Emily Uncensored Book 1: The Neighbors

by Fiona Lexus

  “Molly is at her parents for the Holidays. I needed time to think, and she needs to be let go.” Jonathan says in a soft tone.

  What the hell does that mean ,let go?

  Now I am participating in this hand game we are playing, and both of our hands are together and without helping it I squeeze his hands and I am gone. In that instant I am my fucking mother, giving in to any man who will touch me. But, he isn’t just any man. And he pulls me in tight and kisses me, holding my hair now and wringing it around his fingers. He tugs on it and it hurts but in a good way. I forget where I am and what he is and what he is doing and I give in.

  For the next ten minutes, everything is a blur. I know we don’t have sex, or anything even close, but the way he makes me feel without even having to do anything is pretty overwhelming. Maybe this is love I think. Maybe he was right. All of a sudden I break away from his grasp. I pull backwards and he reaches out for me again.

  “No.” I shake my head from side to side and creep backwards to the door.

  “What do you mean no?” Jonathan walks towards me.

  “I mean, this is my father’s study, and trust me I have had quite the night already, so just give me a break ok?” I put my hands up to my face and run then over my face and hair, trying to wash away this fucking mess of an evening. Isn’t Christmas supposed to be all eggnog and pie and shit? I mean, who does this? Oh, wait I do.

  “Emily, I came out here to bring you back and I am not leaving without you.” He says this in a very matter of fact way. Like it’s worked before for him.

  “Well, don’t you worry your pretty little head, Jonny, I am flying out of here first thing Monday morning. My mom booked me the flight. But, I’m not so sure what I am going back to? Living above my crazy lover and his wife?” I open the door and walk out. I head through the maze of people and towards the front door. I figure Jonathan won’t follow me or his cover will be blown. And I am right!

  I hear my mother shout out “Jonny! Come dance with us girls!” in her drunken stammer.

  But what I don’t realize, is how stubborn and hell bent Jonathan is on making me listen to him. On having things his way. He ignores my mother completely and follows me through the crowd of people. I make it to the front door and out onto the street where I am hailing a cab. I realize I am not in New York, and cabs are not at my disposal. Jonathan makes it out front and he is on his phone. Giving my parents address out. He hangs up.

  We stare at each other in the street.

  “I called a cab.” He says and seems somber.

  “Jonathan, look, all I want is an explanation. I also sort of want a certain amount of normalcy in a relationship. I don’t mean normal like this (I point to my parents’ house). I mean normal like, no contracts, no wife, no stalking me sort of normal.”

  “I understand, I really do. Look, can you meet me tomorrow on top of the Macy’s building? 8am?” he raises his eyebrows.

  “That’s fucking early, and you know it!” I plead in my girlish, annoying way pointing in his face. He laughs.

  “Can you?” He pleads.

  The cab pulls up.

  I look and see that it’s Mike. Jesus isn’t this city big enough, where you aren’t supposed to see people you know. How is one supposed to escape human contact here?

  “Hey, Emily!” Mike says as he rolls down his window. I wave trying to not make it a big deal, and anticipating Jonathan’s reaction. Instead Jonathan looks at Mike, realizes he is not a threat and then sets his glare back at me one-hundred times more potent than before.

  “Emily, please.” Jonathan seems desperate. I agree by nodding my head.

  “8am, but don’t expect me to be alert and on my best behavior.”

  He doesn’t touch me or try and kiss me, he just gets in the cab and shuts the door. Wow, if I didn’t know any better I would think that he was throwing a silent little hissy fit. I bend down to the window where Mike is.

  “Hey are you working tomorrow?” I ask him.

  “I can be, why? You need more weed?” Mike laughs and I look to Jonathan for a reaction. He just raises his eyebrows.

  “You two know each other?” Jonathan asks. I knew he would. I ignore him and continue with Mike.

  “No, I don’t need your potion, I need a ride. Can you be here at 8am to get me?” I ask.

  “Emily, you will be late if he comes at 8:00am, better make it 7:30am good man.” And Jonathan taps the back of Mike’s chair. Jesus, control freak! I look at Mike and smile. I can tell he is confused but nods.

  “OK, so 7:30am, Emily, got it!” Mike moves his beanie around on his head. “Oh, by the way, I got a call from Becky earlier wanting a cab. Was she here?”

  “Oh, fuck, Mike, that is a long story. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.” I pull away from the cab and realize I am actually quite cold. I fold my arms together and stand as the cab rolls away in its weird, Prius-like quietness.

  What a day.

  16

  The Whole Truth

  My alarm goes off in its usual, loud, annoying fashion. I want to hit the snooze button so badly, but realize what I have to do, so I throw myself out of bed. Last night when I came upstairs, after dodging my mother and her friends, and taking a hot shower, I picked out a perfect outfit for my mysterious Macy’s meeting with Jonathan. From the collection of clothes my mother still has up here, I was able to concoct a traditional San Francisco ensemble which includes hipster jeans, a plaid button up, black trench coat and my Harry Potter scarf. I feel like myself again, and so I put on my shoes and grab my phone.

  I have a text from Derek.

  Oh yes, I forgot about him for a minute.

  It reads: “hey girl, there was a package outside your door this morning so I put it on your counter. Gertie is still a bitch, just thought you might want to know. See you Monday?”

  I reply: “Sweet, thanks buddy, and yes Monday night for sure!”

  The package must be my monthly subscription to MY PEACHY BUSTLE BOX. The only way to order erotica in bulk!

  I sneak out of the house in the early morning fog, desperate for coffee. Mike is waiting out front. My watch reads 7:25am. He’s a prompt fucker indeed. I guess I am too. There is no way in hell anyone other than Jonathan would be able to get me up this early. In college if I had morning classes, they were 9am, no earlier. I blame failing my calculus class on the hour, not the difficulty of the class. That was my first pre-9am learning experience, and my last.

  I hop in the yellow, quiet death trap and nod to Mike. Words can’t even be formed at this hour. All I say is “Coffee. Need.”

  He must have understood me perfectly because his next stop is a drive through coffee house called Java-To-Go. Bless Java-To-Go. I give Mike a twenty.

  “Treat yourself to a pick-me-up, since you’re usually the one to do that. Get it?” I ask, super proud of myself.

  “No,” Mike says.

  “’Cause you’re a cab driver. You pick people up,” I say.

  It was not my best, but I assume that most things are pretty funny in the morning considering our brains are only working at half speed.

  We drink in silence on the drive to Macy’s and the tall Christmas tree in the plaza and the concrete all around. Not many people are out, which I like. Mike says one thing to me as I get out of the cab and pay my fare.

  He says “Be careful ok? I’ll check ya later Emily Hawkins.” And then he drives away.

  That was odd. Be careful?

  I make my way into the building. I guess they open at eight during the Holidays. People should start trickling in at any moment, so let’s get this thing started, I think. I hustle to the elevator to head to the top floor. There is a restaurant up there, but I’m not sure if that’s where Jonathan wants to meet so I sort of look around, wandering for a minute or two. I throw my empty coffee cup in the trash and wonder if I should text him. I am curious, after all, what it is he’s going to say.

  I pull out my phone and just then I hear “Emily?” I turn and I
shit you not, there is Molly, Jonathan’s perfect wife, with all of her beauty. Her typical outfit consisting of a plaid skirt with tights, boots, and a beige sweater. She could probably have been Daphne Blake from Scooby Doo in her past life. I am pretty confused at this point so I just wave one hand in a pathetic motion. We walk towards each other.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask her, not sure what her reaction will be. Last time I saw her it seemed like she hated me. After all she is the wife of the man who wants me as his mistress. Even if they have some crazy, fucked up marriage, it still makes me feel perverted.

  “I’m supposed to meet Jonathan,” she says. “He said he needed to talk with me. What are you doing here? I mean, I actually know the answer to that question.”

  I pause and wait for the answer but she just clings on tighter to her bag and looks me up and down. I can’t help but think that this is some sort of a set up. Jonathan is one sneaky bastard.

  “Look, Molly, I don’t know what you are thinking, but I’m just here because I was asked to come. Believe me, this is the last place I want to be at this hour,” I say as a sort of repentance for walking out during our contract meeting. She must know how difficult this is.

  “No, Emily, you don’t know what I am thinking. You have no idea about anything. But I have one word of advice for you: get out now, while you can.” She pulls her purse up onto her shoulder and turns to walk away just as Jonathan approaches. Molly stops in her tracks. She turns to me and gives me a look as if I am to blame. Like I created this. Like I am setting her up. I am so confused at this point. The plot thickens and I can’t help but think it’s all a dream.

  “Let’s get a table shall we?” Jonathan says without skipping a beat. Without hesitation. And we listen. We head inside, no questions asked. It’s early and no one is shopping yet. Everything just opened, and the employees are still opening up their jewelry cases and scarf boxes in the Macy's. The top floor looks out over Union Square and it’s beautiful.

  We move inside the restaurant and a lady greets us. “Right this way Mr. Clark.”

  She’s expecting us, I think.

  We sit, and it’s all too familiar. Just substitute Mexican food for classy American cuisine.

  “What the fuck is going on Jonathan?” I demand.

  He ignores me and calls over the waitress. “Three mimosas please.” She nods and walks off to fetch us our drinks.

  “No, I don’t want a fucking mimosa, I want to know why Molly is here, and why I am here, and why the hell you’re here?” I am yelling at this point.

  “Sit down Emily.” Jonathan places his hands on the table and sits up. He is wearing a blue sweater which compliments his eyes. His hair is perfect and gelled. He has a watch on his left hand which is silver and I can hear it ticking. He’s a stunning, fucked up man, who is perpetually screwing with my head.

  “Molly, you can tell her now.” Jonathan looks at her and nods and smiles in a friendly way. We are sitting at a square table and the only empty seat is the one between me and Molly. That says something in itself. We are impossibly drawn to this man. Molly puts her purse on the back of her chair and pushes her hair behind her ears.

  “Are you sure Jonathan?” she asks.

  “I am.” Jonathan sits back in his seat and folds his arms and looks over at me. He half smiles.

  The waitress delivers our drinks. She’s so fucking cheerful I just want to punch her! Don’t you realize we are having a serious conversation over here? I want to yell, but I just stare deeper into Jonathan’s eyes, readying myself. I take my mimosa, which I didn’t want, and I chug it. Molly stares at me and waits until I finish.

  “I was just like you once,” she starts.

  “That’s hard to believe Molly.” I respond, but realize I need to just listen and try not to be sarcastic. I put on my good girl hat and sit back.

  “I was. I was introverted and confused and looking for something. I was in college and experimenting and wanting more to life than what I had. Until I met Jonathan.” She pauses and looks over at him and he smiles.

  “But it wasn’t what I expected. He already had a ‘me.’ A Molly. He had two before me actually. It was just something they did.” She takes a sip of her mimosa.

  “Who did?” I’m not following.

  “People like Jonathan. They look for people like us, and when we are done fulfilling our duty, they look for another one. Only with me he made one mistake. He married me. You see, the two women before me were young and wanted to submit. They liked it. They needed it, even. When I was in college, I was a little older, getting my Masters, when Jonathan and I met, and I didn’t fit the prototype.” She leaned in over the table trying to give me some sort of comfort with her eyes. Jonathan just sat there and listened. He was letting her do all of the work.

  “Jonathan has been taking pictures for a long time Emily. He took them of me, and I wasn’t his first. You, Emily, are supposed to be my replacement, but you see he messed up. He messed up with you like he did with me. Well, almost. He fell in love with you. And I need to be let go of. I just can’t do this anymore. Jonathan and I have not been happy for a while and when we saw you, we knew what we needed to do.”

  I am sitting back in my chair now, mouth open. I stare at Molly. “Why didn’t you just leave, Molly?”

  She starts to laugh. I am surprised by her reaction.

  “You don’t just leave, Emily,” she states, like it’s a fact. But I can kind of see what she means. I feel sorry for her but I get it. Jonathan is a magnet. He clings to you, or yet, you cling to him. I don’t know if I could ever get rid of him. So I can sympathize with Molly.

  “What is this?” I ask Jonathan. “Is this an arrangement? Do you want to let Molly go? I’m sort of confused here.” I say this to both of them. Hoping to get more answers.

  Jonathan speaks. “Molly knows she can’t leave unless she finds a replacement. We found you together, but we found you for different reasons, Emily. She wanted a replacement, and I just couldn’t help myself.”

  This is fucking crazy, and I am looking around to see if I am on one of those shows where they hide the camera and someone jumps out of the bushes to surprise you. It would be hilarious right about now if Chelsea Handler and a little midget person came out from behind the counter and said “you’ve won a million dollars!”

  But nothing.

  And here we sit.

  There is a long pause and we are all sipping our drinks. Well, not me because I am an alcoholic and mine is gone. The too-cheerful waitress comes back and asks if I want another.

  I say, “What the hell.” And hand her the glass.

  Finally, after a while, Jonathan leans in and grabs my hands. I look over at Molly to see her expression, but she just looks down. She seems defeated. The beautiful, amazing Molly, who gives no shits. The one I used to want, and want to be like. She is asking me for help. Like an intimate woman to woman moment, which even Jonathan can’t understand.

  “Emily, I want you, and if you are willing to enter into this lifestyle, I promise that you will, in time, realize that it’s what’s right.”

  I pull my hands away and look at Molly. “Molly, what happens if I say no?”

  She looks up at me, deadpan. “I stay, and we try to find someone else. But, you won’t do that, will you Emily? You will say yes, just like I did years ago.”

  I think to myself that she is right. I have been searching for something to bring me to life. I have been looking for my place. It’s not the one I’m living currently, that’s for sure.

  “What happens next?” I ask this specifically to Molly. Jonathan sits back and listens.

  Molly looks at him with a glimmer of hope. She adjusts her seat. “Well, the first thing is you get to decide your identity and where you want to live. Actually, Jonathan decides this too, but you ultimately get to make the boundaries. You need to decide how far you want this to go. Do you want your parents involved? Do you want to start over someplace new? I wanted to sta
rt over, because when I was young, I had a pretty shitty childhood and I wanted out very badly. I wanted the lifestyle. You know, the house, the clothes and the guy. I thought Jonathan could give me that. He works a lot, so I had a lot of time to myself. I decided I wanted to live in New York, around people and the liveliness of the city.”

  I realize that this is the most Molly has ever spoken to me. I wonder why she was such a bitch to me for all of this time, and then it dawns on me. Her bitch-dom was a direct result of her unhappiness. She was burnt out, she was done playing this game. She was tirelessly looking for her replacement. Maybe that is what all of those arguments I would hear between these two love angels were about. The fact that they weren’t love angels at all, but two fucked up people, trying to make it work in…this weird world they had built together.

  I look at Jonathan one last time.

  He catches my eye and holds onto my glare.

  “You won’t regret it.” He states.

  Maybe I won’t. I need to set Molly free. Jonathan needs to set her free. This is more complicated than I could have ever imagined, but I don’t seem to have a choice anymore. I am broken down. He is like my drug.

  “Yes.” I say, looking at Molly.

  Her eyes pool with tears. She mouths to me “thank you.” I smile. I am tangled in a web.

  But I am still the mother fucking black widow, Jonathan.

  I chug my second drink.

  “I have one last question.” I look at Jonathan.

  “Anything.” He replies.

  “How do you know my father?” This time Molly also looks at Jonathan in anticipation. It seems they have their own separate secrets.

  Jonathan clears his throat. “His company hired my firm. And when I found out that he was your father, I pretty much begged for the job. It sounds pathetic, I know, but I needed more than one way in.”