Masina #2
“May I have the guest’s name?”
“Emory Lennox.”
“I see.” The young man glanced down at his clipboard before offering me a polite smile. “Right this way, Madam.”
I followed behind him through the restaurant, taking in the elegant atmosphere around me. The lighting was soft, conversations were kept to quiet murmurs, and a pianist played somewhere in the distance, filling the room with music that managed to calm my frayed nerves.
He led me past several occupied tables before stopping near the outdoor patio where Emory sat waiting. It was secluded enough to offer privacy without feeling hidden, something I appreciated considering how much unwanted attention seemed to follow our families these days.
“Your server will be right with you.”
“Thank you.”
The young man excused himself just as Emory stood to greet me.
He walked around the table and wrapped me in a warm embrace that lingered just long enough to make me forget where I was.
The woodsy spice of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of the cigar he’d probably enjoyed before I arrived, was intoxicating.
I found myself breathing in deeper than I intended.
It wasn’t overpowering. It was comforting.
Masculine in a way that made me feel strangely safe.
“You look stunning.”
“As do you.” I laughed, catching myself. “I mean...handsome. You look handsome.” He smiled, and Lord have mercy, that smile still did something to me all these years later.
Why were my palms sweating?
It was the strangest feeling. You know that sensation we get as women when we’re standing close to a man we genuinely like.
The butterflies. The nervous laughter. The sudden inability to remember how words worked.
That was what I was experiencing sitting across from Emory.
He had a way of disarming me without even trying, making the noise in my head quiet down every time we spoke.
But as comforting as that feeling was, I also knew trying to pursue anything with him would invite more complications than either one of us needed.
Everything surrounding us was messy enough.
My sons made it abundantly clear they didn’t approve of whatever this was becoming between us, and after everything Marius had done, trusting anybody felt like walking barefoot through broken glass.
Emory understood that though. We’d talked about everything that transpired, and unlike so many others, he never made me feel judged for any of it.
He listened. Really listened. When I explained how Yuki, her children, and my boys were all connected in ways none of us could’ve ever imagined, he sat there in complete disbelief.
The entire situation sounded unbelievable even coming out of my own mouth, but he’d managed to meet every revelation with compassion instead of criticism.
That was part of what made this so difficult.
I didn’t want to complicate my life by becoming involved with a man who was separated, yes, but still legally married.
Then again, I wasn’t divorced either. Somewhere between trying to survive everything Marius had thrown at our family and reconnecting with children I’d prayed my whole life to know, I’d completely neglected my own marriage.
If I was being honest with myself, that was something I needed to handle sooner rather than later.
For tonight, though, I pushed all of that to the back of my mind.
There was no crime in sharing a meal with an old friend, no crime in laughing, no crime in allowing myself a few hours where grief wasn’t the only thing sitting across the table from me.
So for just this evening, I decided to let myself breathe.
“How long have you been staying here?” I asked as I settled into the chair across from him.
“Pretty much since the separation.” He let out a tired breath and leaned back in his seat.
“I can’t bear to be in that house. Every time we’re within two inches of each other it’s like we can’t stand the sight of one another without throwing grenades.
” There wasn’t any bitterness in his voice, just exhaustion.
“Today she was served with the divorce papers, and now she’s trying to fight me on it, which I don’t understand because she’s the one who initiated the separation to begin with. With my baby gone, there’s nothing else tying me to her. That love fizzled out a long time ago.”
He said it like a man who’d been carrying those words around for years and finally found somewhere safe enough to put them down.
They weren’t spoken with anger or resentment.
If anything, they sounded mournful, like he was grieving the death of a marriage long before he ever signed the paperwork to end it.
Looking into his eyes, I could tell he wasn’t trying to convince me of anything. He was simply telling me the truth.
“Damn, Emory.” I reached across the table and rested my hand over his. “She just found out her daughter died.”
“I know. That’s the part that’s been eating at me all day. I’d already filed the paperwork. I had no idea any of this was going to happen today.” His voice trailed off before he looked away toward the patio.
“I would’ve waited.” The sincerity behind those words sat with me. He wasn’t trying to justify himself. He genuinely wished things had unfolded differently.
Before either of us could say anything else, our server arrived to take our drink orders.
Since I was hellbent on maintaining my sobriety, I ordered a sparkling cranberry lemonade with fresh mint while Emory ordered a glass of bourbon neat.
We decided on a few appetizers to start before looking over the dinner menu, neither one of us really paying much attention to it.
“Does my drinking bother you?” he asked once the server walked away. The question caught me off guard.
“No, not at all.” I smiled reassuringly.
“You’re fine. I’m just thinking about my girlfriend.”
I went on to tell him about Aretha. The years she’d spent helping Kade, the way she fussed over everybody before herself, how quick everything changed after those flowers arrived at our front door.
By the time I finished explaining the tragic way she’d passed, I realized I’d spent more time talking than I intended.
“Damn.” He leaned back.
“And y’all don’t know who did it?”
“No. But I got two suspects in mind.”