by Claire Adams
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 asked, 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.
“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 humiliation 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.
“Let’s stop and grab steaks,” I suggested. “I’ll fire up the grill, and we can put some potatoes in the oven. What do you say?”
“Dad, we just at lunch two hours ago,” Nina sighed. “I’m not hungry.”
“I know, but in an hour or two, you’re going to be whining that you’re starving and then you’ll tell your mother that I never feed you,” I said dryly.
“True dat,” Nina agreed. “Okay, steak and potatoes! You want to call Emily and invite her over for dinner?”
“She’s busy tonight,” I said, tersely cutting off any further conversation. Wisely, Nina remained silent on the issue.
As usual, I was right, and by the time I’d grilled the steaks and baked the potatoes, Nina was hanging around the kitchen telling me she was starving. I laughed as I piled the steaks on a platter and pulled the steaming potatoes out of the oven and tossed them in a bowl.
“Damn, Dad, you’re the master griller!” Nina grinned, as she cut into her steak. “Emily’s gonna be sorry she missed this.”
“No doubt,” I said, as I shoved a piece of meat into my mouth to avoid having to say more. Once I’d chewed and swallowed, I said, “So, school starts again next week, eh?”
“Yeah, I’m feeling optimistic about my grades, though,” Nina replied.
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, as she scooped sour cream out of the plastic container and dumped it on her potato. “Maybe it was the trip to the museum that made me think about all the things I could be doing if I got good grades. Or maybe I’m just growing up.”
“Perish the thought,” I said, rolling my eyes the way she did. Nina laughed loudly as she dug her fork into her potato.
We spent the rest of the meal talking about what we planned to do over the next several weekends, and Nina reminded me that she was going to be staying with me when Remy went to Europe in the spring. I made a mental note to get a copy of Remy’s life insurance papers just in case.
After dinner, we cleaned up and halfheartedly watched a crappy movie on TBS before Nina announced she was heading to bed. I heard her getting ready, and once I was sure she was tucked in, I peeked into her room.
“Night, Punkin,” I said. “You know I love you, don’t you?”
“I do,” she smiled, as she looked up from the book she had propped on her knees. “I love you, too, Dad, but you know, whatever is wrong between you and Emily, you need to fix it. Seriously, dude. She’s good for you.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind,” I nodded, as I backed out into the hallway, pulling her door shut.
Once in bed, I reached over and grabbed my phone off the nightstand. I held it as I thought about Emily and about how nice it was to have her around. And how much nicer it was to have her in my bed.
I looked at the blank screen on the phone and then reached over and set it on the charger before I turned out the light.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Emily
For the first time in several weeks, the alarm went off at 6, and I groaned as I hit the snooze button. It was time to go back to school, and while I was looking forward to seeing my students and hearing about their vacations, there was an air of sadness and loss hanging over the new year.
I hadn’t heard from Blake or my parents since the day I ordered them all out. Over the years, I’d learned to live with the distance between me and my parents, but Blake’s absence brought about a whole new feeling of loneliness. I sighed as I ran a hand over Howard’s fuzzy back, then reluctantly threw back the covers and prepared to face the day.
The phone rang as I poured my first cup of coffee. I checked the screen and then quickly answered.
“KO! How are you doing?”
“I’m all right,” she said unenthusiastically.
“What’s the matter?”
“Em, I need a favor,” she said hesitantly.
“What’s going on?” I asked, worried that there was something terrible lurking.
“I hate to ask, but Pop needs me to stay and help out, so I was wondering if you could stay at the house for a little while longer,” she said, exhaling on the other end. I could feel the stress flowing through the phone line.
“Yeah, of course,” I said. “Are you sure that’s it?”
“Nah, it’s all the family stuff, but you know how that goes,” she said, deflecting the question. “How’s lover boy?”
“No idea,” I said without further comment.
“What the hell happened?” KO demanded. “I thought you two were having hot sex and heading in the right direction!”
“Charlotte and William happened,” I said, knowing that KO would immediately understand. “It was a mess, and I yelled at all of them. I haven’t heard anything from Blake since.”
“Why don’t you call him?” she asked. “Explain the fact that you are the only normal person to come out of a family of passive/aggressive abusers. I’m sure he’ll totally understand!”
“You’re kidding, right?” I laughed. “Not a chance in hell I’m calling after he met my nightmare.”
“I don’t get it,” KO said. “Why?”
“His family is totally normal!” I cried. “My family is beyond fucked up. No good can come of it now that he’s seen that nightmare. Just forget it.”
“I think you’re wrong, but hey, you know best,” she said, with the verbal equivalent of a shrug.
“Look, I’ll stay here, but you’re going to have to let me pay the mortgage or something,” I said, changing the subject abruptly.
“You can pay the utilities,” KO said tersely. “I’ve got the mortgage and insurance taken care of.”
“Then at least let me buy you some furniture or something,” I said. “This place is like a Spartan training facility.”
“I like living in an uncluttered home,” she said.
“A couch? A chair? Something?” I pushed. I knew she wanted a little more than she had, but, like me, she was too proud to accept help. “I mean, I’ll buy it, and if you hate it, I’ll take it with me when I move out. How does that sound?”
“Fine, I guess I can’t stop you, can I?” she chuckled on the other end. “Do what you will.”
“I miss you, my friend,” I said, suddenly feeling very alone.
“Yeah, I miss you, too,” she said quietly. “It’s hard being away from my real life. It’s just…hard.”
“When do you think you’ll be back?”
“No idea,” she said. “Pop needs help, and I’ll stay until he doesn’t.”
“All right, well, call if you need anything,” I said. I could hear KO’s grandfather calling for her on the other end.
“I gotta go,” she said. “Talk soon, chick!”
After she’d disconnected, I stood staring at the phone for a few minutes, thinking about what she’d said about calling Blake. I pulled up his number and started at it before powering down the phone and taking my coffee to the bathroom so I could shower and get ready for my first day back.