Engulfing Emma (The Men on Fire Series)

by Samantha Christy

  Look. Away.

  Brett catches me staring but strangely enough, he doesn’t so much as smirk.

  “Okay,” he says. “Where do you want us?”

  “On either side of Carter,” Grace says. “Put your arms around him.”

  I put my arm around Carter and freeze when I realize I’m touching Brett’s hand. I want to pull away, but I don’t want my awkward moment to ruin the picture, so I stay where I am and pray it’s over soon.

  After Grace is satisfied she got a good picture, I pull my arm back. But not before Brett grabs my hand ever so briefly and gives it a squeeze.

  My heart beats out of control at his touch. I will myself to ignore the feelings coursing through my body. “We better get back to our booth.”

  “But you said I could play some more games,” Evelyn whines.

  I give her a hard stare. “Evelyn.”

  “Why don’t you let me take her around?” Brett says. “I’m on a break. We can go find Leo. He and Bonnie are around here somewhere.”

  “Please, Mom? I really want to see Leo. He’s the cutest kid I’ve ever seen. Isn’t he cute? And remember, every game I play is more money that goes to Carter and his bionic leg.”

  “She makes a good point,” Brett says.

  Man, am I tired of being manipulated today. But Carter and his mother are standing right here. What am I going to do, tell Evelyn she can’t participate?

  “Fine.” I pull a twenty out of my pocket. “Be back at our booth in half an hour.”

  “Not a second later,” Brett says, leading her away without taking the money.

  I stare after them for a minute, watching them joke around with each other. Then Leo comes running out of nowhere. He goes right up to Evelyn. She picks him up and spins him around. The three of them look so happy together.

  Grace stands next to me. “They all seem to get along well. You’d almost think they were family.”

  I look away. A family she can never be a part of.

  “It’s been wonderful to meet you, Grace. Please come by our booth, and I’ll give you one of my famous cinnamon rolls.”

  “I think I’ll do just that, Emma. Thank you.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “Jordan tells me you’ve taught first grade for six years.”

  “I have,” Dan says.

  “It’s pretty unusual for a man to teach first grade,” I say.

  “I guess so, but I like it. The kids respond to me well. I didn’t go into it intending to teach six-year-olds, but it was the only job I could get that first year. It kind of grew on me, so I stayed.”

  It’s nice that he likes kids. Points for that.

  The waitress brings our food.

  “Do you have any children of your own?” I ask.

  He chokes on his sip of beer. “God, no. Teaching first grade is the best form of birth control.”

  Becca and Jordan stare him down from across the table, and he backtracks. “Uh, but I do like them, though. Do you have any?”

  “I have a twelve-year-old daughter,” I say, shooting Jordan a punishing glance. “I’m surprised Jordan didn’t tell you.”

  “That’s cool,” Dan says. “I’ll bet she’s a handful at that age, all those hormones going wild.” He studies me. “Twelve? Exactly how old are you, Emma?”

  “I’m twenty-seven.”

  He does the math in his head.

  “Evelyn is anything but a handful,” I add. “She’s a godsend.”

  “Okay, well, that’s … brave of you, I guess.”

  I guess? Who the hell is this guy? I give Becca a disapproving stare over my glass of wine. She just shrugs at me.

  “What do you like to do in your spare time?” he asks.

  “I don’t know. Lots of things. Go into tall buildings. Fly. Hang out in storage closets.”

  Becca spits out her drink, and Jordan offers her a napkin. She kicks me under the table.

  “Those sound like … uh, interesting hobbies,” he says. “Do you like music?”

  “I listen to it from time to time.”

  “Who do you like?”

  “Elton John.”

  “Isn’t he dead?”

  I wonder how soon I can dump this guy and go home.

  “Dan,” Jordan says, trying to ease the insurmountable tension. “Why don’t you tell Emma about your collection?”

  “You’re a collector?” I ask. “Of what?”

  “Coins.” He pulls one out of his pocket. “Look at this. It was minted in error. See how the head is off to the side and there is the bit of another head showing along the edge?”

  I take it into my hand and study it. “Interesting. Is it worth a lot?”

  “Do you think I’d be carrying it around in my pocket if it were?”

  “I guess not. So why do you carry it around?”

  “It’s my lucky quarter.”

  “You think you’re going to get lucky tonight?” I joke.

  He tosses it in the air and catches it. “I don’t sleep with women on the first date,” he says in total seriousness. “I request a clean bill of health before going down that road.”

  Did he really just say that? I could be home playing scrabble with Evelyn and Mom or soaking in a hot tub with a book. Both ideas appeal to me greatly at the moment.

  “My best coins are locked in a safe deposit box. I have quite the collection of mules.”

  “Mules?” I ask, wishing this torture would end.

  “Coins with designs not normally seen on the same piece.”

  “You’ve lost me.”

  “You know, like the front side of one coin with the back side of a totally different coin. They are very rare.”

  “Why are they called mules?”

  “They’re named after the animal. The mule is a hybrid offspring of a horse and a donkey. Just like the coins are a hybrid of two different coins not meant to be together.”

  Donkey.

  Now I’m thinking about Leo. Does he still play with the gift I gave him? Did Brett smash it to smithereens when I broke things off?

  Dan goes on and nauseatingly on about some Sacagawea dollar he got out of a Cheerios box nineteen years ago that made him want to start collecting coins.

  I share a get-me-out-of-here look with Becca.

  “Oh, gosh,” I say, faking getting a text. “My daughter is having a little emergency. Girl problems. I have to run to the store and get a few things for her.”

  Becca tries not to let the guys see her smile.

  “See? That’s why I don’t have kids,” Dan says. “They suck up all your time. They’re time-suckers. You are tied to them for eighteen long years. Maybe more. No thank you. I’ll stick with my dog. At least with dogs, you can take them to the pound when you get tired of them.”

  My jaw drops, and I have to bite my tongue to keep myself from going off on him.

  “Why don’t we call it a night?” Becca says, thwarting my impending attack. “We didn’t need dessert anyway. I’m still trying to lose the five pounds I gained on our honeymoon.”

  “I’ll get the check,” Jordan says.

  “Separate checks please,” Dan says. “For all of us.” He turns to me. “I make it a point not to pay for women until the fifth date. I hope you brought money with you.”

  This time I can’t hold back. “Sure, because by then you’ll know if she’s diseased or not, but I’m willing to bet you don’t get to that fifth date very often, do you? Not even with that lucky mule thing in your pocket.”

  “It’s not a mule in my pocket. It’s just a misprint.” He seems confused by my outburst. “Did I say something to offend you?”

  “No, Dan. You’ve been the perfect gentleman. In fact, let’s do this again. I’ve been looking for someone to become my kid’s new father. You interested?”

  He stumbles over his words. “Uh, well, Jordan just said we were going to have some fun. I wasn’t … I’m not …”

  “Your checks,” the waitress says.

  Th
ank God.

  After we leave the restaurant, Dan quickly excuses himself, barely even saying goodbye to me.

  Becca laughs as she watches him run away. “That was—”

  “A disaster?” I say.

  “I was going to say awkward, but yeah.”

  I turn to Jordan. “Would you mind screening your friends next time?”

  “What exactly are your requirements?”

  “Tall, dark and covered with soot?” Becca says, laughing.

  “You know that’s not what I mean,” I say. “That guy doesn’t even like kids. I pity his students. And he’s soooooo boring. I mean, coins. Really?”

  “I thought boring was what you wanted,” Jordan says.

  “Safe and boring are not the same thing, Jordan,” I tell him as we start the walk home.

  “I’ll keep that in mind for next time. But maybe you could get me a list of acceptable occupations, hobbies, and interests.”

  I hit him in the arm when he starts laughing. “Shut up.”

  “So there wasn’t really a girl problem emergency?” he asks.

  “No. Evelyn’s not there yet.”

  We get to my townhouse, and I give them both a hug. “Thanks for walking me home. And thanks for trying.”

  “Anytime,” Jordan says.

  “Look.” Becca motions across the street.

  I look before thinking about it. I see Brett standing near his living room window, holding Leo.

  “Now, there’s a guy who loves kids,” Becca says. “And he’s most definitely not boring.”

  I quickly look away before he catches me staring. “Et tu, Brute?” I say sharply. “I get enough of that at home, Becca. Can you please back off?”

  She holds up her hands in surrender. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She looks at Jordan. “I just want everyone to be as deliriously happy as we are.”

  Jordan kisses her temple.

  “Deliriously happy doesn’t last,” I say. “Safety and security do.”

  I say goodbye and go up my steps. I’m not sure why I feel compelled to turn around and look across the street once more before I go inside. But I stupidly do. And I see that he’s noticed me. He smiles and puts a hand on the glass.

  Me—I do the only thing I can.

  I turn and walk away.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Brett

  Bria and I make our way through thousands of people. I used to think people would stop coming to the memorial after so much time has passed, but today I feel the opposite is true.

  I never bring Leo with me, especially not on the actual anniversary. I take him to Mom’s grave sometimes, but I’ll wait until he’s much older to bring him here. All the names engraved on the parapets. The distraught people. It can be confusing for a child.

  After the ceremony, Bria and I make our usual trip to the south memorial and find Mom’s name. Her name is listed with her coworkers, who also ran inside to help. We see the familiar faces of the friends and family of those coworkers, who come every year to pay their respects.

  “Where are you going?” Bria asks, when I start to walk in the opposite direction.

  “I want to find another name this year.”

  She nods and follows me in silence.

  I know exactly where to look. Like my mom, Emma’s dad died in the south tower. I researched where his name was engraved. It’s around the corner from Mom’s. I find his name and run my hand across it.

  William Abernathy Lockhart, Jr.

  Bria puts a hand on my shoulder. “How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”

  “Since I’ve seen her or since she dumped me?”

  Her face fills with compassion. “Maybe she just needs time.”

  “You didn’t see her face when she walked out on me, Bria. She’s done with me. Look around. We’re surrounded by people who’ve lost a loved one. She’s tired of being one of these people. Maybe I can’t blame her.”

  “Well, I blame her,” she says. “She broke your heart. You weren’t even this sad when Amanda left you, and you guys were together for almost a decade.”

  She’s right. I think with Amanda, I was angry more than I was sad. Angry at her for not loving Leo. Angry at her for putting her job before her family. But sad? I guess I must have been, but it was nothing like this. Nothing like my heart actually hurting like it has a hole in it and is missing a piece. Two pieces actually. Sometimes I find myself missing Evie almost as much as I miss Emma.

  Evie and I still text each other, but it’s not the same. It’s nowhere near the same.

  After Bria leaves to go to rehearsal, I attend the annual 9/11 FDNY luncheon and wonder if Emma is here. I’m not holding out much hope, however. If she won’t go to the memorial, she probably won’t come here.

  I don’t see her, but I do see two other familiar faces. Evie runs over and gives me a hug.

  “Hey, squirt. Long time no see.”

  “Too long,” she says.

  I nod to her grandmother. “Hi, Enid.”

  I know Emma’s not here, but I look behind the two of them just in case.

  As if reading my mind, Enid says, “She never comes to these things.”

  “I know. I was just hoping …” I run a hand through my hair. “How is she?”

  “Immersed in work.”

  “But she misses you,” Evie says with a sad smile. “I know she does.”

  This is nothing new. Evie tells me similar things when we text.

  “I’ve always taken pride in how smart my daughter is,” Enid says. “I’m sorry to say this is not one of those times.”

  I’m surrounded by people who have lost someone. Even all these years later, the memory of that day is still raw. “I didn’t really get it until today,” I say. “Being here, and earlier, at the ceremony, I’m beginning to understand how she wants to distance herself from the possibility of history repeating itself.”

  Enid shakes her head. “Fear is no reason to forgo happiness.”

  “I agree, but fear is often irrational.”

  “It’s a strong emotion,” she says. “Maybe even stronger than love, I’m afraid.”

  “It’s not,” Evie says. “There isn’t an emotion stronger than love. Love always wins in the end.”

  I ruffle her hair. “You watch too many Disney movies.”

  “Stop it,” she says, irritated that I messed up her hair. “And maybe I do watch them, but it’s how I know you will end up together, no matter how many other guys she dates.”

  Evie immediately looks guilty about what she said. Enid scolds her. “Evie, you need to learn when to be discreet.”

  “She’s dating?”

  “She’s trying to get over you,” Evie says. “It won’t work, you know.”

  She’s dating. After only two weeks. But when I think about it, I realize Emma and I were really only together for a couple of weeks ourselves.

  “Evie,” Enid says. “Will you be a dear and get me some more iced tea?”

  “Sure, Grandma.”

  Enid watches Evie walk away. When she’s out of earshot, Enid turns to me. “My daughter loves you. I don’t say that lightly, having only loved one man in my life, so believe me when I tell you she’s only ever loved one in hers.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “She told you this?”

  “A mother knows.” She glances after her granddaughter. “We all know how smart Evie is. She thinks she understands love, but she doesn’t. Her mother is strong-willed. Always has been. That’s why a big part of me thinks that even though she loves you, she’s going to let fear and stubbornness stand in her way. It pains me to say this, but I think you need to find a way to move on.”

  I stand here, confused as hell. “Enid, why would you tell me she loves me and in the next breath encourage me to find someone else?”

  “Maybe because I don’t want to give you false hope. At the same time, however, I want to believe that love conquers all. What’s that saying? If you love someone, let them go and if t
hey come back to you it was meant to be?”

  I snort.

  “All I’m saying is you can’t sit around and wait for her, because it might be in vain. Go live your life. Have fun. Date. You deserve happiness too, you know.”

  “Here, Grandma,” Evie says. “Are you finished talking about all the love stuff you don’t think I’m old enough to hear?”

  Enid and I laugh.

  “I’ve got to get this one to school,” Enid says. “I promised Emma she’d only take half a day off.”

  Evie gives me another hug. “Bye, Brett. See you in the window.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Bonnie catches me holding a beer, pacing in front of the window after Leo goes to bed. She raises a scolding brow. “Again?”

  “Stop judging me,” I say. “I can’t help it, knowing she’s right across the street.”

  “Maybe you should think about finding another place to live.”

  “I’m not going to let a woman drive me out of my house, Bonnie.”

  “No, you’re just going to let her drive you crazy.”

  “I’ll get over it sooner or later.”

  She looks at me with gentle eyes. “So you’re just going to fall out of love with her?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. But it’s only been a few weeks.”

  “Maybe it’s time to put yourself out there, Brett. There’s no better way to get over a love than finding someone new.”

  “You mean sleep with someone new.”

  “You said it, not me.”

  I sit on the couch and lean back against the cushion. “The funny part is I’ve actually thought about it. Guys at the station have a list of women they want to set me up with.”

  “You’re not a kid anymore,” she says. “You’re a responsible adult. There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun.”

  “Every time I think about taking one of them up on it, I feel guilty.”

  “You shouldn’t.”

  “I know, but I do. Why is that? She dumped me, but I feel guilty about dating another woman. Hell, I’m pretty sure she’s out there dating, so why shouldn’t I be?”