Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Emma
I ’ve never been more nervous in my entire life.
Like, ever.
I lost both of my parents in a car accident when I was eight years old. I was a quiet bookish kid in a middle school and high school that celebrated conformity and Friday night football. I went to college when I was sixteen and made it through the LSATs, law school, early mornings and late (and sometimes all) nights as a BigLaw associate working for partners who demanded nothing but excellence and for whom a mistake was the functional equivalent of the apocalypse. I left a relatively stable, if unfulfilling, job to start my own law firm with my friends.
That’s all to say I haven’t exactly led a non stressful life up to this point.
But I have never felt the way I feel now as I drive up the street toward our office.
My palms are sweating, my heart is hammering in my chest, and my stomach is in knots. There’s a nonzero chance I will throw up right here in the front seat of my car. The coffee I bought at my favorite café—the most incredible French vanilla blend I get every morning—is sitting untouched in my cup holder.
I’m a wreck. I’m almost never a wreck, so I have no coping skills for this particular feeling.
Parking at the curb in front of the office, I turn off the car and lean my head back against the seat, closing my eyes and taking some deep breaths to try and calm my sparking nerves. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work. The people who swear by yoga breathing are full of so much shit. All the yoga breathing in the world is not going to make me feel better right now.
Because in a few hours, I’m going to be someone’s guardian. There is going to be a seven-year-old girl looking to me to keep her happy, healthy, and safe.
Holy motherfucking shitballs.
Sitting in this car isn’t going to make anything better, so I open my eyes and steel myself to get moving. As I reach over to the passenger seat to grab everything I need, my eyes land on the note.
I have no idea when he wrote it, but I found it on my pillow when I went up to get ready for bed after he left last night.
Ems,
I’m so proud of you. It’s a remarkable thing you’re doing.
It’s okay to be nervous, but I know without a doubt that you are exactly who Maddy needs. She is so lucky to have you.
Call me if you need anything.
I had fun tonight.
Jeremy
I don’t know why I brought the note with me today instead of tucking it into the keepsake box with its twin, but I’m glad I did.
I run my hands over Jeremy’s words, reading them over and over again, each pass unknotting the anxiety in my stomach a little bit more. My mind flits back to last night, to how much he wanted to go shopping with me. How dedicated he was to setting up the room exactly the way I wanted it. How easily he talked me through my momentary freakout. How much fun it was to eat too much Chinese food and taste test different beers and laugh our asses off at The Office.
How right it felt to sit on the couch with him and lean on his shoulder, to feel him rest his head on mine while our pinkies linked again and our legs pressed closely together. It definitely felt more than friendly, that’s for damn sure.
It’s crazy how much two weeks, two runs, a mid-storm rescue, a couple of handwritten notes, and my life-altering decision to apply to be a foster parent can change things.
My phone beeps, cutting off my thoughts of Jeremy, except not really, because when I reach for the phone, it’s his name on the screen.
Jeremy
Give ‘em hell today, Ems.
I chuckle at his choice of words, as if I’m going into battle and not meeting a child. Although, I kind of feel like I’m going into battle, so maybe he’s not that far off.
Me
It’s a seven-year-old girl, not a boxing match. I don’t think there’s anyone to give hell to.
Jeremy
I used to be an athlete. All I know are sports pep talks.
Interesting your mind went straight to boxing and not, like, football or something.
Or hockey?
Or that.
I don’t play football or hockey, but I do box.
Seriously?
Yeah, I belong to a boxing gym. I go on weekend mornings or any other time I feel like beating the shit out of a heavy bag. It's strangely calming.
Sorry but it has to be said. That is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.
I bite my lip, considering my next move. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m nervous about something other than him for a change, or that I haven’t been nervous around him since the day of our first run more than two weeks ago, or the memory of my head on his shoulder and his head on mine, but I decide to be a little bold.
Me
Is it?
Jeremy
You bet it is.
Well, if you think that’s hot, you should see me in the ring.
You do that?
Sometimes. It’s fun. My gloves are pink.
You’ll have to come see it sometime.
I would…really like that.
I have to go. I’m sitting in the car outside my office right now.
You’ll be amazing, Ems. I’ll be thinking about you.
I could spend some time considering why rereading a handwritten note and a few flirty texts have almost completely eradicated my nerves and replaced them with the kind of butterflies that mean I like a boy and not I’m so nervous about today I want to die , but instead, I grab my bags, push open the door to the car, and walk up the front steps to my office.
I knew Hallie, Julie, and Molly were already here since I saw their cars out front, but what I didn’t expect was to see them sitting around the kitchen island, and for Julie’s mom, Rachel, to be occupying one of the stools. Or the box of donuts sitting in the middle of the island. Morning donuts are reserved for our most important days—lately used mostly for breakfast stories of the sexy variety—so seeing them there has me freezing in the entryway, my emotions bubbling right up to the surface again and my bags dropping to the floor so I can wipe at my eyes.
At the sight of my tears, all three of my friends start to get up from the table, but Rachel motions for them to sit back down and gets up herself. She says nothing at first, just wraps me in a hug, and when her arms are around me, she starts to whisper into my ear.
“It’s a big thing you’re doing today, Emma. Everything you’re feeling is normal. I am so proud of you, honey.”
I close my eyes for a second, soaking in her words and feeling every ounce of the love and affection Rachel exudes in abundance.
When my parents died, I was lucky to have my grandparents step in to raise me. They were loving and supportive and were there for me every step of the way. But what they weren’t, was parents. I forced myself to be okay living without a mom and dad because there was nothing I could do to change it.
Then Rachel Parker stepped into my life.
It was Thanksgiving during my first year of law school. I had recently met Molly, Julie, and Hallie, and we were basically inseparable. A week before the holiday, the four of us got a little drunk on tequila and I let it slip that I was dreading going home. Thanksgiving was my parents’ favorite holiday. Every year we had a special Thanksgiving breakfast just the three of us and then a massive dinner with all my aunts, uncles, and cousins. Friday morning, we went Black Friday shopping together and had brunch at our favorite diner before coming home and spending the rest of the day on the couch in pajamas.
My grandparents tried hard to keep all our traditions going, and most of them made me feel happy, but not Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving was a big fat reminder of what I no longer had, and I hated every minute of it.
When Julie heard that, she demanded I come home with her and refused to take no for an answer. She and Hallie told me their families spent the holiday together every year, and Ben brought his friends too, they said, so it was a big chaotic mess of the families they were born into and the families they were making for themselves. I was too old, Julie insisted, to do things that made me feel terrible. And she was right. I explained it to my grandparents, who only wanted me to do what was best for me.
So, I went to Julie’s house, and two things happened.
I met Julie’s brother Ben’s best friend, a former professional hockey player with scars on his knee, haunted eyes, and a smirk that gave me butterflies.
And I met Rachel Parker.
In Rachel, I found the mom I had been desperate for since I lost my own so young. It didn’t matter to her that I wasn’t her blood or that I was twenty-one years old and could certainly take care of myself. I was Julie’s, so I was hers. As simple as that.
She put my number in her phone, and she used it. She called for no reason and texted to check in. She sent me emails and letters and fun packages when I was drowning in finals. She reminded me to breathe and floss and eat a cupcake after a bad day and call my grandparents to say hi. She checked on me when I was sick and sent presents on my birthday and gave me back things I was so used to living without that I didn’t realize how desperately I had been missing them.
Hallie and Molly are hers too, but Rachel Parker is the kind of mom who gives each of her kids exactly what they need. What I needed was a little extra mothering, to make up for the years when I had none at all.
And she delivered.
So, it makes perfect sense that she would be here today, on the biggest day of my life, giving me the mom hug and the quiet mom words and making me feel like everything will, in fact, be okay.
When we break apart, I ask, “So, you’re not mad I didn’t tell you I was registering to be a foster parent?”
She wraps an arm around my waist and guides me into the kitchen. “Honey this was yours to tell. I’m just glad I can be here for you today and for as long as Maddy is living with you. I’m here to offer my school pickup and drop-off services for times when you’re at work, and whatever else you need. I am definitely not mad about you keeping such an enormous secret from me.”
Julie lets out a full-blown snort. “Yeah right, Mom. As if you didn’t spend twenty minutes complaining to me on the phone last night about how you can’t believe you were left out of the loop.”
I grin as I take my seat at the island. There is nothing Rachel Parker hates more than when something is going on with one of us and she’s not the first to know.
Rachel narrows her eyes at Julie. “You know, I think I liked you better before you married Asher. You were so wrapped up in all your perfection and color-coded spreadsheets that you didn’t have time to give me shit.”
Julie grins good naturedly at her mom. “Well, unluckily for you, he’s obsessed with me, so I think I’ll keep him.”
Rachel chuckles and kisses the top of Julie’s head, giving her a side hug before taking her seat.
“So how do you feel, Em?” Molly pushes a take-out coffee cup and the donut box towards me. “You get the first donut pick.”
I take the coffee but shake my head at the donuts.
“I can’t eat yet.”
Julie reaches across the island and gives my hand a squeeze, her eyes full of understanding. She lives with anxiety, so I knew that of my three friends, she would be the one to really get it.
“Would it help to go over some details?” Hallie asks.
I consider this. “We still have a few hours before she gets here, so maybe in a little bit? I think I just want to be here with you guys for a while.”
“Definitely, there’s plenty of time.”
I take a sip of my coffee, grateful that my stomach decided coffee is acceptable. I need the caffeine after tossing and turning for half the night last night.
“So, Em,” Molly starts, grinning wickedly at me and tossing her long brown curls over her shoulder. I’m preoccupied enough that I don’t immediately know what she’s going to say. But the second she starts talking, I wish I could turn the clock back five minutes and tell Hallie now would be a fine time to go over all the details.
“I heard you were running with Jeremy last night when Hallie called you. Is there a sexy breakfast story in our midst?”
I shoot a look at Hallie. “You told them?”
She just shrugs at me, unbothered. “I didn’t realize it was a secret. I mean, did we or did we not have a whole conversation just yesterday about how you wanted to try and be friends with him?”
“We did, in fact, have that conversation.” Julie studies the pastry box, plucking out an apple donut and taking a bite. “So, was it a friendly run?” she asks through a mouthful of donut.
“Something like that,” I mutter, assaulted again by memories of my head on Jeremy’s shoulder and his pinkie wrapped around mine.
“I sincerely doubt it was all that friendly,” Rachel says with certainty, leaning back in her chair and examining her bright red nails, mischief painted all over her face.
Julie whips her head around to stare at her mom. “What do you know?”
“Jules honey, I think you would have realized by now, I know everything.”
“Okay, well I don’t know anything, so start talking, Mom.”
“Jeremy is Emma’s.” Rachel looks at all of us like the answer is obvious. “I’ve known that since the first Thanksgiving we all spent together when the two of them met.”
All four of us gawk at her, my stomach doing somersaults at her words.
Jeremy is Emma’s .
“Why do you all look so surprised?” Rachel asks. “I would have thought it would be obvious by now. I don’t know what happened all those years ago to make you so uncomfortable around him, but he was stupid for a long time, so I’m absolutely certain it was his fault. That boy has been like a lost puppy begging for your attention for years. Am I right that he has it now?”
I blow out a breath and lean forward, resting my crossed arms on the island.
“You’re spooky, Rachel; you know that, right?”
“Takes one to know one, Em,” Hallie says. “You’re pretty damn spooky yourself sometimes.”
“We just know what we know.” Rachel slides the donut box towards her and picks a strawberry frosted with sprinkles.
“So, what do you know?” Julie and Molly say in unison before bursting out into giggles.
“It was nothing, really. We ran, Hallie called me, we went shopping for stuff for Maddy’s room, and Jeremy came back to my house to help me set it up.” I leave out the part about copious amounts of Chinese food and sitting so close to each other on the couch that a sheet of paper couldn’t have fit between us.
“He wanted to help.” Rachel makes it a statement, not a question.
I nod. “He did.”
“And you let him.”
“It was…nice to have the company. And he seemed to really need to do it.”
Rachel’s eyes soften when she looks at me. “You and Jeremy understand each other, and you are both going to understand this little girl. Let him help you. I think she may just need you both.”
I shift in my seat, considering her words. I do understand him, even if I don’t know his whole story. The lost boy growing up without a family of his own. The gifted athlete who had his sport yanked away from him far too soon. The outwardly cheerful and outgoing guy who hides a part of him that is still a little bit broken. I want to know everything, I realize. I want to know him all the way down.
“If he wants to help, I’m happy to let him.”
“He’ll want,” Rachel says, giving me a satisfied look that tells me she has said everything she wanted to say. And so have I. Not wanting to delve further into the details of last night, I change the subject.
“Hallie, should we talk details now?”
Hallie sits up straight, and I can see the switch she makes from friend mode to lawyer mode.
“Okay, first things first. She’ll be here at three so you can take her home, and Cindy at the Center for Children and Families already set up a time for you to take her to her new school tomorrow morning to meet her teacher. She’ll officially start on Monday.”
“Oh, before I forget!” Julie jumps off her stool and grabs a box on the kitchen counter, handing it to me.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“A booster seat for your car. The small one older kids use when they’re not tall enough for the shoulder belt. Asher ran out and bought it for you last night as soon as I told him what was going on. He wasn’t sure if you would know to buy one. He has a zillion nieces and a nephew, so he knows all the things.”
I didn’t know to buy one. Suddenly the sheer number of things I don’t know about caring for a seven-year-old drops on my shoulders like an anvil and I start to panic a little.
“It’s going to be okay, Em.” Molly’s voice is soft. “We are going to figure it all out together.”
“You won’t be alone,” Julie says. “You have all of us.”
“You certainly do,” Rachel says. “Now, tell us the rest, Hal.”
The panic ebbs just a bit, and it’s replaced by the confidence that with these women by my side, I can get through anything.
This could have been me .
It’s my first thought when Maddy walks through the front door, her hand holding tight to Cindy’s and her eyes cast down at the floor. I meet them at the front door, Rachel and my friends hanging back in the kitchen so we don’t overwhelm Maddy with people.
Her bright red hair is the same color as mine. She’s holding a tattered paperback copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone in her free hand and is wearing a pink backpack, the head of a stuffed dog poking out the top. She has on jeans and a T-shirt, and my heart squeezes at the tiny notebook and pen sticking out of her back pocket. When her lip trembles, my nerves vanish, replaced by an overwhelming instinct to protect this child. To let her know this is a safe place for her and I’m a safe person.
I act without thinking, crouching down so I’m eye level with her.
“Hey, Maddy,” I say softly. “My name is Emma.”