Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EMMA
Conversation with Nicole
Stop trying to convince Seamus to bail on his job.
You and I both know he’s going to be HILARIOUS as Ellie’s assistant.
Like, why didn’t I think of that in the first place?
He shouldn’t do it if he’s sick.
Oh, he’ll be fine.
Guess what?
I special-ordered Jeffrey a cactus from Ellie. Get it?
It’s like the one you threw at his head. He’ll think she’s taunting him.
You get it, right?
How’d you know about the cactus?
I know everything.
You want them to come, don’t you? What if he gets pissed off and refuses?
Walking a fine line is what I do best.
On Tuesday, I go to the pet store and spend an obscene amount of money on Shadow, then to the veterinarian, where I spend more money on her, only to be told she’s in perfect health despite having lived in a wall for an indeterminate amount of time.
I keep thinking about Seamus.
He’s almost certainly not taking care of himself, right?
I tell myself Chuck is like Martha Stewart if she were nice. He’ll choke Seamus with kindness and tea and pillows. It’s not my job to make a man take care of himself.
On Wednesday night, I send food over to his apartment. There’s no response, although I get notified that the food was left with them. So I cave in the early evening and text him:
Are you dead?
No response.
About an hour later, I write,
I’m going to assume you’re dead if you don’t respond in the next half hour. If you’re dead, you definitely won’t mind if I fill your flask with Midori.
When there’s no response to that, I start to really worry.
I’d thought the Midori threat was a slam-dunk. That flask has never tasted anything but the very best whiskey.
Has he fallen and hit his head again?
Is he still planning to help with Jeffrey and Ellie when he can’t answer a simple text message?
Do I even want him to?
Part of me wants to press pause on this whole insane plan. I don’t want to give Jeffrey the opportunity to take anything else from me, if things go wrong. At the same time, I don’t want to let him get away with it. If he does, he’ll bamboozle someone else. Who knows how many lives he’s already ruined, while maintaining his own reputation?
I want him to go down, and I want to be part of it. But my mind keeps wandering from the Jeffrey-Ellie problem to Seamus. I don’t like that he’s unwell. I hate the memory of him lying helpless on that carpet…
“You’re very tense,” my mother comments to me over dinner. Rosie and Anthony are with us, so tonight my mother’s chef, who normally makes meal deliveries for us twice a week, is actually working in the kitchen. It felt strange to walk past the kitchen earlier and see—and smell—it in use. Almost as if the house were becoming real in a way it has never been before.
“No, I’m not.”
“Do you normally keep cats on leash while you’re eating dinner?” Rosie asks with a sparkle in her eyes.
Okay, fine. I may be the slightest bit tense.
I’ve been walking Shadow around on a leash all day because I’m worried she’ll disappear into the walls again. The consensus online is that cats will keep coming back if you feed them well, so I gave her a tin can of imported tuna for dinner.
I might not have wanted a cat, but I admire Shadow’s hustle. She managed to climb into the walls of this house, for goodness’s sake. Doesn’t that kind of scrappiness deserve a reward?
I hate the thought of her being alone again, cold and skinny and frightened. Those are feelings I never want anyone to have in this house again.
“Well?” my mother presses.
“Mother, you almost killed Rosie’s brother the other day, and we found out the ghost living in Father’s study was a cat. It’s been quite a week.”
“It’s okay,” Rosie says after she finishes making orgasmic noises while eating a piece of ravioli. From the way my brother’s looking at her, I’m glad they’re not planning on staying the night. “Seamus has a hard head. Besides, he told me yesterday that he and Claire’s dad were having lunch with some ladies, so I’m guessing he feels fine.”
“Oh,” I say, trying not to sound like I give a shit. I shouldn’t. I knew he was an incurable flirt from the moment I met him, not to mention a few choice remarks Rosie has dropped. She’s also told me that he can get self-destructive when he’s upset. It’s mortifying to consider the possibility that she may have been low-key warning me off.
Sure, Seamus made a big deal about wanting to take care of Shadow together, but that was probably mostly bullshit. Or the ravings of a concussion-blasted mind. “Well…that’s good. I’m glad he’s eating.”
“Which ladies?” my mother asks sharply, setting her fork down with a clank against the side of her porcelain dish. Her eyebrows are as knit together as they’ll go.
“I don’t know,” Rosie says carelessly. “Some women they met at the hospital after dropping off flowers. Shay’s always befriending people everywhere.”
“How interesting ,” Mother says.
“Is it interesting?” Anthony asks, shifting my attention to him. His mouth has a wry twist, and he’s wearing a sweater Rosie must have bought for him, because it has two whole colors in it and neither of them are black or gray. He still has the trimmed beard he grew just before meeting her, but his looks aren’t the only aspect of him she’s changed. Before Rosie, he was sullen and discontent. Restless. Consumed by remorse. Now…
I have to admit that marriage has changed him for the better. He’s smiled more in the last three months than the rest of his life combined.
Rosie gives my mother an impish look and asks, “How’s that app working for you? Anthony had fun working on the notifications for you the other day. He flinches every time he sees a cell phone. I think he has dating app PTSD.”
“I can confirm that I do,” Anthony says, helping himself to a roll. They’re delicious, probably because no one in this house made them.
“Yes, I suppose he did see some interesting photos,” my mother says with a snort. “Those men were awfully proud of themselves, aren’t they? Even when there’s no call for it. If you’ve seen one phallus, you’ve seen them all. They all look the same. But I’ve deleted the app.”
I nearly drop my fork.
“Aw, really?” Rosie asks, frowning. “I was hoping we could all get a little tipsy and spend a few hours going through it and making dates.”
“Yeah, that was never going to happen,” Anthony says, although I doubt him. I think he’d do just about anything his wife asked.
“Mom,” I say. “Why’d you delete it? Are you interested in someone?”
“We’ll see,” she says primly. “There’s something to be said for doing things the old-fashioned way.”
“What about Chuck?” I ask, deciding to go for gold.
“Ooh, good one, Emma,” Rosie says. “Why bother with NoBlueBillsRequired and those other dick-pic-happy guys when you have a silver fox who cooks. Remember that crème br?lée from the other night?”
My mother actually gets a little flustered as she rearranged her napkin and then says, “Yes, well, he’s coming here on Friday to teach me how to make it.”
Anthony drops his fork. “You’re going to cook?”
“I’m sure it’s very simple,” she says frostily.
“Uh, I don’t think so,” I put in. I may not cook or bake much myself, but I find the shows relaxing sometimes. Crème br?lée is not a beginner dessert.
“It doesn’t matter,” Rosie says, excited. “It’s a pretext to get him alone in the house.”
“Really, Rosie,” my mother says. “You make me sound like a predator.”
“There’ll be no need for predation,” Rosie replies. “He’s into you. He kept talking to you all night. No one could get a word in.”
“We’ll see.” My mother looks pleased, though, as she sips her wine. Then she turns her laser-like focus on me. “Emma, dear, I’m sure you’ll have something to say about all of this. I know you’d prefer it if I let everything shrivel up and started walking around with a cat on a leash.”
Anthony makes a pained noise, but my eyes are fixed on my mother’s, even though I’m very aware of Shadow’s leash in my hand.
“No, Mom, I just want you to be happy. Chuck seems like a good guy. If you like him, I think you should give him a shot.”
Her eyes widen.
“But, you know, it goes without saying that I don’t think you should drive off to Vegas and get married.”
“No, dear,” she says wryly. “It would be a terribly long drive. I’d fly first class. Now, I’ve booked several spa treatments for you for Friday. Take the time to relax while our friends get everything arranged for Operation Love Destroyers.”
“Are you sending her away early so you can spend all day preparing for your date?” Rosie gushes. “This is giving me life, I swear. Will you tell us everything?”
Anthony’s eyes widen in panic, and my mother gives a Mona Lisa smile as she picks up her wine and takes a sip. “Is my son keeping you so bored that you need to find excitement in such things?”
Before they leave, Anthony pulls me aside, telling me he wants to take a look at the hole in the wall of our father’s office. My mother is all too happy for him to do it, because she’s hoping one of the other men in our lives will take care of it so we don’t have to wait for Seamus to get better. I’m tempted to try taking care of it myself, but I have to admit I have less upper arm strength than the task requires.
Of course, Anthony barely looks at hole in the wall once he gets me in there.
“This was a ruse, wasn’t it?” I ask, amused. “I’m telling Mom.”
“You wouldn’t,” he says. “I just wanted to check on you. You’ve been acting a little…” He rubs his beard. “I don’t know. There’s something different about you.”
“Is this because I’m still walking my cat on a leash?”
Shadow scratches at my leg in displeasure, so I scoop her up into my arms.
“Yes, the cat’s definitely part of it,” he says. “But it feels like this whole situation is getting out of hand. Are you sure you want to go this route? We can take care of Jeffrey another way.”
“Thank you for saying we,” I tell him.
“Whatever happens, we will take care of him,” he says gruffly, and my heart warms. My father had driven a wedge between Anthony and me, and I’d widened it when I’d told my brother exactly what I thought about his ex-fiancée. It felt like something had shifted between us, though, and here was the proof. My big brother wanted to protect me.
My throat got tight with emotion. “Thanks. I think I needed to hear that.”
He smiles at me. “Any time you want platitudes, I’m your guy. I mean it, though. I’m not going to let him get away with this.”
“I know you mean it,” I say, bringing Shadow up so she’s just beneath my chin, warm and soft.
Being here, it’s impossible not to think of Seamus pulling Shadow out of that wall as if she were a baby being born. It was one of those moments I’ll think about for the rest of my life.
Smiling at my brother, I find myself saying, “But it feels like everything is happening the way it’s supposed to, don’t you think?”
He glances at the gaping hole in the wall and then at my little cat, a leash still latched to her collar. “If you say so. You’re walking around with a leashed cat, and my wife wants to hear all the details about our mother’s quest to get laid by our brother-in-law’s soon-to-be father-in-law.”