by Lake, C. J.
“I guess I’m not articulating myself well,” Andy qualified, her tone apologetic. “Basically, I’m afraid that being closed off has become a habit for you. Worse than that, actually. I think it’s second nature to you now. You don’t know how to turn it off.”
Emma sucked in a breath, as she came to her feet. “Andy I don’t have a fear of love, okay? Maybe if things were different…but timing is everything,” she continued, resorting to lame clichés now, “and obviously a relationship with Matt wasn’t meant to be.”
“But he’s the only guy you’ve even given a chance to since Connor.” The words settled hard on Emma’s chest. “And he made you happy, I could tell. But now…” Andy’s voice trailed off as the look of sympathy returned.
“Now what? Andy, I’m happy,” she insisted. “I have my sons, I have an offer on my house, and Derek told me that the magazine just acquired Bret Fisk, this award-winning short fiction writer, and I’m going to edit his first piece with us. I couldn’t be more thrilled with life! Can’t you see that?!” she snapped.
At first Emma didn’t notice that Andy was inching back, looking slightly afraid. “All right, we’ll drop it,” she said, patting Emma’s shoulder with blatant appeasement.
“Well, don’t patronize me now,” Emma grumbled quietly.
“I’m not,” Andy replied and put her arm around her. “I just don’t want you to miss out on something because you’re trying to protect yourself. That’s all. But, fine, officially dropping it now.” Just then Andy’s phone rang. “Oh, it’s Tragan,” she chirped as soon as she heard the ring tone, and hurried to her room to answer the call.
When she returned a few minutes later, she said, “Hey, any chance you want to go out on New Year’s Eve? Tragan mentioned going to the Billiard Grill. It’ll be fun.”
Emma shook her head. “No, thanks. New Year’s Eve is when I stay in with Jake and Ben and we do an ice cream sundae bar and they pick a movie. I wouldn’t miss that.”
“Oh, that’s true.” Andy gave a quick shrug, adding, “It’s just as well anyway, now that I think about it, because Matt will probably be there.”
With that, Andy returned her attention to the tinsel bag, while Emma thought about Matt. Without a doubt, Emma would rather be home with her sons on New Year’s Eve than anywhere else. But this year, she also wished Matt could be there with them. Obviously that couldn’t happen. Or she and her sons would only get more attached. Still…
God, she hoped no women hit on him, and that he didn’t kiss another girl at midnight. (Not that it was any of her business.)
Chapter 42
On New Year’s Eve, Matt was home alone, with a study guide opened on his desk. In the margins, he scribbled down possible mnemonic devices that might help him on the next exam. “Exterior Insulation and Finish,” he read to himself. Then thoughtfully jotted down: “Emma is a Fox.” “Rise,” he murmured. Then wrote: “Really intense sex with Emma.” He had to smirk at that one. Hell, it was true and not something he was likely to forget. What was next? “Cant Beam.” After a moment, he scrawled: “Can’t Be with Emma Anymore.” Disgusted, Matt let his pen drop and rose from his chair. This was getting depressing now, and borderline pathetic.
Then there was a knock at the door.
“Hey, man,” Matt said as he let Bardo in. “What are you doing here?”
“Three words for you,” Bardo said, enunciating each one. “New. Year’s. Eve.”
Dismissively, Matt gave a brusque laugh. “Like I said, what are you doing here? I thought you guys were going to the Billiard Grill tonight.”
“We are. Pellican and Tray said they texted you about it.”
“Yeah,” Matt replied with an apathetic nod. “And I told them I’d try to meet up with you guys later.”
“You’d try,” Bardo repeated. “Um, starting when? Because you’re wearing sweats and…” He sniffed the air. “…is that freshly delivered pizza I smell?”
“All right, what’s your point?” Matt said impatiently.
“My point is: if I know one thing, it’s when someone is blowing off plans with me--”
“That’s quite a talent.”
“--and you’re clearly planning to spend New Year’s Eve hibernating in here.” Bardo tsked and emphatically shook his head. “Can’t let you do it, bro. Two reasons. One, I was put in charge of rounding you up.”
“And two…?” Matt said, flopping down on his sofa.
“Two: I might need a wingman. Tragan’s with Andy and I think Janine is meeting us, so that leaves Pellican out. Though, between you and me, he’s not exactly James Bond anyway.” Matt smirked at that, as Bardo pleaded, “C’mon. Don’t be selfish--think of me and my needs.”
It was hard to argue with that twisted logic. So, with resignation, Matt came to his feet. “All right,” he agreed. “Why not? I’ll go change.”
“Cool. And we’re cabbing it so you don’t have to be the designated driver. Isn’t life looking awesome again?” Bardo said brightly.
“Something like that,” Matt mumbled sarcastically on the way to his room. But really--fuck this moody crap. It was enough already. Bardo was right; it was New Year’s Eve and Matt should be out having fun with his friends. Not holed up in his apartment, studying. And not sulking over Emma. Not even thinking about Emma--even better.
~
While Jake and Ben were changing into their pajamas, Emma was in her bedroom, packing a few more items. Lately packing felt like a never-ending work-in-progress. Now she was dividing things into two basic groups: items being shipped to storage for an indefinite amount of time, and items that she needed with her, which were going with her to Connor’s parents’ house. She’d done this division with most of her sons’ possessions already. Among the “must have now” items were Ben’s nightlight and Jake’s magic trick book.
Now she reached up to take the framed photo of Connor that she kept on top of her armoire. She had already laid out a scarf to wrap it in, so it wouldn’t break in transit. Before she bundled it up, though, she climbed onto her bed and sat with for a few moments. Pensively, she looked at the photograph. Studied Connor’s face--ran her fingers lightly over the glass where his eyes were, his mouth--and she sighed. He’d only been twenty-four when he died, and this photo captured him exactly: young, fresh-faced, invincible.
At the thought, her eyes started to burn. Even after all this time. Softly, she said, “Hi, Lemon,” invoking her pet name for him that went all the way back to high school. She wasn’t sure where it came from, maybe because of his blonde hair.
“I miss you,” Emma whispered now, looking earnestly into his blue eyes. “I hope you’re somewhere amazing.” Her nose stung as she added, “I hope you’re somewhere.”
“Mommy--we’re all ready now!” Jake called from downstairs.
“We’re ready for ice cream!” Ben yelled.
Hastily, Emma wiped a tear off each cheek and set the picture frame onto the scarf. Before she covered Connor’s face, she said, “I’m sorry that you died.” She didn’t know why she felt like she had to apologize, but she always did. Several more tears slipped out, as she wrapped the scarf around Connor’s picture and told her sons she was coming.
When Emma rose from the bed, she paused. Debated briefly and decided. She bypassed the pile of items she was taking with her when she moved, and instead carried Connor’s picture to the box marked “Storage.” She laid it carefully inside. Then, quite deliberately, taped the box closed.
~
“Mommy, can I have more toppings?” Ben asked, as he piled colored sprinkles on top of pecans (which sat on top of chocolate chips and coconut). Emma twisted her lips, looking at her son’s concoction with mild disapproval. Ice cream was supposedly buried under there, but she saw no proof of it. Still, it was a special occasion so she wasn’t going to get uptight about it.
“No, just take a cherry,” she told him, walking across the kitchen to get more napkins. “Otherwise you’ll get a stomachache.”
“I love it!” she enthused. “Okay, are you guys ready for the movie now?”
Ben gave a loud yes, while Jake said, “Hey, Mommy? After the movie, can we go on the trampoline?”
Hiding her irritation, Emma replied, “No, sweetie. After the movie is bedtime.”
“Oh,” Jake said, clearly disappointed.
Damn that blabbermouth, Cheryl! Emma thought, annoyed.
Once they were all seated on the sofa, Ben said, “Too bad Aunt Andy can’t be here this year.”
Jake piped up. “Or Matt.”
“Aunt Andy had plans,” Emma said.
“Can Matt come over for ice cream?” Ben said suddenly.
“Um, no. Matt’s…he had plans, too,” she improvised. More disappointed expressions followed. Concerned, Emma said, “Guys…you understand that when we move, we’re not going to see a lot of friends and people who live around here, and that goes for Matt, too.”
“I hate moving,” Jake mumbled.
“Me, too,” Ben said.
“Don’t say that,” Emma coaxed. “It’s going to be a lot of fun, I promise.” Great, now she’d made a promise that she might not be able to keep. “Let’s start the movie,” she said quickly.
As she reached for the remote, Jake said through a spoonful of sundae, “What are Matt’s plans anyways?”
Chapter 43
“Okay, either I’ve massively improved at pool--”
“You haven’t,” Tragan interrupted.
“--or Matt’s seriously off his game tonight,” Bardo finished. Reaching for his beer, he said, “I’d like to think it’s a little of both.”
“It’s not,” Tragan stated, which made Pellican chuckle.
The Billiard Grill was usually packed, but on New Year’s Eve, it was chaotic. Music thumped loudly in every inch of the place; there was an energetic crowd jamming up the horseshoe bar in the center of the room, and a tarp of confetti spread across the ceiling, waiting to drop at midnight.
“What’s up with Winter anyway?” Pellican asked now. “I thought he had something going with Andy’s sister. But she’s not here tonight, is she?”
“No, I think that’s over,” Tragan said, because that’s what he’d heard from Andy--who’d heard it from Emma. But Tragan still didn’t know Matt’s side of things.
“Ohh,” Pellican said with a nod. “Maybe that’s why he’s so glum tonight.”
“Chick problems,” Bardo asserted with a sympathetic shake of his head. “Man…times like this make me glad I don’t have any girls interested in me.”
Just then Andy and Janine returned from the bathroom, shuffling their way through the crowd. Once she reached him, Andy slid her arms around Tragan’s waist. “Want another drink, babe?” he said.
“Yes, please,” she replied and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.
On his way to the bar, Tragan saw Ryan Keller from work. “Hey, what’s up?” he said.
“Tray!” He could tell Ryan was well on his way to drunk. “Wait up! I heard something through the grapevine that you might find interesting.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s about Winter’s truck. You heard it got bricked?”
“Sure. But how did you know?”
Ryan pushed a hand into his spiky hair, slurring his words as he said, “I heard from Jay Malone that Brady White did it.”
“No way,” Tragan said, his eyes narrowing as he felt his temper rise. “Are you shitting me right now?”
“No, I swear! Jay heard it either from Lou or Tom, who heard Brady bragging about it one night down at the Shamrock Bar. I guess he hadn’t planned it; he saw Matt at a traffic light and randomly decided to follow him.” Just then, a big tattooed dude came up to Ryan and reminded him they were supposed to go do shots. Before Ryan left with his friend, he remarked, ironically, “I guess Brady was pissed at Winter for firing his drunk ass.”
As Tragan approached the bar, he was still absorbing the information when he ran into Matt, who’d just bought another bottle of beer. “Hey, man.”
“Hey,” Matt said.
“Listen, I gotta tell you something.”
After Tragan recapped what Ryan had told him, Matt didn’t lose his temper or vow to get revenge. He simply cursed, rubbed his temple and said, “Enh. What’s done is done.”
Tragan blinked at him. “Really? That’s it?”
“What can I say? Obviously the guy’s an asshole--and probably an alcoholic. But the truck’s fixed. It’s paid for; I’m sure Brady wouldn’t have the money to cover the damages even if I could prove it was him.”
With a reluctant nod, Tragan said, “That might be hard anyway. The information is coming second- or third-hand.”
“Enh,” Matt said again, taking a swig of beer. “I just can’t find the interest to pursue it at this point.”
While they were apart from the group anyway, Tragan figured he’d ask Matt what happened with Emma. “So, Andy said you and Emma aren’t hanging out anymore?”
“Nah. That’s done,” Matt stated, and then shrugged. “It’s just as well. The thing was more aggravating than it’s worth.” Tragan figured Matt might say something about Emma having two kids already, or the fact that she was leaving Boston soon. Instead, Matt complained, “She’s stubborn as hell. It’s crazy--she’s seriously the most frustrating girl.” Irritably, he shook his head, before taking another drink. “It’s like: make up your mind already. I can’t deal with the hot-and-cold shit. You know, I got burned once when I was young and stupid--but never again.”
When Matt finished his rant, Tragan hesitated for a second, unsure how to react. “Well, hey, there are plenty of girls here tonight, right?” Tragan commented, figuring it would take Matt’s mind off Emma.
Call it Fate or coincidence, but at that moment, a girl approached them. “Matt?” she said, and both men turned. Fuck, thought Tragan, when he saw who it was.
And back into the fire...
Chapter 44
“So are you here alone tonight?” Keri asked after Tragan stepped away. She was giving Matt a flirtatious kind of smile; he could tell she was tipsy. But then, he was getting slightly buzzed himself.
“I’m here with my friends.”
Keri stood on tiptoe and scanned the crowd, as though searching for his crew. But she did it a little too curiously. Matt was pretty sure she was checking for someone else--like Emma. When she didn’t see her, she smiled even wider. “It’s good seeing you again. It’s so loud in here, it’s hard to hear,” she added, as though explaining why she was inching her body closer.
“Yeah, I’ve been seeing you a lot lately,” Matt observed. “I mean, considering I haven’t seen you for over a year.”
“Matt, I hope you don’t hate me,” Keri said, tilting her head and eying him through her eyelashes.
“I don’t hate anyone,” he remarked easily. “Well, it’s good seeing you--”
“Wait…” Keri reached for him. Matt’s eyes traveled down to where she was holding onto his forearm. She didn’t slide it away under his scrutiny, but that was Keri--she’d always been confident. “I don’t know when I’ll get another chance to talk to you.”
“What do you want to talk about?” Matt asked.
“I’m just going to tell you the truth,” she said, twisting a piece of her long dark hair. “I broke up with Douglas.”
Matt’s tone was neutral. “Okay.”
“And…that’s not exactly the truth. What really happened is: he cheated on me.”
“Really?” Matt said, only mildly surprised.
As Keri nodded, she flipped her hair back and blinked her bright blue eyes with feeling. “Yes, can you believe it? Do you happen to remember my friend, Gabriela? Tall, fake blonde hair?” Matt shook his head. “Well, anyway, that’s who he cheated on m
e with.”
“Damn, that’s rough,” he said. “So what, they’re together now?”
“No. He ended up cheating on her with her friend Rachel. I’ve heard through the grapevine that they’re together now. And you know what? The ironic thing is that I’ve never even liked Rachel! She’s totally shallow and annoying. So, basically, Douglas didn’t even pick a good girl over me,” Keri finished with a deprecating kind of laugh.
Surprisingly, Matt didn’t take any particular satisfaction in Keri’s situation. If this had happened way back, maybe he would feel some sense of vindication. Obviously Douglas had been all flash, no substance, and a prick all along. But now…
Oddly, Matt felt nothing.
Keri edged closer. “Matt, I want you to know that you were the best guy in the world. I didn’t deserve you back then. I just wanted to tell you that.” When he said nothing at first, Keri slid her fingers down his arm and took his hand. “Honestly? I was a complete idiot. I don’t even know why you liked me.” Matt tried not to look skeptical, even though Keri’s humility felt artificial. The way she was looking at him seemed provocative--attracted. But he was buzzed and lonely at the moment, so it was hard to say for sure how far she wanted to take this.
The hell of it was, even if Keri wanted him back--wanted to make up for the past and give their relationship another try--she could never be enough for him now. Looking at her tonight, Matt knew with painful certainty that he could never love her the way he loved Emma.
Of course he could never tell Emma that. You couldn’t even tell her you wanted to come see her in New York without her getting all paranoid.
“Want to dance?” Keri said then.
“Um, I’m not much of a dancer,” Matt said with a gruff laugh. “You know that.”
“No, you had a lot of rhythm,” she maintained. Now she was definitely being suggestive. “I remember.”
When she leaned in closer, Matt hesitated. He could tell that she wanted him--at least for tonight--but probably longer. Especially if she was deliberately spending her New Year’s at the Billiard Grill, a place she’d only ever been to with Matt. She knew he would be here; this was the reconciliation she’d been angling for since first dropping the hints through her friend, Neeta. Come midnight, if Matt was still hanging out with Keri, she would definitely reach up for a kiss if he didn’t lean down first.