by Lake, C. J.
Before she could refer to dyslexia as a “learning disability”--which might not actually be the right term, she wasn’t sure--Matt cut her off. Shaking his head, he immediately waved away her suggestion, stating, “No, I don’t want that. I don’t want to request special arrangements like I have some disability.” (Inwardly, Emma was grateful that Matt had interrupted before she’d accidentally offended him.)
“My dyslexia is not that bad,” he went on. “I got through school without needing all that much help.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but--”
“Emma, look, if I’m going to run my dad’s business, I need to be on point. There’s so much that he does. And so much paperwork to deal with. If I need to make ‘special arrangements’ just to pass the effing exam, then forget it; I’m not cut out for the job.”
“You’re being way too hard on yourself,” she told him.
“No, I’m not,” he stated stubbornly. “I just want to pass the test on my own. I should be able to pass. There’s no excuse.” Actually there is, was Emma’s first thought, but she didn’t bother saying that. She didn’t want to make Matt more defensive; he obviously had a lot of pride about this issue. She just wished there was a way she could help. “Anyway, there’s supposed to be another test coming up in the spring, so I’ll just try again. Want dessert?” he said, abruptly diverting the subject off of himself.
She shook her head, and then took his outstretched hand when he stood. As he tugged her up from the booth, he also pulled her in for a kiss. As his lips brushed over hers, Emma slid a hand onto his cheek and kissed him tenderly in return.
When they pulled apart, Matt was gazing down at her. “Hey,” he said suddenly, breaking the romantic trance that was beginning to befall them, despite the public setting. “I forgot one important part of the arcade experience. C’mon.”
They bypassed riotous pinball machines, mechanical chairs with steering wheels, and a row of basketball nets before they reached a giant photo booth. “Oh, no…” Emma groaned, shutting her eyes.
“Oh, yes.”
“Really, a spontaneous photo strip?” Emma said--at first, dreading the idea, but then realizing how stodgy she sounded.
“I want a photo with my girl,” Matt said simply as he slid tickets into the machine. And just like that…in some warm place in her heart, she felt a surge of adolescent excitement. Damn it, she didn’t want to feel this way. She was getting lost in him. Matt was making her forget that she wasn’t actually a carefree soul who could afford to be recklessly romantic.
At the same time, she was too relaxed tonight to fight this contented feeling.
Emma snatched up the photo strip as soon as they were done, prepared to laugh, but then couldn’t bring herself to make fun of it. Instead, her breath caught for a moment as she looked at the photos--four in total, two with them kissing, two smiling--and she thought how perfect she and Matt looked together. Happy.
On their way to his truck, Matt put his arm around her and pulled her against him to warm her up. Over the hum of the icy wind, he said, “Well? Tell me: on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate our date?”
“The best,” was all Emma said with a sigh--and proceeded to lean against his shoulder the whole ride home.
Chapter 34
On their way up Emma’s walkway, Cheryl came scurrying over from next door, wearing a snow hat that barely contained her blonde and silver curls. “Emma!” she called, clutching her coat tightly as the wind picked up.
“Hi, Cheryl,” Emma said, smiling. “Is everything okay?”
“Just that I got some mail of yours,” she replied, pulling out an envelope. “Put in my box by mistake. That happens sometimes.”
“Thanks, I didn’t realize that.” Though it probably explained why she’d never gotten the notice the school had sent about the bake sale.
“Also, I wanted to let you know that Ed and I got a trampoline for our grandkids. It’s in our garage. Any time your boys want to come play on it, just come on by!”
“That’s so kind, thank you,” Emma said politely, even though in her mind she was vetoing the idea, big-time. She wasn’t going to let her sons play on a trampoline unsupervised, and even if Emma had extra leisure time these days, she sure didn’t feel like squandering it in Cheryl’s freezing-cold garage. Since Cheryl seemed so excited about the idea, though, Emma didn’t want to offend her by turning her down cold.
“Sure thing. Jake and Ben will love it!” Cheryl went on. “You have the sweetest little boys. Next time I see them, I’ll mention it to them.”
“Uh, no, that’s okay,” Emma said quickly, pasting on a smile. She felt a little awkward blurting that, but she didn’t want Cheryl putting the notion in Emma’s sons’ heads to try to go over and test out the trampoline. It wasn’t Ben she was worried about, who was still, more or less, her sidekick. Jake, on the other hand, was seven now and becoming more willful and independent. “I’ll let them know about it,” Emma lied.
“And I want to thank you for letting me stay at your house for a while the other night,” Cheryl added. “It was just so anxiety-producing, what with the vandalism and Ed out of town.”
“No problem,” Emma assured her.
“I see you got your truck fixed,” Cheryl mentioned to Matt. He nodded graciously at that, but didn’t elaborate. “Well, I’m freezing my rear off out here. Goodnight now!”
Only after they stepped inside Emma’s house did Matt remark, “Not sure if you want my opinion, but…that trampoline idea sounds kind of dangerous.”
“Yes, that’s what I was thinking!” Emma said, touching his arm. “So we’re on the same page. You don’t think I’m being too uptight then?”
“No way. I mean, what if they bounce off the thing and land on a rake or something. It’s not like it’s in a big open field.”
“Unh, I’m relieved you agree with me,” she said. “I hate to be overprotective, but…”
“You’ve got to be,” Matt supplied.
“Exactly,” Emma said, thinking that protecting them physically was only part of her job. She had to look after their emotions, too. No matter what, she couldn’t let them get hurt.
~
“Good morning,” Emma said when Matt shuffled into the kitchen the next day looking adorably scruffy.
“Hi, beautiful,” he said crossing over to the table and kissing her on the cheek. “What are you doing? Work stuff?” he asked when he saw her open laptop.
“Actually, I’ve been up doing some research.”
“Yeah?” he said on his way to the coffee maker.
Excitedly, she turned around in her chair. “Yes--I think I know how you’re going to pass that Contractor Exam.”
Matt ambled back to the table as Emma nudged out the chair next to hers with her foot. “Sit,” she told him. “This is what I’m thinking. So I’ve read a lot online about mnemonic devices helping people with dyslexia.”
Stubbornly, Matt shook his head, already ready to shoot down the idea. “No, I know all about that. I used to use those in school. But I’ve tried that. The test is too long; the mnemonic tricks don’t work for me with this exam.”
“I understand,” Emma said patiently, seeing Matt’s shoulders tense up at this subject. “Matt, just hear me out. What I’ve been reading is that dyslexic triggers are much worse with stress--and obviously you’re putting yourself under tremendous pressure to pass the exam. You say mnemonic devices helped you in school, but in school you probably didn’t put this much stress on yourself to succeed.
“Also, according to an article I was reading, the more personal the mnemonic device, the more effective. What kinds of phrases or acronyms have you come up with in the past?”
Confused, Matt replied, “I have no idea; I can’t remember.”
“Exactly,” Emma said. “That’s the point. We just have to find the right mnemonic devices--the phrases and words that trigger such a strong personal feeling, you won’t forget them. Also, we need
to find an image that instantly cues your mind to de-stress. For some people it’s an image in a home magazine, for others it might be a tropical shore. Whatever it is--it just has to be something that immediately triggers a calming effect in your brain. Once we figure out what that image is, you’ll bring it with you to the test. Okay?”
Thoughtfully, Matt inhaled and breathed out a sigh. “I don’t know. I appreciate you trying to help, but I feel like I’ve tried--”
“And that’s another thing,” Emma pointed out, reluctantly interrupting him. “You’re too independent.”
He gave a short laugh at that. “Really? That’s a bad thing?”
“No, but it’s just inconvenient when I’m trying to help you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you’ve tried to prepare--on your own. I would bet anything that you haven’t asked a soul for help on this. Face it, Matt: you’re stubborn.”
“Look,” he said with a sigh, running a hand over his scratchy jaw, “I’m not going to bother someone with my crap.”
“But without the benefit of another person’s input, you lessen your chance of success. You need someone to help you work on these strategies. Someone to do drills with you using online practice exams. Most importantly: someone who knows you well enough to brainstorm ways to tailor the standard mnemonic tricks to your situation. One thing I keep reading online is how dyslexia affects people so differently across the board. There’s no one solution or technique that’s going to work for everyone; you have to experiment. Let me help! I really think if we work together, we could figure out what mental triggers are going to work best for you.”
When Matt remained quiet, Emma set her hand on his knee. “You said you have another test coming up in the spring. I could help you prepare.”
“You won’t be here in the spring,” Matt remarked.
“Okay, but we have a couple more weeks until I leave. And we can still email when I’m in New York--I mean as friends, just about the test stuff,” she clarified quickly, not wanting Matt to think she was now trying to force a serious long-distance relationship out of their “fling.”
“I wish you weren’t leaving,” he blurted, and her heart squeezed in her chest.
“But I am. I am leaving, Matt,” Emma said, not meaning to be overly emphatic. She supposed she was partly reminding herself. “We knew this going in, right?”
“I suppose.”
“So let’s just enjoy the moment.” Wasn’t that what casual, laidback types did? Emma thought, as she tried her best to emulate people like that. She slid off her chair and went to the coffee maker for a refill.
“Ah, so that’s your idea of enjoying the moment?” Matt said with a laugh as he followed her. Then he took her arm and turned her towards him. “Helping me prepare for a long, boring exam that’s four months away?”
“Yes,” Emma declared, looking into his eyes with determination. “That’s my idea of a good time, so deal with it.” Matt laughed then, and encircled her in a tight hug. I’ll miss you, a voice in her mind said as Emma hugged him back and tears came to the surface of her eyes. Willfully and with great effort, she blinked them back.
Chapter 35
“You didn’t tell Mom about Matt and me, did you?” Emma asked, as she tucked her cell phone into her shoulder and gathered some road trip essentials. Granola bar, bagel with peanut butter, travel mug of Columbian coffee. She’d filled up her gas tank earlier so she could head straight onto the highway, and she was beyond ready to go pick up her sons.
“No, of course not,” Andy said, “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh, good.”
Andy joked, “Why, are you afraid the idea of two blue-collar sons-in-law might send her over the edge?”
“Don’t even joke about that,” Emma warned.
“Actually, I’m being unfair. Having Tragan in our lives has made Mom much less of a snob these days,” Andy noted.
“I mean don’t joke about me getting married.”
“Oh, sorry. So…what will happen with you and Matt when you go?”
Uncomfortably, Emma shrugged, as she stuffed an extra charger in her bag. “Nothing,” she said, zipping it closed. “He’ll go on doing whatever he was doing before he met me. We’ll probably stay in touch as friends, you know, over email.”
Andy sounded tentative when she asked, “Don’t you think you guys might continue to see each other?”
“I don’t see how,” Emma said simply.
“What do you mean you don’t see how?” Andy questioned. “People have long distance relationships all the time.”
Suppressing a sigh, Emma replied, “Well, I can’t speak for what ‘people’ do; I only know what’s realistic for me. I’ve been with my sons practically every single night of their lives. I’m not going to stick them with some babysitter now, so I can go off and visit a guy for the weekend. Sorry, that’s not me.”
“Right, I see that, but it’s not like it would be ‘some babysitter.’ It would be their grandparents,” Andy pointed out, referring to Connor’s mom and dad.
“Ha!” Emma said cynically. “I’m sure that’ll go over real well--when I tell Dina about my pressing plans for the weekend.”
Sighing into the phone, Andy admitted, “Fine, maybe the idea of you visiting Matt isn’t that realistic. But he could visit you. You said Jake and Ben like him--”
“I’m sure that would get old fast,” Emma interrupted, rolling her eyes to no one. “Matt works a physically demanding job all week. How often do you think he’s going to shove a ten-hour road trip into his weekend? Come on.”
“There are flights…” Andy mumbled quietly, and Emma decided to put an end to this discussion.
“Enough,” she said. “Look, I’ve already laid out for you the logistical issues here. Not to mention, it would be confusing for Jake and Ben if Matt came every once in a while, and then stopped coming altogether. I can’t do that to them.” Before her sister could say anything, Emma pressed on, “Andy, I may be very rusty with man-woman stuff, but even I know not to confuse sex with love. Matt’s a fun guy and I like him, but not every relationship is built to last. You should know that--look at you and Brad. Sometimes something is just what it is.”
~
On her drive to New York, Emma received a call from Dina that, for an irrational moment, made her contemplate tossing her Bluetooth out the window.
“What time will you be here?” Dina had asked.
“I’m about an hour away now.”
“Great! Because I found a copy of your wedding video!” Dina nearly squealed. If Emma wasn’t driving, she would have closed her eyes and prayed for patience. Instead, she opted for a more immature option: rolling her eyes dramatically. It wasn’t that Dina was doing anything wrong. That was the most frustrating part. Emma shouldn’t feel annoyed whenever Dina raised Connor from the dead, because he was her only child. As a mom, Emma understood why she needed to do it. It was just…
God, it was so damn hard to listen to sometimes. Still, Dina prattled on cluelessly. “And I mean the full, extended version. Not just the ceremony! You know, all the girls getting ready in their dresses and…” Emma tried to tune her out, as rude as that was, because remembering her wedding day and how hopeful she and Connor had been never seemed to make her as happy as it made her in-laws.
Finally she tuned back in when she heard Dina say, “So I wanted to show it to the boys, but we’ll wait till you get here. Then we can all watch it together.”
“I, uh…I don’t know if I want to show the boys that video today,” Emma told Dina, then feeling the need to assuage her, offered lamely, “I can take it with us, though…”
“I don’t understand,” Dina persisted. “Why can’t Jake and Ben see the video? They were too young before, but surely now they’re old enough to appreciate it.”
“Because…” Emma struggled to find the words to explain. “Now is not the time. They’re excited about Christmas and I just want them to f
eel happy right now.”
“Seeing a video of their father will make them even happier,” Dina asserted. “And they can see how happy you two were! How much you loved each other and were excited for Jake to be born.”
The tip of Emma’s nose burned. No, she couldn’t let herself get emotional right now. She made an effort to keep her voice even and calm. “I’ve shown them a video of Connor before. He’d made a short video to us the first time he was sent overseas.”
Dina urged, “But this is his wedding; Jake and Ben should see that.”
“That video is too long and…” Emma’s voice broke off as she thought angrily: And I don’t want to watch it. I don’t want to think about how Connor was taken away from us. I don’t want to cry in front of them. I don’t want to think about how painful love has been. Regrettably, when she spoke again, her tone was a bit sharp. “Dina, I will show the boys the wedding video when I’m ready to show it. When I feel that they’re ready to watch it.” Uncomfortably, she cleared her throat. “As I said, we’ll take it with us.”
A long, tense silence followed, before Dina responded.
“I see,” she said tightly.
Inhaling a shaky breath, Emma fibbed, “Well, I’m coming up to a toll now, so I’m going to get going. I’ll see you soon.”
“Right. Bye.”
Well, that had gone horribly. Before Emma could soothe her frayed nerves, her phone rang again.
“Hey, it’s me,” Matt said, his deep voice like a thick warm blanket wrapping around her.
She sighed. “Hi.”
“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. Just…frustrated.”
“Road rage?”
With a mirthless smile, she said, “Something like that.”
“Listen, I forgot to mention earlier, but I noticed that your laundry room is freezing.”
“I know,” Emma replied.
“And there’s some water damage on the window sill,” Matt went on. “I’d like to put in a storm window.”