24. Always Want The Dirt
ALWAYS WANT THE DIRT
W arren’s phone rang the next night. Emma cleaned up dinner and lost herself in her writing. She hadn’t planned on it, she’d said, but he’d given her an idea while they were talking about her book and she was off and running.
He picked his phone up and saw it was his mother calling, so he answered. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, Warren. Is this a bad time?”
“No,” he said. “I’m just flipping through the TV trying to find something to watch.”
“I thought Emma was there until tomorrow,” his mother said.
“She is, but she’s writing right now.”
There was a humph sound on the other line. “I figured you’d be spending time together.”
“We are,” he said. He didn’t need relationship lectures from a woman who married his father and never dated again that he knew of. “And we have been. I brought her to the training facility yesterday and introduced her to Coach and Mike.”
“Interesting,” his mother said. “And what was their reaction?”
“That I was dating someone surprised them,” he said. “They liked her a lot.”
“That’s good,” his mother said. “Do they know about her?”
“You know they do,” he said. “Once I gave her name and said what she did, Mike had the summary of her history in thirty seconds. What she writes, who her family is.”
“What they consider important things,” Casey said, snorting. “Who your family is isn’t that important.”
He let out a noise like his mother had been doing.
“People always want the dirt, Mom,” he said.
“And you swept it up,” his mother said. “Like you always do. You can’t control those things either.”
“I know,” he said.
“What does Emma know about your father?” his mother asked.
“That he is a selfish lowlife drunk,” he said. “He left when Stacy was young and never supported us. That about sums that up.”
He was stunned that Emma hadn’t asked him a million questions after he’d answered her question about who dug at him.
The person who asked him ten questions about the way he made his sandwich didn’t get intrusive into his personal life.
He wasn’t so sure how he felt about that either.
Like serious or deep topics were too much for her and she’d rather stay locked in the places she could create the way she wanted.
“Maybe it’s time you tell her,” his mother said.
“What use is it?” he asked.
“It’s important in your life,” his mother said. “It’s who or what made you the man you are today. Even if what you did was out of spite, it’s still there. That’s meaningful. If you care for Emma the way I think you do, then she should be privy to those meaningful things.”
He sighed. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll think about it.”
“Are you bothered that she is writing rather than spending time with you?”
“That’s the funny thing,” he said. “Not really.”
“ Not really means it’s there,” Casey said. “Even if it’s a tiny bit.”
“I can’t explain it,” he said. “She’s in the house and I like to feel that presence. That knowing if I walk into a room, she’s there and she’ll look up and smile at me.” At least he hoped so. She’d done that before when they were together and she was working.
He never expected her to walk away from her work completely. It’s not like he didn’t spend hours a day still training, reviewing notes on his computer, or watching footage too.
But when they were together, she didn’t work as much. She was even planning her writing around when he’d be there so that she could get long sessions out of the way.
He saw the effort she was making and appreciated it.
“That is a nice feeling,” his mother said. “It’s hard to do something nonstop.”
“We don’t,” he said. “I’m not that way and have never been like that.”
“You do like to sit and relax. I think it comes from always working your whole life. Even before you were sixteen and at the mini-mart, you were mowing lawns and shoveling sidewalks and driveways. You were doing whatever work someone needed.”
He looked down at the scar at the base of his thumb. The blister that had gotten infected from all the raking he’d done one fall.
“I don’t need the reminder,” he said. “Now I can pay someone else to do those things.”
“As you should,” Casey said, laughing. “How is everything else going?”
“Good,” he said. “What specifically are you asking?”
“I don’t get to talk to you much and I’m trying to catch up. The girls are both doing well, but I know you talk with them and get updates.”
“We text,” he said. “Stacy is busy studying.”
“So she tells me. I have all the faith in the world she’s going to pass the bar, but she’s stressed.”
“There is no reason for her to be,” he said. “She’s smart and determined. All those excellent traits we got from our mother.”
“That’s right,” his mother said. He could picture her massive grin in his mind by the tone of her voice. “Don’t you forget it.”
“I never will,” he said. He spun his head and noticed Emma standing in the doorway to the family room, her hip against the wall, her arms and ankles crossed. She winked at him and smiled.
He held his hand out for her to come closer, and she moved in and flopped on him.
“Are you okay?” his mother asked. “You just made a noise like you stubbed your toe.”
He laughed. “Emma came in and sat on me instead of next to me. Not sure what she was planning.”
“I’d like to meet her,” his mother said. “If she’s willing.”
“She said she is,” he said. “You just have to tell me when you’ll be around and she’ll work it out.”
“I meant right now on video,” his mother said. “You two had enough dates that way. Why can’t I meet her like that?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Let me ask her.”
Emma had shorts and a T-shirt on, her feet were bare, her hair was in a messy bun on her head and there was a little sparkle on her cheeks. It wasn’t there earlier and had been on her eyelids. He was guessing she was rubbing her face and the makeup transferred.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“My mother would like to meet you on video right now if you’re willing.”
“I’d love to,” she said happily.
“Mom,” he said. “I’ll call you from my laptop in a minute. I’ve got to get it out of the office.”
“I’ll be here,” his mother said.
“I couldn’t very well say no to that,” she said, giggling. “Then your mother would think I’m a bitch.”
He turned to look at her. “Did you not want to do it?”
“Of course I do,” she said. “I’m just saying I couldn’t have said no anyway.”
“You’re confusing me,” he said as he stood up.
“I confuse myself too. Those words came out wrong. I’m better at typing than speaking.”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” He walked to the other end of the house, got his laptop, and returned next to her on the couch. “Are you all done working tonight?”
“I am,” she said. “I just had to get it out before I forgot. It’s good enough, and I took notes for the rest. I’m sorry I did that. It was rude of me.”
“I understand,” he said. “You didn’t do much Sunday or yesterday. It’s hard to shut your brain off of something so completely.”
She dropped her head on his shoulder. He couldn’t explain how those little actions moved him.
He had his screen up and his mother’s face appeared. “Hi, Emma,” his mother said.
“Hi, Casey,” she said, her hand waving rapidly. “It’s so nice to meet you. Okay, now I know where Warren gets his eyes from.”
His mother laughed. “He does have my eyes. I like to think he has a lot more of my features.”
“I wish I had everything of yours,” he said. “But you know, can’t control those things.”
“Then you would have been a test tube baby or something,” Emma said, giving him a shove. He didn’t move and never did when she did those things. He purposely didn’t, so she’d wrinkle her nose at him adorably.
Like she did just then.
Maybe he wanted his mother to see the playful interactions he had with Emma.
“I tell Warren all the time that you can’t change where you come from, but you can control where you’re going.”
“I like that,” Emma said. “It’s the truth. I can’t complain and never will about my history, but I’m more inclined to spend my energy on my future.”
“That sounds just like Warren,” his mother said.
“We have so much in common,” Emma said, nodding her head. Her messy bun was moving in a delayed reaction. “I never thought it when I first met him.”
“And she had no clue who I was.”
“He’s never going to let me live that down, but he didn’t know who I was, so I think we’re even there.”
He supposed he could think of it that way. “If you say so,” he said.
“You two look very cute together,” his mother said. “But Warren is like a giant next to you.”
“Always,” she said. “I’m only five foot four. He’s a foot and two inches taller than me and more than a hundred pounds.”
“Both of my girls are tall. I’m tall,” his mother said. “But not six feet tall.”
“Unfortunately, I get my build from my father,” he said.
“Not a bad thing since it helped get you where you are today. Not everything from people we don’t like is horrible,” Emma said, giving him a serious look that he didn’t see often.
Casey cleared her throat. “Yes, Mother,” he said, sighing.
Emma looked at the screen and back to him. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you when we are off the call,” he said. Because his mother was right and he should open up more.
Emma rubbed her palms together. “Oooooh, secrets.”
His mother laughed. “Maybe it’s confessions.”
His girlfriend’s jaw dropped. “Thanks for that, Mom. It’s fine, Emma,” he said.
“I have to tell you, Casey. I love picking Warren’s brain. I told myself I wouldn’t work too much while I was here, but he’s given me such inspiration for my story that if I don’t get it out I’m terrified I’ll forget it, even with notes.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” his mother said. “I always told Warren he had a mind to solve things. He’s put all his energy into football, but there is more to him than that.”
“He does,” she said. “And he’s helping me be a better writer. There were things I wouldn’t have thought of with this story. I can’t wait until he can read it.”