc. No. She wouldn’t think of him. Wouldn’t ruin the wonder of this lovely day, when a girl as sweet as Aiyana wanted to bring Emily to school to represent her. She would bend over backward to do her young friend proud.

  She drove to a music store to rent an instrument.

  “Give me your toughest violin or fiddle. I need a tank.”

  “O-kay,” the young guy said. Usually people asked for the best, not the worst, but Emily had an idea.

  “Throw on the heaviest strings you have. The heavier the better.”

  By the time she left the shop, she was satisfied she could pull off what she had in mind.

  * * *

  AIYANA WALKED INTO the school with Cody Jordan holding her hand. She didn’t know why he was doing it, but wow.

  At her classroom door, he said, “I have a dental appointment so I can’t see you at lunch, but come to watch practice today. Okay?”

  She nodded, tongue-tied, because Cody was gorgeous and nearly three years older than her. A few of the girls were shooting her envious glances. Good.

  As he walked away, he pulled out his phone and made a call. “Soph?” she heard him say. “I need a favor.” Then he was gone, swallowed by the swarms of kids in the hallway.

  The morning didn’t go well. The kids in her class whispered about her, shot her dirty looks and shunned her. One girl, Fiona, gave her a sympathetic look, but shrugged, as if to say, What can I do for you against all of them?

  Aiyana wished Fiona would try something, but really, would she herself have enough nerve to help out someone else in this situation? Sometimes, she felt so shy she could barely speak. How could she fight these people?

  Lunchtime rolled around both too slowly and too quickly, because she knew she would be sitting alone again. She found a table in the corner.

  A second later, someone sat down across from her and Aiyana glanced up, expecting Grant or one of the other boys who’d been giving her strange looks. Instead it was an older girl she’d never spoken to before. Aiyana was startled she had the nerve to support her. Or was she here to give her grief?

  “Hi.” She had a cap of curly brown hair, eyes as dark and large as a doe’s, and a friendly smile. “I’m Sophia Colantonio.”

  “Hi,” Aiyana answered, then remembered Cody’s words. Soph. I need a favor. She smiled. “Cody asked you to sit with me?”

  “Yes, and I’m happy to. Cody was really nice to me when I was going through a tough time. I owe him.”

  She picked up a sandwich that looked amazing, obviously not from here in the cafeteria. There were layers of meat that smelled spicy, some red strips Aiyana didn’t recognize and dark greens on a thick crusty roll. Sophia noticed Aiyana checking it out, borrowed the butter knife from her tray and cut off a hunk of sandwich.

  “Here. Try this.”

  Aiyana took a tentative bite and it burst on her tongue like spicy sunshine. “This is amazing. What’s in here?”

  “Salami, prosciutto and provolone.”

  “And this?”

  “Cherry pepper slices. They come pickled for flavor.”

  “And this?”

  “Fresh kale sautéed with garlic.”

  “Oh, my God, I totally want to learn how to make this. Where did you buy all of this stuff? In Denver?”

  “From my family’s store here in Accord.”

  Aiyana had to think for a moment. Grandpa did all of their shopping at the grocery store five minutes from home. She snapped her fingers. “Tonio’s?” Tonio’s was the organic market on Main.

  “Dad shortened it from Colantonio so it would be easy to pronounce.” Sophia laughed. “And the sign would be shorter, too. Come in sometime and I’ll help you get all of the ingr
edients. I work there on Saturdays.”

  Aiyana smiled shyly. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Sophia stayed with her the entire lunch hour and they learned they had all kinds of interests in common, including being addicted to cryptic crossword puzzles, and thinking To Kill a Mockingbird was the best book ever written.

  “Someday, I want to write something that amazing.” Sophia threw her garbage out and left the cafeteria with Aiyana.

  After school, Aiyana sat in the stands in the gym, way up high apart from the others, alone in a crowd. Everyone avoided her as though she had cooties. It hurt. It was okay to be alone when it was a choice, but not when it was forced on you. Then Sophia showed up.

  “Hi,” she said. “May I sit with you?”

  Such good grammar. You rarely heard that around town, even here in school.

  “You don’t need to babysit me.” Aiyana softened that with a smile because, honestly, she was glad Sophia was here.

  Sophia leaned close and said, quietly, so no one else would hear, “Justin isn’t a nice guy. You’re lucky to be away from him. I wanted to tell you at lunch, but there were too many people around.”

  Aiyana’s mouth dropped open. “Did he try to hurt you?”

  Sophia nodded and pulled a bag of dried fruit out of her bag. “For a long time, I was angry with him for putting pressure on me, but also with myself for giving in. You didn’t give in, did you?”

  Aiyana shook her head.

  “That’s why he’s being nasty to you. He’s a mean-spirited little prick.”

  Aiyana chuffed out a laugh.

  Sophia held out the fruit. “Want some?”

  Aiyana nodded. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll tell you one thing for sure. I’ll never sell myself so cheaply again.”

  “Won’t those other girls, his friends, give you a hard time about sitting with me?”