A Forever Family

by Jamie Sobrato

  “I’m…” She didn’t often stop to analyze how she was doing. “I’m doing okay.”

  That was true enough. She buried herself in work and in caring for Max. She distracted herself, which she believed was mostly a healthy thing. Except when, occasionally in bed at night, she realized her life looked nothing like she’d wanted it to. All her fairy-tale dreams that she’d spun for Aidan then transferred to Steven had come crashing down around her, like so much fake scenery on a movie set.

  “You look like you’re more than okay,” he said. “You look like you’re having the time of your life.”

  Emmy smiled. She was feeling a little fuzzy-headed now that most of her beer was gone. She really was having the time of her life, in spite of circumstances turning out differently than she’d hoped. Here she was in one of her favorite places in the world, with her healthy, happy son and this gorgeous, funny guy to talk to.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I am.”

  The way he looked at her then, she got the very distinct feeling that he wanted to have sex with her, and a delicious tingling sensation shot through her. She gazed at the lake and tried to imagine them making love.

  Instead, the image of herself with Aidan formed.

  Silently, she cursed herself. Maybe she was self-destructive and bound for unhappiness, when her heart and mind could turn down someone easy and uncomplicated like Devan in favor of fantasies about the most mentally unstable man she knew.

  “Hey,” Devan said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something about that family house of yours.”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “I heard it’s haunted. You ever have anything strange happen there?”

  Emmy thought of the teacup. And the buried chest, and her missing journal that had been in it.

  “Yeah, actually, I have seen a few odd things, but nothing big. Just stuff moved around to places it shouldn’t be.”

  “You mean now, or when you were a kid?”

  “In the past few weeks since I’ve been here. I honestly never saw anything strange as a kid.”

  “Maybe the ghost didn’t want to scare you back then?”

  Emmy shrugged. “Max has noticed stuff, but he’s also not afraid. Who knows? I’m a bit skeptical of the whole thing, to tell you the truth.”

  “You think Max is playing tricks on you?”

  Emmy mulled that over. Was it possible Max had found stuff around the property and buried it in a chest where he knew it would get dug up? He was smart enough to pull something like that off, just to perpetuate his whole pirate story.

  Still, the collection of stuff in the chest had been so oddly intimate. It hadn’t been stuff a little boy would think of as interesting.

  She set the thoughts aside to puzzle over more later.

  “It’s certainly possible,” she said to Devan. “He can be quite the story-teller.”

  Their pizza arrived, and they called the kids over to eat. As Emmy watched Devan dole out pizza slices to everyone, joking with the kids as he did so, she tried again to imagine him as a bigger part of her life—a more intimate part.

  Maybe even a father to Max someday…

  No. Such far-flung thoughts were only a set-up for disappointment. But the intimacy part, she had a feeling that could be right at her fingertips, if she wanted it to be.

  But…

  Nothing.

  She couldn’t make herself want Devan. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Or maybe she was too screwed up to want something good and healthy in her life.

  Or maybe her heart only wanted someone else entirely, someone it shouldn’t want.

  EMMY TUCKED MAX into bed in record time. He’d been so worn out by the festival, he hadn’t even wanted to have story time, which was a first, as far as Emmy could remember.

  She’d been relieved to see Aidan’s motorcycle in the driveway upon returning home. Before leaving town, she’d stopped at the store to buy coffee for him, unsure whether he’d done so himself. With Max sound asleep, Emmy left the cottage door open so she could hear him through the screen door if he woke, then crossed the lawn to deliver the coffee.

  She had to knock three times before he finally came to the door. He looked haggard and grouchy, his eyes accented by dark circles, his long hair disheveled.

  “Sorry, did I wake you?”

  “No.”

  “I brought the coffee you asked for.”

  “Oh. Thanks.” He looked down at it, then up at her, but made no move to take the bag from her hands.

  “Is that why you came to town, to buy coffee?”

  “Yeah. I couldn’t wait.”

  Emmy smiled, hoping to lighten his mood a bit. “Hey, whatever gets you out of the house, right?”

  “I guess.”

  “Was it okay? Driving and being in town, I mean? I was worried about you.”

  “I made it home without killing anyone.”

  “Are you upset at me?”

  “Of course not,” he said, his tone full of vitriol. “What would I have to be upset at you about?”

  “I don’t know,” Emmy said, searching her gut for the best way to handle the situation. “You seemed disturbed to see me with Devan. Maybe you were hoping that you and I would eventually…I don’t know, get back together?”

  “I’m not stupid, Emmy,” he said.

  He spoke her name as if it were a curse.

  “I’m not suggesting that you are. I mean, it’s just natural that, since you and I share a past, and our feelings for each other were so…intense…It’s natural there might be some residual feelings for both of us, isn’t it?”

  “Not for you. You’re ready to move on and get a fresh start and maybe nail a younger guy while you’re at it, huh? Wouldn’t that be the perfect post-divorce celebration?”

  She flinched as if he’d slapped her. “Devan is just a friend,” she said. “And you’re being an asshole to suggest anything at all about my personal life. You don’t know me anymore.”

  “Don’t I?”

  “No.”

  She wanted to throw the bag of coffee at his feet and storm away, but if marriage had taught her anything, it was that storming off didn’t accomplish anything but a prolonged argument. She would stand here until this issue with Aidan was resolved.

  “Let me tell you how well I know you. You dress in a hot little red bikini and frolic around here like you don’t have a care in the world, which tells me you’re a woman who feels confident, sexual, free…ready for action. You want male attention right now, or you’d have never put on that bikini, or that dress you’re wearing today, for that matter.”

  Emmy felt her face burning. She was wearing her favorite summer dress, a white cotton prairie dress that made her feel young and pretty and carefree. And Aidan had just splashed mud all over it. She hated that he’d read her so easily, understanding her every desire right down to a red bikini.

  Her only recourse was to deny, deny, deny.

  “Sounds like you’re projecting the life you want to have onto me,” she said.

  “I definitely don’t want to prance around the lake in a glorified doily.”

  She hated him. She hated his guts. She’d been so proud of that bikini and of how good she looked in it, and he’d managed to piss all over that simple happiness.

  “No, that’s right. You just want to sit in your cabin all alone and go crazy. Of course. I forgot. You’re a freaking lunatic.”

  And with that, she couldn’t control her temper anymore. She really did throw the coffee on the ground—as hard as she could. The bag burst open, and coffee beans scattered everywhere, making little skittering noises across the wood steps.

  She stormed toward the cottage, when she heard Aidan say, “I’m sorry. Please stop.”

  He was going to have to try harder than that.

  “Emmy, wait!” She could hear his footsteps behind her, then she felt his hand grasp her arm.

  She stopped but didn’t turn to him.

  “I’m being a
jealous asshole. You’re right. I’m jealous, and I wish I could be as happy as you are.”

  She thought of the events that had led him to this miserable place, and she instantly forgave him. She’d never risked her life in a foreign land to save anyone. She’d never been captured, held prisoner, tortured and escaped. She’d never watched friends or strangers die bloody deaths.

  Her own little dramas seemed so minor in comparison. She couldn’t hold it against him that she was happy and he was not.

  Emmy turned and regarded at him carefully. “Thank you for the apology,” she said. “Since we’re going to have to live in such close proximity for a while, maybe we should try to be friends.”

  She knew she was blatantly ignoring the elephant under the rug—their feelings for each other—but she wasn’t ready to face that yet.

  “Yeah,” he said. “That’s probably a good idea, except I don’t really want to be friends with you.”

  “What?”

  Why did he have to make this so difficult?

  “Maybe a therapist would say I’m trying to hide from my trauma by looking for a romantic relationship, ” he said sarcastically. “But that’s not what I’m doing.”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  “I’m remembering how I felt about you in college, and I’m discovering that I still have some of those same feelings. And I’m thinking we both might be mature enough this time around to get things right. So I want to spend time with you and see what happens.”

  “Those feelings…have to be laid to rest.”

  What she didn’t say was why. She didn’t explain how she felt like an emotional refugee since her divorce, how the only relationships she could even begin to contemplate having right now were simple, easy ones. And there wasn’t anything simple or easy about the love she’d shared with Aidan.

  She didn’t tell him that surviving a divorce had turned her into a coward, or that taking care of her son alone and keeping their lives on track took so much energy, she wasn’t sure she really had any to spare for anyone else.

  And she didn’t tell him how she equated her feelings for him with her immature, selfish, bratty former self, the one she’d left behind, and how, now that Max’s dad had flaked out on him, she had to be twice the mature, solid, rock of a parent she had been so far. She couldn’t afford to go anywhere near the dumb girl who’d loved Aidan so passionately.

  But maybe she should have.

  His eyes, which had looked warm a second ago, went utterly dead and cold. “Right,” he said in a tight voice.

  Then he turned and walked away.

  Emmy watched his back as he went. She didn’t stop him, and she knew it was for the best. Still, she wanted to throw up, it hurt so badly watching him leave her. Why was the right thing so often the hardest thing to do?

  CHAPTER NINE

  I’d never killed a man before the night of our escape. As a soldier, I’d practiced, trained, prepared. But the ugly act, I’d never had the misfortune of performing, and I was glad of it. I’d hoped to go my whole life without enacting such violence on another human being.

  From Through a Soldier’s Eyes

  by Aidan Caldwell

  FOR THE FIRST TIME in what seemed like forever, Emmy had a night alone without Max. She should have been enjoying the freedom, but she felt restless. Max had a new best friend at day camp, a boy named Jordan, and they were having a sleepover together. Emmy had looked forward to the evening, imagining herself reading a book or watching a movie, or maybe going for a jog around the lake.

  Instead, she was flitting around restlessly, doing stupid chores—paying bills, cleaning the bathroom—unable to focus on anything fun. She’d turned up the portable stereo to listen to while she worked, singing along to Joni Mitchell and whatever else the local hippie station chose to play, and the noise of it almost drowned out her thoughts.

  In the couple of weeks following the Promise Festival, Emmy and Max’s life at the lake had settled into a comfortable rhythm—albeit a hectic one for Emmy.

  The foundation of the house was nearly complete, and soon they’d be ready to erect the cabin itself. She’d enrolled Max in summer camp, which gave her time to focus on work during the day, and he was loving the chance to play with other kids every day.

  She was doing her best to avoid Aidan at all costs, because she didn’t see anything positive that could come from further interaction with him after the way he’d behaved the day of the festival.

  Devan had called her, but she’d made excuses for being too busy to get together, and he seemed to have gotten the message that she wasn’t interested in his pursuit.

  And she was furious at herself for not being interested. Why was it when a healthy, fun, romantic opportunity came along, she couldn’t enjoy it? Instead, she was choosing to be alone. Maybe that was the healthiest choice she could make for herself right now…Except that her body hated the idea.

  It reminded her every day that she was a redblooded woman with physical needs and desires. And, well, her heart seemed to be protesting the matter, too, because every time she glanced at Aidan’s cabin, she was struck by an almost overwhelming feeling of loneliness and desire.

  As she was in the middle of rinsing the tub with the removable shower head, the lights went out and the music stopped. Emmy turned off the water and went into the other room. Lights off there, too. No sound coming from the refrigerator. No clock on the microwave oven.

  Must be a power outage. But when she went to the door and looked at the cabin, she saw the lights glowing inside it against the quickly darkening night.

  So Aidan had power, and she didn’t. How could that be?

  For a moment she thought of the chest, of the moving teacup, of her great-aunt Leticia’s ghost, and she rolled her eyes at herself.

  She wasn’t about to get spooked by one of Max’s stories, but she did glance at the chest, and she got a sick feeling in her stomach over its contents. She didn’t want to look at the journal. And she didn’t want to look at her great-aunt’s letters, either. Both contained sentiments that belonged to other people and weren’t meant for her jaded eyes. Even though she’d written some of the journal entries, she wasn’t that foolish girl anymore. She didn’t have that girl’s feelings.

  At least that’s what she kept telling herself. So she continued to avoid the chest and pretended it wasn’t there.

  Emmy went outside to find the fuse box. Maybe she’d managed to blow a circuit somehow. But there was no box outside, and upon further inspection she found that there wasn’t one inside either. Which meant that the one inside the main cabin controlled the electricity here in the guest cottage.

  Which meant that Aidan had cut off her power. She went to the cabin and banged on the door. “Open up,” she yelled at Aidan.

  She was about to bang again when the door swung open. He stood looking at her without any emotion on his face. “What?” he said blankly.

  “Did you just shut off the electricity to the cottage?”

  “I needed quiet, it’s too hot to close the windows, and you have terrible taste in music,” he said as if that were a perfectly reasonable explanation.

  “You are such an asshole,” she spat before she could find any good manners to use.

  “We can both agree on that. Are you done? Because I’m still in the middle of working.”

  “I don’t give a damn about your stupid book, or about when you work, or how much quiet you need. This is my family’s property, and you’re lucky I’ve even let you stay here all this time. The least you could do is cooperate with me. I have just as much right as you to live here.”

  “I’m not interfering with you living your life, am I?”

  “Turn my goddamn power back on.”

  Aidan blinked, seeming unfazed by anything she’d said. He started to close the door, and Emmy felt her fury boil over. She couldn’t stand to be dismissed.

  She had a flash of momentary mental clarity, a realization that she wasn’t mad
about the power at all. She was mad at Aidan for being here, for forcing her to face her past, for forcing her to consider how far she’d come, and how far she hadn’t.

  She put her hands against the panel and pushed hard, then inserted herself inside the cabin, ready to grab Aidan’s computer and hurl it out the window to see how well he liked having his work ruined.

  “If you’re going to come in my bedroom, I’m not responsible for what happens next,” he said quietly.

  “What? Are you threatening me, you cowardly son of a bitch?” She was so furious, the angry words poured out.

  “No, I’m just saying. Every time you’ve ever gotten this spitting mad at me, we’ve ended up in bed.”

  Emmy felt herself flush. She thought of their relationship all those years ago, and how they used to manufacture fights so they could have the make-up sex afterward. It had always been spectacular.

  Was that what he was doing now? Did he know Max was gone for the night?

  Was this just another way they’d never changed?

  “I’m not young and stupid anymore,” she said. “I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on earth.”

  “Oh?”

  For the first time, a slow smile spread across his lips, and it made Emmy even madder. How dare he make light of the fact that she was angry?

  She wanted to hit him over the head with a lamp, or throw a shoe at him, or, or…Or strip all his clothes off and make crazy-mad love to him until they were both drenched in sweat and satiated.

  She wanted Aidan.

  She desperately wanted him.

  Right now.

  The realization struck her like thunder. She was furious that he still had the same effect on her that he’d always had. She couldn’t help but want him.

  And he could read her thoughts on her face, the way he’d always been able to, a quality that had given him an edge over other guys.

  He closed the distance between them, his expression serious again. He looked determined, like nothing was going to distract him from the task at hand. And it was true, she didn’t stop him as he took the waist of her shirt in his hands and pulled it over her head.