Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Emma
I park my car at the Beechwood Boulevard entrance to Frick Park where Jeremy is sitting on the low stone wall that divides the park and the sidewalk. His shorts are gray this time, and his shirt has the Fireside logo on it, but the hat is the same black Renegades hat he was wearing last time. It’s backward again, making my stomach flutter involuntarily. Or maybe it’s just the after-effects of my afternoon of tacos and tequila. It’s probably that. Definitely.
Keep telling yourself that .
He grins when he sees me, hopping down from the wall. His shorts ride up slightly, and I get a glimpse of the network of scars bisecting his knee from the surgeries he had to have after his hockey injury and the black ink on his thigh. I’m too far away to make out the design, but it doesn’t matter. It’s a thigh tattoo. It’s unfair, really, just how hot that is.
Be cool Emma. Friends first.
It’s possible the friends thing is easier conceptually than in reality.
Before I have a chance to open the car door, Jeremy is right there doing it for me. He holds out his hand to help me out of the car, and I squash down my instinct to avoid eye contact. Forgiving myself and him means losing my habitual awkwardness when we’re around each other. Also easier conceptually than in reality, but we can do hard things, right?
When I take his hand, tingles race up my arm from that small point of contact, startling me so much that I drop his hand and glance up at him to see if he felt what I felt. One look at the flash in his gold rimmed brown eyes tells me he absolutely did. But he recovers quickly, the flash replaced by a friendly smile that, strangely, puts me right at ease.
“Thanks for coming, Ems.” He reaches around me and closes the door, plucking my key from my hand and hitting the button to lock the car before handing the key back to me. I shove it in the pocket of my running shorts with my phone.
“Thanks for asking.”
“Do you usually run alone?” He asks, as we make our way over to the trail entrance just inside the park.
“Almost always. Occasionally one of my friends comes with me, but I’ve always liked to run alone. I didn’t mind running with you though,” I add.
He smiles and bumps my shoulder with his as we approach the trail. “I didn’t mind running with you either. It was…” He trails off, looking unsure.
“Easy.” I give him the word that swims in my head every time I think about that run, and the night that came after. “It was easy.”
“Yeah,” he says, giving me a soft look that has my stomach swooping again. “That’s exactly what it was. I liked being easy with you, Ems. You ready?” He waves a hand at the trail.
“Definitely.” I need to move my body to banish the butterflies that keep wanting to swarm my stomach at his proximity.
We set off at an easy jog. It’s beautiful out, the first hints of fall giving the air a crisp feeling. We’re the only ones out right now, the rustling of the trees and our steady footfalls on the trail the only sounds. I slide my eyes to the right, sneaking a glance at Jeremy, and I find him already looking at me. He tosses me a wink, and I always thought weak in the knees was just an expression, but it turns out there’s some truth to it after all.
Whipping my head around, I stare almost aggressively forward, and I hear Jeremy’s soft chuckle next to me, like he saw exactly how that wink affected me and is amused by it.
“So how was your day?”
I risk another look at him. “You want to know about my day?”
“Of course I want to know about your day. I want to know everything about you.” His face turns slightly red, and he looks a little embarrassed, as if he didn’t mean to say that last thing. And god, someone take a picture please because the big, bad, former athlete blushing is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
“We tried on our dresses for Hallie and Ben’s wedding today.”
It seems like the easiest place to start since, I had an existential crisis over the note you left me on my coffee table and then spilled my guts to my friends about how I had sex with you eight years ago is a little much for a trail run between friends.
“Julie had them delivered to the office so we could try them on. We were supposed to put them on and go downstairs together so Hallie could get the full impact, but we ended up taking too long, so she got impatient and came upstairs before we were all the way dressed. It was very us. A little chaotic. A few happy tears. A lot of fun.”
I smile at the memory. Even though the reason we took so long was because of my angst over the man currently running next to me, it’s laughing with my friends and the look on Hallie’s face when she saw us all in our dresses that sticks in my mind.
“It’s special, the way you four are together.”
I glance over at him, surprised by the longing I hear in his voice. “It is. But you have it too with Ben and Jordan, but especially Ben. I see it all the time. They’re your brothers just as much as Hallie, Julie, and Molly are my sisters.”
“I guess.” He huffs out a breath, discomfort rolling off him. I don’t say anything, hoping he’ll keep talking.
“Sometimes it’s…hard for me to think like that. To believe that’s true.”
I consider his words. I don’t know a lot about Jeremy’s past beyond the fact that he grew up without parents, and he didn’t exactly have the strong support system I did to help me heal from that loss. I get the sense he doesn’t like talking about it, and even the small bit of himself he just revealed is monumental. I choose my next words carefully.
“Tell me something true, Jeremy.”
He glances over at me then back at the trail ahead.
“You asked me to tell you something true the night of the storm too. Why?”
He doesn’t seem put off, just curious, so I decide to give him a piece of me too.
“It’s something my grandma used to ask me after my parents died. Eight is a weird age. It’s old enough to understand what’s happening, but too young to be able to grasp the fact that sometimes bad things just happen, and there’s nothing we can do to change it.”
I pause for a second to catch my breath. We’ve picked up the pace a little as we get warm and it’s just above a comfortable conversation pace. It feels good, though, to move like this with Jeremy next to me, our habitual awkwardness melting away.
“I used to go through all these scenarios in my head. What if I had plans to sleep over at my grandparents’ house instead of going home so my parents didn’t have to come pick me up? What if one of them got a phone call and had to stay at the office a little longer? What if the truck had hit a red light earlier and not been at that exact point on the highway at that exact time. All the what ifs were too much for my eight-year-old brain to process, and I would go into an anxiety spiral that would sometimes last for hours. So, when my grandma saw it happening, she would ask me to tell her something true. I guess maybe it was her way of having me focus on the facts rather than the unknown. I never really asked her why she did it. I just know it worked. The question always made me feel grounded. Like as long as I could point to something true, I was in control of something at a time in my life when everything felt so out of control.
“You said it was hard for you to believe it’s true that Ben is your brother. It’s okay to feel like that. But tell me something you know is true.”
It takes a couple strides for me to realize Jeremy is no longer next to me. I stop running and turn to see him frozen on the trail, staring at me.
“What is it?”
“I think you’re the smartest person I know, Ems.”
I fidget, his gaze like an itch between my shoulder blades I can’t reach.
“I’m really not. Molly is way smarter than I am. She has entire portions of the tax code memorized.”
“That’s just the luck of a photographic memory. You’re smart about people. You see things no one else does. I think you always have. I’m right about that, aren’t I?”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to hang on to the ease between us.
“I’ve always…felt things, I guess? Like, I can feel what other people are feeling. Some people call it being an empath, but I’ve always thought that name was weird. It’s not supernatural; it’s mostly just paying attention.”
“Huh.” Jeremy gets a thoughtful look on his face. “That must get hard sometimes. Taking on other people’s feelings like that.”
I take a second before I answer, surprised at his intuition. “I think it helps me to be a good friend, and it’s definitely helped me in my career. But it can be a lot sometimes. It’s part of the reason I run. When it gets heavy to carry my feelings and everyone else’s, I come here.”
“Here is the best place,” Jeremy says, glancing around at the still empty trail.
“It is. It’s always been my most sacred place, and this is my favorite time of day. A little before sunset, when the sun is lower in the sky and the light is all soft and golden like this. Photographers call it magic hour, and I think it really is. It’s the time of day where anything seems possible. Like magic could actually exist. So, tell me something true in the best place, at the most magical time of day.”
Our gazes lock, and the hunger in his eyes sends a shiver running down my spine, but not out of fear. No, this shiver is lust and desire and want . Right here in the woods, with his spicy scent surrounding me and our breathing just a little faster than normal from the exertion of exercise, I want this man fiercely.
But as quickly as the hunger burned, it’s gone, replaced by something that looks a lot like appreciation, and I’m relieved because friends, Emma.
When he speaks, his voice is filled with warmth.
“I’ve always liked running alone, but I think my new favorite thing is running with you.”
I smile at that; it’s like he plucked the thought right out of my head.
“Me too.”
“Want to keep going?”
“Definitely.”
We set off again, a relaxed silence falling between us as we find our pace. We’ve probably run another mile or so when my phone rings. I toss Jeremy an apologetic glance.
“Sorry, it might be my grandma. She knows I run at this time of day, and I always text her afterwards. If she doesn’t hear from me by a certain time, she calls to make sure I haven’t been, like, kidnapped on the trail or anything. She’s a little protective.”
Jeremy chuckles. “That’s really nice. You should get it.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket and glance at the display. But it’s not my grandma. I flash the phone at Jeremy to show him Hallie’s name before I swipe to answer. We’re all texters. If she’s calling me, it’s important.
“Hey, Hal, what’s up?”
“Em, where are you?”
“I’m running with Jeremy. Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine, but I just got a call from Cindy, my contact at the Center for Children and Families.”
I take a sharp breath in because I know exactly what Hallie is about to say. I can feel the shift through the phone.
There must be something on my face that gives away my feelings because Jeremy reaches out and takes my free hand, curling his fingers around mine. I glance up at him, grateful for his touch that grounds me to this moment when I know my life is about to change.
“It’s happening already?” I ask Hallie.
“It is. There’s a seven-year-old girl who needs an emergency foster placement. Her mom died when she was a baby, and her dad is serving time for drug offenses. Apparently, he fell apart when he lost his wife and he’s been on a downward spiral ever since. There’s no other family in the picture, and she has been in foster care for the last five years. Her current foster parents are moving out of state, so she needs a new home. Cindy thought you would be a good match for her. You can say no if you don’t feel like you’re ready. I know this is fast.”
“No,” I say quickly. “This is why I went through the whole process, Hallie. I’m ready. I can do this.”
“Okay. This one is a little unusual, though. Even though it’s an emergency placement, it’s not as time sensitive as they usually are. She’s spending one more night at her current foster home and will be moving to your house tomorrow afternoon. I asked Cindy if she could bring her to our office so you can meet her there. I thought it might be a warmer, happier place for her to meet you for the first time than at Cindy’s office. She’ll be here at three.”
“I appreciate that. Seven, you said?”
“Yeah. Cindy said she likes art. And dogs.”
I blow out a breath, trying to calm my racing heart. It’s more than some foster parents get to know about the kids who come to live with them. I can work with this.
“I guess I have some shopping to do.”
“I’m really proud of you, Em. Will you call me if you need me?”
“I will. Oh, and Hallie?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s her name?”
“Madison. Cindy called her Maddy.”
“Maddy. Pretty. Hallie, can you tell Jules and Molly what’s going on? I haven’t told them about this yet, so it’ll be a pretty big surprise.”
“Of course, and they’ll be fine. We’re all here to help you; you’re not alone in this. I’ll see you tomorrow, Em.”
“Thanks, Hal. See you tomorrow.”
I end the call, staring at my phone for a beat, gathering my thoughts. This is happening.
“Everything okay?”
I slowly lift my head, meeting Jeremy’s concerned eyes. It occurs to me that aside from Hallie, who helped me with the whole process, Jeremy will be the first person to find out. It seems appropriate, somehow.
“A month ago, I was approved to be a foster parent.”
“Ems,” Jeremy breathes. “That’s…huge.”
“It is. It’s something I’ve been thinking about doing for a long time. I knew a little about the process from the pro-bono work Hallie has done over the years, and when she moved to family law full time, I decided to go for it. She helped me with the whole process—the paperwork and prepping for the home visit, and all the training and everything. When I got approved, they said it could be anything from days to years before a child was placed at my house, but there’s a little girl who needs a home now. And apparently that home is my home.”
I see everything I feel reflected back at me from Jeremy’s eyes and for a second, we’re not Emma and Jeremy, full grown adults standing on a running trail at dusk. We’re Emma and Jeremy, two little kids, lost and afraid, who know exactly what it’s like to need a home because the one you had isn’t available to you anymore.
“Her name is Maddy,” I whisper, not trusting my voice just yet. “She likes art. And dogs. She’s coming tomorrow.” I take a deep breath and clear my throat, trying to get a hold of my emotions.
“I have a room ready—you have to set one up as part of the approval process. But it’s pretty neutral since kids of any age or gender can be placed. I don’t know a lot about her, or even how long she’ll be with me, but I think maybe I want to go buy a couple things, make the room more hers. Are you okay if we cut this run short and head back now?”
“Can I…come with you? Help you set up her room?” Jeremy’s voice is rough, his eyes dark pools of feeling.
“You want to go shopping with me?”
“I really do. I was once a foster kid. I would have given anything to have a foster parent who cared enough to buy me something to make me feel more comfortable in a new home. If it’s okay with you, I want to help.” He fidgets uncomfortably, eyes glossing over the tiniest bit. He blinks quickly to clear them, but I saw it, and the way his eyes widen a bit makes me think he knows I did.
I look at him and my heart aches for the sweet boy I see in the face of this beautiful man, clearly struggling to reveal the side of himself that might still be a little broken from his past. When I take a step forward and put my arms around him, I’m hugging them both.
He returns the hug immediately, shuddering out a breath and laying his cheek on top of my head as his arms wrap around my shoulders.
“I’d like you to come,” I say into his chest.
His arms tighten, heartbeat thudding against me. When he speaks, his voice is soft and full of gratitude.
“Thank you.”