“Yes, sir,” she says, moving back to her desk and keeping the rest of her thoughts to herself. And as I get ready for my meeting, I can’t help but smile, thinking how Emmy would have handled that with her lack of filter. Yes. I definitely have a good feeling about her. Our age difference might make anything more than an employer/employee relationship prohibitive, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of her. And there’s nothing wrong with taking a special interest in a talented young woman. Right?
Emmy
“Pop!” I fling the front door open so fast that it bangs against the wall. “Pop! Where are you?”
“In the kitchen, Emmy girl,” he calls out and I jump-skip-run toward the kitchen.
Pop and Gran—when she’d still been with us—lived in the same house they moved into back when they were newlyweds. It’s a cozy little place with two floors—bedrooms and bathroom upstairs, then a single living area and a poky little kitchen and laundry room downstairs, letting out onto a postage stamp-sized yard. They’d always expected that this would be their starter home, and that after they started having children, they’d be forced to find somewhere bigger. But when my mom was born, Gran found out she couldn’t have any more kids. So, it was here they stayed. And it’s here that Pop will remain. He says it’s where he feels closest to Gran. Sometimes, I overhear him still talking like she’s here. It’s so sweet, and I know he misses her. He loved her so much.
“Pop!” I come to an abrupt stop as I enter the kitchen and catch Pop shut a cabinet with his foot, his face just a little too innocent. I narrow my eyes at the dark smear around his mouth, knowing he’s hidden a stash of chocolates.
“Whatcha got there?” I drawl, crossing my arms and looking at him. My foot juts out and taps the floor.
“Nothing, Em.” Pop walks to me and stoops to place a kiss on my cheek. I lean away, and grab a napkin off the kitchen counter, and press it to his chest.
“Careful there, Pop, you’ve got a bit of chocolate on your mouth. Don’t you dare get it on me.”
He sighs and reaches up to wipe the corner of his mouth with the napkin. “You’ve caught me.”
I roll my eyes and grab the napkin from him, wiping off the chocolate he’d missed. “Pop, you know you’ve got to watch your sugar intake. Diabetes is serious.”
“I know, I know.” He waves me off as he takes the napkin and drops it in the trash. “I’ll do better. And I’ll make it up to you too.”
“You just need to watch what you eat, Pop. You don’t have to make anything up to me. You and Gran gave me everything, so it’s me who’s indebted to you,” I say, pressing a gentle kiss on his wrinkle-coated cheek. When I was eleven, my mom decided she wanted to chase her dreams of becoming a country music star and ran away with her boyfriend. She dropped me off with Pop and Gran with a plastic bag full of clothes and a promise she was going to make it big. “Always chase your dreams,” she’d said.
“But what if you don’t catch them?” I asked.
“Then you just have to run faster.”
Needless to say, she didn’t make it big. In fact, I have no idea what happened to her because we’ve had zero contact since.
“You owe me nothing, girl. Your gran and I were more than happy to take you in, and it’s been nothing but a pleasure having you living with us. But, as far as the chocolates are concerned, I’m still going to make it up to you. That was your stash I raided.” He grins at the feigned look of outrage on my face.
“Oh, the cheek on you, Arthur Townsend.”
“Ah, I’m old, and I enjoy my sweets. What can I say?”
“Well, let’s just be sure to keep a close eye on your insulin levels just to be safe.”
“Of course, sweetheart. Now, what is it you were yelling about when you came in?” he asks, and I brighten up.
“Oh, yes—I got a job! And Pop, it’s not just any job. This is arealone, with training and career progression.” I’m bouncing on my toes with excitement. “No more temporary gigs working for a pittance. This is the big leagues, and I’m gonna be great at it, Pop. I just know I’ve got what he’s looking for.”
“Got what who’s looking for?”
“My boss, Drake Grant. He’s the CEO of that company that makes Grant Car Care Products. I’m sure we’ve cleaned the Chevy with them before. I’m the newest member of their sales team,” I add proudly. “And Pop, there’ll be health insurance this time too. This could be a game-changer for us.”
“Health insurance?” Pop’s eyes go wide and delighted. “Wow!”
“I know!” I squeal. “I’m so excited.” I lift my arms above my head and do a little jig on the spot. Pop joins in and bumps his hip with mine as we sing about health insurance and money in the bank like we’re two little kids who’ve just gotten our first paycheck for a paper route. It’s very exciting when we’ve been scrimping and saving for so long now, I can’t even remember a time when I didn’t feel anxious checking the mailbox.
“Ahem.” A throat clears from the other side of the back door, interrupting our celebratory dance party.
“You expecting someone?” Pop asks as we grip each other’s arms, startled by our unexpected guest. The waning light is behind whoever it is, so all I can make out is a tall figure from the other side of the screen.
“No. You?”
“No.”
