The After of Us (Judge Me Not Spin-off)

by S. R. Grey

  “It really is adorable,” Emma says. Her own eyes are now fixed to the wall. “I admire it every time I come into the school.” She places a finger on her lips, contemplative-like. “For some reason, though, I always thought Chase painted the mural by himself. I guess since he’s touched it up a few times over the years.”

  The colors appear to be a bit faded, so I say, “Looks like it could use some re-touching again.”

  “Yeah,” Emma says on a sigh. “Chase hasn’t done anything with it for a long while.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s been really busy with work,” I say, in way of explanation. “His business keeps growing and growing.”

  My eyes return to the mural, and I step closer to what was once my and my brother’s giant canvas. I touch a faded brown squirrel that conjures so many memories, and softly murmur, “This is the first thing I painted on the day we started the project.”

  Lily comes over to the wall and touches the foot of the squirrel. That’s about as high as she can reach. “You color this, Daddy?” she asks.

  I hoist her up on my hip so she has a better view. “Not just colored, Lil. I painted it, too.”

  “All by yourself?” she wants to know.

  “Not all by myself, no. Your Uncle Chase painted the sky… and the trees….” I move her to the different sections so she can reach out and touch every part of the painting.

  Some of the animals are more faded than others, and paint is chipping away from parts of the sky. No doubt about it, the mural could definitely use some touching up.

  And, suddenly, I have an idea.

  Turning to Emma with Lily in my arms, I contain the smile that’s fighting to break free, and say, “Hey, I was just thinking. Maybe I can come in and touch up the mural.”

  “That sounds great!” Emma proclaims.

  And then she’s smiling, and I’m smiling, and everything’s great.

  “Good,” I say. “It’s a plan, then. Let’s see… I have this whole week off before I head up to New York, so—”

  “Wait.” Emma looks confused. “I thought you were staying in Harmony Creek?”

  Aw, crap, another miscommunication. Will we ever be on the same page?

  “Not permanently, Emma. The position in New York is still a go. I was able to delay my start date for one week, so I can spend more time with Lily, but I still have to leave.”

  Emma’s face falls, her disappointment palpable. “Oh, I just thought…something different.”

  “Anyway,” I say, veering back to the subject of the mural. “Maybe I can come in this week and touch up some of the faded parts.”

  “I help color, too?” Lily wants to know.

  “Sure,” I say. I suppose I could let her paint something.

  Emma huffs. She seems upset with me, but why? Why does she care so much that I’m leaving?

  “You’ll have to do it during an evening,” she snaps coolly. “You can’t be here disrupting the kids.”

  “What’s dis-rup-ing?” Lily asks.

  Setting my daughter down, I say, “I’ll tell you later, Lil.”

  I turn and face Emma. “Evenings are fine,” I say tightly.

  I want to ask what her deal is. Why is she so damn hot and cold with me? I sense she’s attracted to me, as I am with her, so what’s the problem? Sure, I’m leaving, but it’s not like I’ll never see her again. Hell, we almost kissed the other day, and she sure wasn’t pushing me away then.

  Women, I swear.

  I search for answers in Emma’s blues, but find nothing.

  “Will,” she says on a sigh. “Maybe we should sit down and talk things through sometime.”

  “I’d like that,” I say. “Since, frankly, I think I’m as confused as you seem to be.”

  “It’s just…” she trails off, begins again, “It’s complicated, is all.”

  “It doesn’t have to be, Emma.”

  I’m ready to sort this thing through right the fuck now, but Emma gestures to outside the doors, where other parents are beginning to show up with their kids. “You better go, Will. Now’s not the time to get into a big discussion.”

  With the new arrivals delayed with lowering their umbrellas outside the doors, I say in a rush, “What about tonight? You have plans?”

  She looks surprised. “Um, yeah,” she says. “I’m busy.”

  “What about tomorrow, then? We could go out to dinner. That would give us a chance to talk.”

  And maybe you can finally enlighten me as to what the hell is bothering you, I think, but don’t add.

  “I’m working,” Emma replies.

  I sigh. “I meant at night.”

  “Oh.”

  “Well?”

  “Will.”

  “Emma.”

  “Okay, but it’s not a date.”

  “Fine, it’s not a date.”

  Ten minutes later, after saying good-bye to go-with-the-flow-I’ll-be-fine-Daddy Lily, I’m walking out of the school, thinking the whole time that Emma Metzger may not see our upcoming dinner as a date, but I sure as hell do.

  Emma

  “What the hell did I agree to?” I ask Missy as I hop around my small but very messy apartment.

  I’m trying to find the matching black pump to the one on my left foot, and I’ve just about torn up the place in my quest. While I hobble around, tossing around clothes and such, Missy contents herself with lounging around on the sofa.

  Admiring her freshly painted nails, she says, “You agreed to go out with the unbelievably hot Will Gartner.” And then, with a wistful sigh, she adds, “That kid sure has grown into one fine man.”

  “You’re not helping,” I say dryly as I drop to the floor to continue my search on my knees. “I am so doomed.”

  “Oh, Emma, it’s no big deal,” I hear Missy murmuring as I peer under an easy chair in the corner of the room.

  I stop what I’m doing and glare up at Missy like she’s lost her mind. “Ah, I beg to differ, cousin-dear. This is a big deal…to me. I mean, why go out with Will when he’s leaving in less than a week? I am so stupid.” I resume my search for the lost shoe, muttering, “I never should have agreed.”

  Thirty seconds later, Missy is tapping me on the shoulder. “Here.” She hands me the rogue pump. “I found your missing shoe.”

  “Huh.” I stand up and slip it on my stockinged foot. “Where’d you find it?”

  Missy points to the sofa to where she was just sitting. “It was in that mess you created,” she says, gesturing to a crumpled throw and a pile of clothes.

  “Wow, I really have made a mess of things,” I mutter.

  “Hey.” She squeezes my shoulder. “About Will…”

  “Yes”—I sigh—“about Will.”

  “Just have fun tonight, okay? You deserve a nice dinner with a good-looking guy like him.” She sighs. “Just don’t go messing things up, like I did way back when with Chase. Play it cool, Emma. Don’t give in to that damn Gartner charm.”

  “Ha, that’s easier said than done.”

  “For real,” Missy agrees, blowing out a breath.

  Missy has a history with Chase. Their encounter happened long before Missy married Chase’s business partner, Nick Mercurio, though. It also occurred before Chase knew Kay. Nonetheless, for a long time afterward, Missy lusted hard after Chase. Understandable, since he is really hot, just like his younger brother.

  Clearing her throat, and mercifully changing the subject, Missy says, “So, those shoes really match your dress perfectly, don’t they?”

  “They do,” I agree as I straighten the hem of the black lacy dress I have on. I motion for Missy to follow me into my bedroom. “Hey, come on in and talk with me while I finish my hair. The flat iron should be hot by now.”

  At the doorway, Missy leans on the jamb while I get to work on straightening my naturally wavy hair.

  Eyeing me curiously, she asks, “So, why did you agree to go out with Will? I mean, apart from the fact that he is a stunning specimen of man that would be
hard for any woman to resist.”

  I lower the flat iron to my side and come clean. “Truth is, I really like him, Missy, more than I should.” Our eyes meet in the mirror. “That’s the problem, too. I don’t want to like him.”

  “Why? Is it only because he’s leaving?”

  “Well, yeah, there is that. But I also think it’s screwed up he can’t commit to his daughter.”

  Missy shrugs. “I don’t know how true that statement is, hon. Kay tells me Will is great with Lily.”

  I resume working with the flat iron, and Missy comes in the room and sits on the edge of my bed.

  After a minute, I dismally declare, “Anyone can be great with their kid when it’s only for a week.”

  “It’s not just for a week, Emma. Will’s taking Lily with him to New York, right?”

  I bark out a laugh. “Yeah, but not till he basically has round-the-clock daycare set up for the kid. I don’t know about you, but I sure don’t call that being committed.” Sighing, I add, “I hate to imagine what he’d be like in a relationship, seeing as even his daughter has a lower priority than his precious career path.”

  In a soft voice, Missy says, “Do you think maybe you’re seeing a little too much of yourself in Lily?”

  I set the iron down with a clatter. “She’s five years old, Missy!”

  “And you were seven when your dad left.”

  Missy’s hit a nerve, but I try to stay calm and reasonable. “Look,” I say, “I don’t deny I have abandonment issues. But this situation with Will, it’s not just that. Sometimes, he just…really…irks me.”

  Missy eyes me knowingly. “That’s because you’re really into him.”

  “And there it is, we’ve come full circle,” I admit with a groan.

  Missy shoots me a small commiserating smile. Every woman knows that feeling of misplaced affection, the one where you pretty much have to give in, because fighting is useless.

  With my hands covering my face, I mumble through my fingers, “Ugh, you’re so right. God help me, but the truth is I really do want to start something with Will.”

  Yes, God help me indeed.

  Will

  I don’t plan to tell Chase I’m going out on a date with Emma. I suspect he wouldn’t approve of a) me going out on any date when I’m leaving in four days, and b) me going out with Emma, specifically.

  Dressed casually in jeans and a navy button-down shirt, I jog down the stairs to find Chase and Kay in their living room, watching TV.

  I stick my head in the room and say, “Hey, guys, I have a few errands to run in town. Can you keep an eye on Lily while I’m gone?”

  They agree without questioning me, so I get the hell out of the house before they figure out I’m being less than forthcoming.

  In my car—the BMW that arrived a few hours ago—I call Emma.

  Still set on not calling this what it is, a date, she refuses to let me pick her up. “I’ll just meet you at the restaurant,” she tells me.

  She’s stubborn, but I kind of like it.

  When I arrive at the bistro, I have the hostess lead me to a quiet table in the back. Before she leaves, I ask her to let Emma know I’m here already.

  When the waiter comes around for the third time, ten minutes have passed. Emma is late, so I go ahead and order a bottle of wine.

  Emma arrives, finally, just as the wine shows up.

  “Ooh, going all out for our non-date, I see.” She nods to the bottle.

  There’s teasing in her tone, and a smile playing at her lips, so I know she’s not mad.

  “I hope you like pinot grigio,” I reply.

  “Love it,” she says as she sits down in the chair across from me.

  Damn, she looks good. For someone who claims this isn’t a date, she sure has dressed like it is. Not that I’m complaining. In those sleek heels, her long legs seem to go on forever. I can’t help but imagine how much better they’d look wrapped around me if we were to ever—

  “Will, hey. Earth to Will.” Emma waves her hand in front of my face. “Thought I lost you for a minute there.”

  Clearing my throat, I compose myself and reply in my smoothest tone, “No, no, I’m here. I promise you, Emma, I am one hundred percent in this moment.”

  I smile over at her, and she smiles back. And soon, things begin to feel more right for me than they have in a long time. There’s something more than lust between Emma and me, something I can’t define. I don’t know what it is, but it feels like…potential.

  Too bad I’m leaving on Sunday.

  Dinner comes and goes, and we order a second bottle of wine. I end up drinking far more than Emma. It feels good, though, to let go. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately.

  As my inhibitions fall away, I flat-out ask Emma, “So, what is it about me you don’t like?”

  She switched over to ice water a minute ago and is in the process of taking a drink. Or, rather, trying to, as my question catches her off guard and she coughs and sputters.

  “I like you,” she says, setting her glass on the table and wiping her mouth with a cloth napkin.

  “Eh.” I shrug. “You say that, and I feel like you do, but there’s something bothering you.” I wave my hand around, like I’m swishing away this undisclosed something between us. “I feel it, Emma, your hesitation. That’s why you didn’t want to call this a date, right? Something about me bugs you, doesn’t it?”

  “Jeez, Will, nothing like getting right to the point there.”

  I lean back in my chair. “Seriously, Emma, just tell me. I’m a big boy, I can take it.”

  She doesn’t look so sure.

  Eyeing me warily, she says, “I just feel bad for Lily, that’s all.”

  “Okaaay…” I pour the last of the wine into my glass and take a long sip. And then, since I’m thoroughly irritated now, I throw her earlier words back at her. “Jeez, Emma, nothing like getting right to the point there.”

  I glare over at her. She can’t maintain the intense eye contact for more than a few seconds, and, looking down at the table, she murmurs, “You asked me to tell you what’s been bothering me.”

  “Yeah, I did.” I sigh. “But I’m trying to be a good father to Lily. It’s unfair to expect me to be perfect. Let’s not forget, this is all new to me. Her mother dumped her on me unexpectedly. Hell, up until last week, I didn’t even know I had a kid.”

  She shakes her head, like she’s trying to rid herself of some bad thought. “I know all that, but…”

  “What? Just spit it out, Emma.”

  And then she does. “I’m not questioning your intent, Will. But you’re still leaving Lily—”

  “And like the plan before,” I interject, “it’s only for a couple of weeks, max.”

  “And then what?” Her blue eyes flash with fire, telling me someone left this girl once and that’s really why she’s mad. “What kind of life is Lily going to have in New York with you working all the time? She’s never going to see you. I bet when it gets really tough, you’ll send her back to her mom.”

  I snort. “That is never going to happen. I don’t even know how to reach Cassie.”

  “See,” Emma says, pointing at me accusingly. “That’s exactly what I mean. You’d consider it, wouldn’t you? You’d give up Lily if you knew where Cassie was.”

  She has me all off-track now, and the wine clouding my brain isn’t helping matters. Would I give Lily back to Cassie? I don’t know. Not if Cassie’s still using, no way. But if she were clean…?

  “I don’t know what I’d do,” I admit.

  Instead of blowing up at me, like I fully expect her to, Emma says softly, “You can’t just give her away, Will. That’s the same thing as leaving her. Lily needs her father. Daughters need their dads.”

  Emma reaches over and snatches my glass of wine. She takes a sip, and then sets the glass down, her fingers wrapped tightly around the stem. “I’m sorry,” she says, eyes downcast.

  I reach over and gently pry her fingers fro
m the wine glass before she snaps the stem in two.

  “Hey,” I say quietly. “Is this really about Lily? Or is this about you?”

  She then tells me about how her dad left her family when she was only a couple years older than what Lily is now. She explains how it made her feel, how it still makes her feel.

  “It’s irrational, I know. But I’m glad I came clean with you. I’m sorry, but I can’t help the way I feel, Will.”

  “I’d never do that to Lily, though,” I adamantly declare. “Even if Cassie took her back, I’d always stay in her life.”

  Emma scoffs. “Yeah, like that’d work out, with you in New York and her out west.”

  Now, I just want to leave. I motion for the waiter to bring the check and when he does I throw a bunch of bills on the table. “Let’s get out of here,” I say, my words clipped.

  “I’m sorry I ruined our date,” Emma murmurs as we head for the door.

  “It wasn’t a date, remember?”

  I don’t know why I’m suddenly being a dick. Or maybe I do. The conversation we just had has hit a little too close to home, making me realize I’m only partially committed to keeping Lily with me indefinitely.

  As we near where the cars are parked, Emma says, “Hey, Will. Let me drive you home. You had a lot more to drink than I did.”

  I consider it, since I am a little more than buzzed. “What about my car, though?” I motion to my shiny BMW.

  Emma’s eyes widen when she realizes what kind of car I have. “Wow,” she murmurs. “What happened to the rental?”

  I lean against the side of my car. “The rental company came to the house and picked it up.”

  “And this one is yours?”

  “Yep.”

  She shakes her head, and I swear I hear her mumble something about the “different worlds” we live in. Maybe she’s right.

  Fishing the keys from my pocket, I say, “Hey, I’ll see you around.”

  Before I can go, though, Emma places her hand on my arm. “Will, wait. Seriously, you shouldn’t drive. I’m sure Chase or Kay can bring you back tomorrow to pick up your car.”