Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
Alex
I’m not exactly getting any younger. And I love Emma. Fuck, I even like her. I could see us having a family. It’s not a stretch of the imagination.
Jess.
It flies through my mind, but I ignore it. Like I’ve been learning how to do. It gets easier each time she breaks my heart. The last time had been the wedding invite.
“I need it, Alex.” As I go to push in, her phone rings, and we both freeze.
Emma’s phone hasn’t so much as vibrated once since I’ve met her. Aside from when I’ve called her. It seems like a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, like she should take the call. I can see it on her face that she wants to, too.
Setting her down, I grab her pants and underwear, and while she reaches to answer the phone, I help her step back into them.
“Hello?” Emma answers, then holds onto my shoulder to step one foot at a time into her panties.
“Hi…Mom,” she says uncomfortably. I only hesitate for a second, then keep helping her get dressed. If she wants privacy, she’ll walk away. But she doesn’t. She keeps holding onto my shoulder for balance. For support.
I’ll be here.
“Umm, thanks?” I can’t hear what her mom says, but I hope it was ‘Happy Birthday.’
“I don’t think I’ve heard from you in a decade. Is there something you need?” I button her jeans as she talks.
“Oh.” It’s somber.
“Wow.” Bad news?
“For how long?” She nods her head.
“Maybe, but I have to go to dinner. My husband’s family is having a thing.” She’s shaking her head now.
“Yeah, almost a year.” She waits. “His name is Alexander, um. But I should go. He’s waiting for me.”
“I don’t think he would say the same,” she pauses, “Yeah. We’ll see, but I need to go. Bye.” And then she hangs up.
My heart rate spikes wondering what the fuck that was about.
Her hands tremble as she sets the phone back down on the closet shelf.
“She said she’s in rehab.” My brow furrows. “And she called to wish me a happy birthday…she wants to meet you, and she wants me to come visit.”
I wait, hoping there’s no fucking way. But when I keep waiting, I ask, “Are you?”
“I don’t honestly know…” I sigh, then with a hand around the back of her neck, I pull her into me and hold her while she processes.
The car ride to Brit’s is silent, and I just hold her hand the whole time. When we arrive, we end up having to park on the road with all the other cars filling the driveway.
As we’re walking to the front door, I tug on her hand, pulling her to a stop. “We can cancel this. I’ll just tell Brit I’m sick.” She looks at me, smiling for the first time since the call.
“I’ve never had a birthday party or even a family gathering for my birthday. Her call reminded me of that. I’m not going to let her derail my night.” There’s my girl. I give her a quick kiss on the forehead, and then the front door opens before we even make it to the porch.
“Uncle AL!” Elodie squeals before running towards us. “Oh my Gawd, you’re like a real-life Rapunzel! I’m so excited to meet you, Emma.” I love Elle. She’s the exact right person to greet us tonight, and just like this. My chest swells with pride over how charming and kind my niece has turned out.
“Emma, this is my niece, Elodie. Elodie, this is Emma.” Elodie immediately reaches in for a hug.
“You smell like vacation. Coconut oil?” Emma laughs at Elodie’s question before answering.
“Yeah, it’s good for the curls. Also, it’s nice to meet you, Elodie.” Linking arms with Emma, Elodie pulls her the rest of the way into the house, and I follow.
“Why aren’t you at school?” I ask.
“No reason…” Suspect.
“Huh,” is all I say back.
Elodie proceeds to chat up Emma, “My sister isn’t here because she hates this place, so you won’t get to meet her. But don’t worry, you’re not missing out on anything.”
“Since when-” I’m stopped from asking, “since when does Caroline hate Spearhead?” Because the front door is opening and the crowd inside the house all shout, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EMMA!”
Emma’s face lights up in surprise. Glad my family could get it together and not treat her like shit today. Constantine is the first to her, giving a big hug.
The brothers all made it. Then there’s Brit and Liam, the baby, and Luna. Liam’s mom and dad are here, and so is their chef, Carly.
And then there’s Delta sitting right beside Emma, waiting for his human to notice him.
“I see you, boy,” she kneels down, letting him lick her face. I love that they love each other. “I missed you, sweetie; I did!” She croons out.
After the crowd disperses around her, Sandy drags her to the kitchen to show her her cake. I let her go, planning to catch up in a couple minutes.
I hug Connie, say hi to the brothers, and then my sister taps my shoulder and points to Liam’s office.
I follow her, and she closes the door.
“Thanksgiving,” she says somberly. I figured I’m not getting an invite this year. Hundred bucks says Jess got one, though. “Jess and Damian are coming.” Winner winner chicken dinner.
My stomach sinks. Still not prepared for it.
“If you and Emma want to come…we can make it work. I’m not going to not invite you. Because you’re my brother, and she’s my sister now, too.” Wonder how long it took Liam telling her that to get her to that conclusion?
“Nah, that’s okay, Brit.” I give her a side hug so she doesn’t feel too bad. Emma has a break that week, so maybe I’ll take her somewhere. Traveling isn’t something we’ve really done together, aside from coming here from Vegas.
And Emma was right; it’s been almost a whole year. We’re just a month shy of our wedding anniversary.
“I feel bad about it. I really do.” I shake my head, though.
“Don’t.” She eyes me skeptically, like I’m taking this too well.
I am. But then I think of Emma. It sort of soothes the sting.
“Things are going good between you two then?”
I nod. “Yeah.” I don’t have any complaints.
“Wow. okay. I just didn’t think it would happen. I had money on you guys divorcing before your first anniversary,” she laughs.
“That’s fucked up, Brit.” Regardless of the accuracy of the assumption, I don’t like that I’m doomed to fail at every relationship in their eyes.
She laughs again, “No! I’m sorry, I just meant. I thought you were doing it to get back at Jess. I didn’t realize that you two were, like, actually…happy…together. Okay, fine, I’m an asshole. I guess I’m just happy you’re happy.” Happy.
Yeah. I am happy.
Am I the happiest? Hard to say.
I think I’m the normal amount of happy. A good amount.
Healthy. There isn’t any back and forth.
There’s never any shouting or fighting. The sex is fucking amazing.
Emma is amazing. And we both exist peacefully together.
We give each other a level of companionship we haven’t had before.
That’s what you’re supposed to want in a life partner.
Isn’t it?
Emma
The kitchen is overwhelming. Carly maneuvers between a crawling baby and a bunch of hot Greek men tasting every dish she touches.
“Put down the spoon, Silas, or so help me god…” The brother I haven’t met before drops the spoon.
He doesn’t look like the rest of his family, the opposite of a black sheep, really.
“Emma, right?” I give him a smile and nod.
“Yeah.”
“I’m Silas,” he extends a corded forearm to shake my hand. He isn’t serious like Max, and he’s not goofy and assured like Niko. But he seems nice. Genuinely.
“Can I help with anything, Carly?” I ask as she swats Niko away from the cake she just frosted.
“Help remove the heathens from my kitchen?” She asks with an apologetic look, like it pains her to ask for help.
I’m about to ask them to make me a drink as a distraction when a booming voice from the back hallway says, “Get out of her kitchen!”
Max, with a phone in his hand, busy typing away, walks through, and everyone clears out of the kitchen, including me.
But he stops me, “Not you, kid, sorry. Also, happy birthday.” I try to do my part, though, and pick up CT from where he’s corralling bits of broken pasta off the floor.
“Yuck,” I tell him as I brush his hands off over the sink, then rinse the bits of dried food away. He giggles.
“Christ! Sorry, Emma.” Liam rounds the corner like he lost the baby. Because he did.
“No problem,” I say, passing the kid over to his dad.
“Alright, I’ve got one dirty Shirley for the birthday girl.” Sandy, who is Liam’s mom — I think — passes me what looks like a Shirley Temple. It’s hard to keep track of who belongs to who around here.
“Thank you so much.”
“Now, how is it that you’ve lived here almost a full year, and I haven’t seen you around?” She stands with a hand on her hip and an eyebrow arched.
“I guess I’m just a hermit?” I shrug.
“Y’all are two peas in a pod, aren’t you?” I assume she means Alex. And we are. Seriously.
“We get along well, yes.” She laughs, this beautiful laugh. She has one of those great laughs that just endears you to her immediately. I like her. Innately. She seems like someone who is salt of the Earth, good people.
And then I’m reminded of someone else laughing and a soothing Southern accent wafting over to console her. Jess. Will I ever make it out of her shadow?
“Come get coffee at the shop sometime. I could always use a chat with a friendly face. Ever since the girls went back to school, and Jess and Eden moved away…It gets lonely in the winter around here.” It slips out of her mouth without thought and no ill will.
But the sinking feeling is there all the same. Eden. That’s a pretty name. I can picture a little girl toddling around the floral wallpapered room in our house. A room that we never talk about. The door is always kept closed. Like it doesn’t exist.
But it existed for them.
“Yeah, I’ll have to come by sometime. Usually, Alex makes my coffee to-go before I leave for class so I don’t have to stop.” So I didn’t have to stop…
“Hey, sorry. Was talking to Brit, what’d I miss?” He puts a hand on the small of my back.
“Nothing.” I give him a soft smile. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t want me going by The Grounds. I don’t really want to go anyway. I just wonder if he did it for my benefit…or hers.
The stinging in my chest told me it was probably for hers.
“What would you do if Ray ever reached out to you?” I ask as we drive home from Brit’s, way past our regular bedtime.
“I know exactly what I’d do. Because he did.” I stare at him. He hasn’t told me this.
“And what happened?”
“I visited him in prison.”
“You did?” Picturing Alex visiting that man all alone breaks my heart.
“He was sober, and he apologized. I asked if he called Brit and apologized to her too…” I forget that Brit, with her happy, healthy, jovial family, came from that fucked up mess too.
I feel slightly more sympathetic to her inability to be nice to me.
Not that she hadn’t been nice tonight. She had.
She even gave me a birthday gift. Surprisingly.
“He told me she was probably better off not knowing him. So I got up and left and never looked back.” Wow.
“He couldn’t own up to his mistakes in the end, and I had no interest in a relationship. It’s easy to forget he still exists.”
“He said sorry, though?” I reach over, massaging his neck.
“Yup.”
“Did you believe him?” He inhales deeply, thinking.
He starts shaking his head, then says, “No.” Oh.
“I think that’s my fear. I’ll go see her.
She’ll say sorry…but I won’t believe her.
OR she won’t say sorry at all. She’ll just brush it under the rug.
Like one phone call for the first time in years would be enough to make it all okay.
And then it’ll just make me mad. Which would be a setback because I’m done being mad about it.
I don’t want to be mad again. I don’t want her to even have that power over me. ”
“Some people, baby,” he looks at me, “are irredeemable. And some are just people who have done bad things.” I squeeze his neck tight.
“I hope you know you’re a good man. You know that, right?” I tell him because I want it burned on his brain. I want to tattoo it on his soul. For all the disbelieving he does, or did, that he isn’t worthy, he is. He is so good.
He pulls over to the side of the road, putting the truck in park, and Delta barks at the jolt.
“Come here.” He takes my face in his hands and pours himself into me. A kiss made up of a lifetime of failures but good intentions. I would take it from him any day of the week. No questions asked.
Once we’re home, we get ready for bed. Him at his sink, me at mine.
Afterward, I strip down, leaving my panties but opting for a boxy cropped tee on top. He watches me. And then I watch him undress in turn, leaving only his boxer briefs on.
We come together in bed. His chest to my back.
And I whisper to him, “This was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
“I’m glad,” he whispers back. Eventually I listen to his breathing deepen as his limbs get heavy, and his peaceful slumber pulls me into my own.