Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Emma
T wo weeks after Hallie’s wedding dress fitting, I’m at one of my favorite places in the city, the running trails at Frick Park. Running has always been the way I get out of my own head, my constant companion during every stage of my life. It especially helps when it feels like my body is too small to hold all my feelings, which is often.
I was eight years old the first time I ran, on the day of my parents’ funeral. Afterward, my whole family went back to my grandparents’ house, aunts, uncles, and cousins scattering all around the first floor. There were hugs and whispered conversations and so many tears and, in the case of some relative or other who I swear barely even knew my parents, actual wailing. I was curled up in the corner of the living room couch trying to make myself as small as possible. I thought if I could make myself tiny enough, I could keep everyone else’s feelings from overtaking my brain that still hadn’t processed the fact that the two people I loved most in the world were gone.
It didn’t work, of course. Everyone wanted to take care of me, and I hated that because there were only two people I wanted to take care of me but they weren’t available anymore. They all kept asking me if I was hungry, which I wasn’t. And they wanted to know if I was okay, and I remember thinking how stupid that question was because of course I wasn’t okay. It doesn’t take much for me to remember how I wanted to cry, yell, and scream at the injustice of it all. I don’t think I even felt sad. I was angry, and that anger buzzed like electric volts under my skin, making it nearly impossible to sit still. And when the fifth aunt approached me with a plate of food I didn’t want, it all finally became too much. Without a word, I jumped up from the couch, went straight out the front door, and started to run.
I circled my grandparents’ Cleveland, Ohio block over and over again, the sneakers I insisted on wearing to the funeral instead of dress shoes slapping against the pavement and the fall breeze cool on my face. With every turn around the block, the weight on my chest got a little lighter, and I could breathe a little easier. My brain cleared, and I could think a little straighter. When I finally stopped running, my grandparents, Mimi and Pop, were waiting for me on the front porch. I walked straight into their arms, and for the first time since my parents died, I cried.
I ran every day for months after that first time, my laps around the block gradually stretching out to laps around the neighborhood. Sometimes Mimi or Pop would run silently alongside me, knowing that my runs were not time for conversation. And if they didn’t, they would always be waiting for me on the front porch when I got home, glass of water in hand, and ready with a hug if I needed it. They always seemed to know what I needed. They still do. If I couldn’t have my parents, I was lucky to be blessed with the greatest grandparents in the world.
As if on cue, my phone beeps. I stop running to pull it out of my shorts pocket and check the message.
Mimi
Ready for the big date tonight Emma love?
I groan at the reminder of why I’m out on the trail at six-thirty on a Saturday morning when I’m usually an evening run kind of girl.
The whole thing started off innocently enough. I was at a fundraiser last week for an organization I represent in my practice. For me, social events are the worst kind of hell, but the executive director is a friend of Mimi’s, and when she invited me to the fundraiser, I couldn’t say no. I was doing my best to blend in with the wall, my signature move at parties, when a guy came up and asked me to dance. Normally I would say no, but he was tall and had the lightest blue eyes I had ever seen, and this messy brown hair. He was hot in a preppy, clean-cut kind of way, and I haven’t had sex in forever. The way he was moving on the dance floor made me think he would be really good at it and, well, I’m human. The next thing I knew, he was asking me out and I think all the hotness made me stupid because I said yes. I never date, and the anxiety over this one woke me up before sunrise and had me lacing up my running shoes.
Me
You’re kidding right?
Mimi
I would never kid about potential great-grandchildren.
I snort out a laugh, which is a refreshing change to my pre-date dread.
Me
You know one date does not automatically equal great-grandchildren, right?
Mimi
Well, no dates definitely doesn’t equal great-grandchildren, so this is a step in the right direction.
Don’t hold your breath. I’ve almost canceled ten times in the last week.
Well, it’s too late now. Cancelling at the last minute would be rude. Go on the date. Have a drink. What’s the worst that could happen?
I could forget how to speak and the whole thing could devolve into an awkward mess?
Well, at least it’s good to know you’ve got your worst-case scenario firmly in place.
Aim high, I always say. I’m running, so I’ll text you later.
Text me when you get home tonight, so I know you’re home safe.
Always. Love you. Kiss Pop for me.
Love you too, girlie.
I stash my phone and take off again, my feet pounding the trail as I push my pace, but I’m interrupted again almost immediately.
“Ems?”
I whip around at the voice and see Jeremy jogging down the path towards me. Fucking great. An awkward morning before what is sure to be an awkward night is exactly what I need right now. I force myself to smile and meet Jeremy’s eyes. Not the easiest thing to do without a desk between us.
“Hey, Jeremy.” He catches up to me and slows his pace to match mine. He looks unfairly good today. A backwards hat covers his dark hair, and his jaw is shadowed in stubble like he didn’t take the time to shave yet this morning. He’s wearing loose athletic shorts, and an old, faded University of Pittsburgh t-shirt stretched tight across his muscular chest. I rarely take the time to actually look at him, but the whole sporty look is really doing it for me, and I get an unwelcome tug of attraction in my belly. Feeling my cheeks heat, I break eye contact and look ahead.
“You run?”
The question takes me by surprise. Me being a runner is a core Emma fact, although I guess since any meaningful conversation I’ve had with Jeremy for the past eight years has been work-related, he might not know this about me.
“Every day, right here.”
“Me too. Why have I never seen you on the trail?”
Somehow, it’s easier to talk to him like this, with my head clear from the run and my eyes fixed on the trail ahead. The only thing is that the wind keeps blowing from his direction, sending the scent of him towards me. It’s a mixture of clean sweat and body wash and the spicy tang of his deodorant and the combination is both distracting and intoxicatingly good.
“I usually run in the evening. I’ve never been much of a morning person.”
“Six-thirty in the morning is really early for not a morning person. Why are you out so early today?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I mumble, feeling regretful all over again about the date.
“Something on your mind?”
“I have a date tonight,” I blurt out and immediately regret it. Stupid, clear, filterless brain. I immediately force my thoughts away from the reason why I don’t want Jeremy to know I have a date tonight, telling myself it’s just because it probably won’t work out and I don’t want to be embarrassed about it. Not for any other reason. Definitely not. I groan inwardly.
“You have a date?” His voice is low and a little growly. I sneak a glance at him and his eyes are stormy, a muscle ticking in his jaw. I don’t know what it is about this morning, and it’s out of character for me, but I can’t resist needling him a little bit.
“I do. Met him at a fundraiser I was at for a client. Asked me out on the dance floor. He’s a lawyer too. Corporate. Really good looking.”
“You don’t say,” Jeremy mutters. “And what is this corporate lawyer’s name?”
“Thad.”
“Last name?”
“Why do you care?” I know why he cares, but I’m curious about his answer. Besides, this might be the longest regular conversation we’ve ever had without me turning into an awkward mess, and I don’t hate it.
“I just…do.”
“Windsor.”
Jeremy snorts out a laugh. “And is Thad Windsor taking you out on the family yacht? Or maybe to a country club for a round of golf?”
I can’t help but laugh because I had the same thought when Thad told me this name the night we met.
“It is kind of a pretentious name, but he’s a nice guy. And we’re having drinks at a new wine bar downtown.”
“He couldn’t even spring for dinner?” Jeremy’s voice drips with disdain.
“He asked, but I said no. Drinks can be quick in case it’s terrible.”
“Do you expect it to be terrible?”
“You can never anticipate that kind of thing. Best to be prepared,” I muse. “And it’s a restaurant too in case it’s not terrible.”
We lapse into silence after that, the only sounds rustling leaves, our steady breathing, and sneakers hitting the trail. Except for those first months when one of my grandparents would run with me occasionally, I always run alone, but it’s surprisingly nice to share the run with another person who doesn’t feel like he has to fill the silence with words. I’ve never understood why so many people are uncomfortable with silence, and it seems like maybe Jeremy is okay with the quiet too. I always thought he might be. Quiet Jeremy is nice. Jeremy isn’t someone I have ever felt at ease with, but I feel like I could be easy with this version of him.
I get the feeling this Jeremy might be the real Jeremy.
Before long, we’re rounding the loop back to where we started. And as if in silent agreement, we both stop, taking a minute to catch our breath by the stone wall at the trail entrance. I look down at my feet, not ready to meet his eyes. Not ready to shatter the ease I feel with him for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever.
“Do the girls know where you’ll be tonight?”
“Why do you ask?” My eyes are still fixed firmly on my feet.
“Because you’re going out with a stranger. Someone should know where you are.”
“They know where I’ll be, but it won’t matter. Molly is in L.A. visiting her family, Jules is with Asher in Boulder for the weekend with his family, and Hallie leaves this afternoon for a conference. I’ll be fine.” I focus intently on stretching out my hamstrings.
Jeremy puts a finger under my chin, tipping my face up so our eyes meet. His light brown eyes are ringed with gold and are steady on mine. My face flushes at the eye contact, and I’m immediately frustrated with myself for not being able to hold on to the ease we found during our run.
“Call me, okay?”
“Call you for what?” My voice is almost a whisper, but I can’t make it sound normal when my whole body is buzzing at the eye contact with a mixture of unease and something else I’m too afraid to try and name.
“For anything. If something goes wrong or the date is bad and you need someone to pick you up. Anything. So you don’t feel like you’re stranded alone downtown with all your friends away and no one to call.”
I take a deep breath, pulling myself together. “Thank you, but it’s just one date and I’m driving myself. Everything will be fine.”
He shrugs, letting his hand drop away from my face. “Probably. But better to be safe, right? You have my number. Use it if you need it. You need a ride home?” He gestures towards his Jeep parked by the entrance to the trail.
“No, I’m parked down the block.”
“Okay, have a good day Ems. And a good date.”
He turns towards his car but seems to hesitate, turning back to me. He looks at me for a few seconds and his eyebrows draw together, as if he is having a silent argument with himself. Then, without a word, he leans in and kisses me on the cheek before breaking away and heading back to his car with a smile on his face, tossing, “Catch you later, Ems. Thanks for the run” over his shoulder.
I’m rooted to the spot as he gives me a final wave before he slides into the car and starts the engine. As he pulls away, my hand drifts up to my face, covering the spot he kissed. And even though he barely brushed my skin, I swear I can still feel the imprint of his kiss long after his car is out of sight.