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I’m using napkins to sop up the extra lemonade from the table when I hear someone call my name. I look up reflexively, shocked to find Phil and Doris walking up to me, soft smiles on their faces. On cue my own smile, which had been a permanent fixture this entire evening, dropped.
I open my mouth, but the words don’t come. I’m not even sure what I want to say in this moment as I’m faced with the overwhelming collision of two very separate parts of my world. But I know I need to say something as they stop before me. “Hey,” I can’t think of anything else to say. I’m struggling with imagining their reactions to Charley. Maria’s been gone a long time now, but for some reason it feels like me being caught trying to move on is dishonoring her memory. Logically, I know I’m not doing anything wrong, but I’m not sure how they’ll see it. After walking away from them for years, I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize the tentative relationship we were building. I hadn’t even begun to think about telling them about Charley yet, but I never would have sprung it on them like this.
Doris steps into me and pulls me in quick hug. “It’s good to see you, Emmett. We haven’t seen you in a few weeks. I was starting to worry.” The guilt feels suffocating then. Because even after everything I put them through, they still treat me like their son.
“I know,” I say, “I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy with work.” With Charley. With the first woman who’s made me feel anything since the moment I lost their daughter.
It’s like my thoughts conjure her because there she is. Sunny smile. Beautiful even with her soaking wet hair and dress. “Sorry about that.” Then she glances back and forth between us. I’m sure I look like a deer in headlights, the panic clear in my face, but I don’t know what to say. The guilt is suffocating me.
Charley breaks the awkward silence, flipping her now soggy and frizzy hair over her shoulder as she says, “Hi, I’m Emmett’s…friend Charley. And you are?”
Doris and Phil don’t respond. Their smiles drop from their faces as they look between me and Charley and I can tell the moment Charley realizes something is wrong. Her sunny smile vanishes as she looks at me, insecurity replacing the happiness of moments ago. That look guts me. Because I know I’m the reason it’s there, but I can’t focus on anything other than getting out of this situation. Getting out of here.
Because running is all I seem to know how to do, I say, “um, we were actually just leaving.” Leaving some bills on the table to cover our dinner and giving the still frozen forms of Phil and Doris a terse nod, I grab Charley’s arm and lead her to the exit.
twenty-two
Rock Bottom
The perfect date came to an abrupt and unsatisfying end. During the entire ride home, I tried to get Emmett to open up to me about what exactly happened. But he just brushed aside my questions with a flippant reply followed by stony silence.
The uncomfortable kind of silence that follows us all the way to my door. As if belatedly remembering his manners, Emmett’s hard face softens a bit as he looks at me. “I’m sorry about this evening, Charley. I know I owe you an explanation. I’m not even sure I know what happened. One minute everything was going well and the next I see her parents. I just couldn’t…” I hold my breath, not wanting to do anything at all to keep him from finishing that statement. But he never does. Sighing deeply, he says, “have a good night, Charley. I’ll call you later, okay?”
And that’s it. No goodbye kiss or lingering touches. He doesn’t even stay to make sure I make it inside, as he usually does. The second he’s back in his car, he peels out of there as if fleeing a burning building and I feel my heart sink all the way to my toes.
Here we are eight days later, and he hasn’t called. Hasn’t texted. Hasn’t sent a letter or a damn carrier pigeon. Emmett has made absolutely no attempt to talk to me at all.
I didn’t want to tell Millie what was going on at first, because saying it out loud makes it real. And if I don’t say it, then it can’t be real. In a day or so, Emmett would be at my doorstep with a thoughtful gift and puppy dog eyes as he apologizes and begs for my forgiveness. Which I would, of course, give him, and we can profess our love for each other and live happily ever after. This is how these things worked. I know this because I’m an expert. But as each day passes without any communication from him and my calls and texts remain unanswered, I lose more and more faith.
I finally cracked earlier today and called Millie sobbing so dramatically that actual words were impossible. And, like the angel she is, Millie shows up an hour later with a covered dish. Eyeing the dish, I ask, “Is that what I think it is?”
Stern-faced, Millie answers, “Emotional support brownies? Yes. It sounded like you could use them. Now let me in and tell me exactly what the hell happened. Because neither of you have told me a damn thing and all I know is my best friend and my brother are both miserable.”
Just having my friend here makes me feel better. Cecil clearly feels the same way as he sidles up next to me, his whole body shaking with excitement at the sight of Millie. Grabbing the precious cargo from her, I move back from the doorway to let Millie in. She makes it a few steps in before she’s met with Cecil’s enthusiastic greeting.
I plop the brownies down on the coffee table and grab forks from the kitchen. Handing one to Millie, who’s finally managed to extricate herself from Cecil’s affections and make her way to the couch, I sit down and promptly dig in.
“No plates? We’re just digging into an entire pan of brownies with forks? This must be really bad.”
I grunt in answer because my mouth is too full of the gooey chocolatey goodness to form actual words. For as long as I can remember, this was our tradition. Through every failed exam, bad day, or breakup, Millie and I had weathered the storm together just like this. And the familiarity of the moment brings a smile to my lips even as my heart still seems fractured beyond repair.
“I think it’s over.” I whisper the words I’ve been afraid to even think for the last eight days.
Millie’s nose scrunches up in confusion at my statement. “What do you mean ‘over’? Because from what I could see you are head over heels for that man and he’s right there beside you.”
I get why Millie’s confused. Hell, I’m confused too. “I don’t even know what happened. One minute, we were having the most amazing day together. It was different this time. He felt different, I mean. Like maybe things had changed between us. And the next, he’s staring dumbstruck at her parents, and I’m covered head-to-toe in lemonade as he seems to forget about my existence entirely.”
Softly, Millie asks, “Maria’s parents?” She waits for my nod and then says, “and he hasn’t called since then?”
Shoving another forkful of gooey goodness into my mouth, I shake my head.
“So why the hell haven’t you gone to him and confronted him?” Millie raises her voice, an edge to it that she rarely uses, and I sit up straight at it.
“What do you mean? He hasn’t answered my calls or texts. Going to him would just make me seem like some desperate person. If he were interested in me, he would have called. But he didn’t. Radio silence for eight days, Mil!”
“I understand that, but what I don’t understand is why you’re not going to try to fight for this. If he wants to end this, then he can damn well tell you to your face.”
I turn away; I can’t face Millie while I admit my own weakness. “Because I love him, Millie. Like really, truly, madly love him. And I’m absolutely terrified to face the fact that it’s over before it ever really even began.”
