6. Jaime
Getting home that night was a blur. I was grateful it was late on a weeknight and there was nobody on the road, because I remembered little about the drive other than it felt like I was floating.
“C’mon man, get your shit together,” I muttered to myself as I turned onto the familiar street and drove towards my childhood home. It was odd to return home as an adult to live in your parent’s house. I have so many fond memories of growing up in this house… and of spending time with Emma. My Emma.
The words sounded in my head before I could stop them. She’s not my Emma, I had to remind myself. We were thirty years old, and had lived completely different lives until now. Still, after spending just an hour basking in her light, I was already pawing at the ground, claiming her as mine once again.
It’s not outside the realm of possibility… she wanted to see me again. And I noticed the flush in her cheeks when I not so subtly studied the curves of her body while we spoke. A thread of giddiness raced through me and I felt like a kid again—until I pulled into the driveway of my mother’s house.
Ever since her diagnosis, there was a sense of melancholy whenever I stepped inside. Our roles were reversed now, my sister and I caring for her with the help of an in-home caregiver.
The nurse was great and worked her ass off. We really appreciated everything she was doing for our mom. But it was unnerving having a stranger in the house caring for your formerly fiercely independent mother. My father used to joke it wasn’t worth it to say “bless you” to my mother when she sneezed because she would take offense and respond with “What? You think I need your help with blessings?”
To make matters worse, I never knew what I was walking into—whether Ma was having a good or bad day, if she was present, or living in a different decade. It was stressful to experience as a child, but I could only imagine how disorienting it was for her, being corrected on little things like the date or what her husband’s name was.
When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed it wasn’t the little sedan the nurse usually drove, but Maria’s truck. Worried, I hurried into the house to find my little sister sitting on the couch, watching a late-night comedian, a tangle of knitting in her hands concealing her growing belly.
“You haven’t given up on that mess yet?” I asked her, nodding my head to the pink mass of yarn piled on her stomach.
“Mama didn’t raise no quitter. Besides, she knitted a receiving blanket for every one of us and I am going to carry on that tradition for this little one,” she said, not bothering to look up from her project, her brows furrowed in concentration. “I just wish Mama remembered she knows how to do this so she could show me how.”
That statement struck a chord, but I pushed the pang down. “What are you doing here, anyway? What happened to Sheila?” I asked, referring to the nurse.
“Her daughter spiked a fever, so she had to leave early,” Maria explained.
“What about Sofia? You should get your rest before that baby gets here,” I told her as if she actually needed reminding.
“Why bother Sofia with this? It’s not like I’m going to be sleeping anyway. As big as this baby is getting, I can’t get into any position that’s comfortable. At least here I can help and be productive,” Maria said, ever pragmatic.
“Hmm,” I grunted, “how is Ma tonight?” I asked, fortifying myself for the answer.
“She was fairly peaceful tonight. She thought I was a neighbor girl in the village, so I heard a lot of village gossip—forty years after the fact—but it made for an enjoyable evening.”
I smiled. As practical as Maria was, she still put a positive light on just about everything. I envied her, especially in this situation.
“What about you? How was it at the bar tonight?” she asked, looking up from her knitting.
“Not bad. Had an event with a bunch of high rollers that kept us busy, but we got through it. The staff earned extra tips from it. Oh, and I ran into Emma. So overall, not a bad night,” I said casually, plopping down on the couch next to Maria and idly picking at the basket of spare yarn in between us.
Maria wasn’t falling for any casual turn of phrase, and she looked at me through narrowed eyes. “I’m sorry, did you say Emma?”
“Yeah,” I shrugged, regretting mentioning her at all. I couldn’t mention someone as important as Emma without my sisters following the scent like bloodhounds. Subtlety was not their strong suit.
“As in Emma Carter?” she clarified, a grin wreathing her mouth.
I glanced at her, then turned away to work on getting my boots off. “Yeah, what’s the big deal?” I asked, managing to do it with a straight face.
“What’s the big deal? Are you serious right now?” Maria asked incredulously, dropping her knitting and turning to face me on the couch. I was in for it now, though I didn’t mind. It’s not like I could talk to Charlie about Emma. He’d have nothing but dire warnings.
“You’re telling me that the woman you’ve been longing for since you were a teenager, the one who got away with your heart, the one you look for around every corner… just drops into your bar and that’s no big deal?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
She huffed. “No, I don”t think it is. It’s romantic… and tragic, but mostly romantic. I mean, missing someone for that long? I can’t even imagine.”
“Yeah, well, that’s because Carlos was smart enough to know a good thing when he found it and stuck to you like glue,” I teased her.
Maria smiled, petting her bulging belly. It was a little gag worthy to see her so swoony over Carlos, like she was still a teenager. But it was also comforting to know that even though she and Carlos had been together for several years, they still acted like lovesick kids around one another. I was happy my little sister had that. If only we all were so lucky.
I tried to ignore the pang of envy in my chest. It never seemed to matter how many years passed or all the reasons Emma left. I still felt like we’d been robbed of something. The reminder made me stiffen my posture. Shaking my head, I told Maria, “That was a million years ago. It’s probably best to leave the past in the past, don’t you think?”
Maria didn’t answer right away, contemplating me with her head tilted to the side. Finally, she said, “Tell me this, Jaime. When you saw her again, what was your first reaction?”
Excitement. Lust. Longing… Relief.
I cleared my throat. “It’s been a long night, Maria,” I said as I shuffled off the couch and gathered up my boots. “I should go to bed.”
Maria raised a dubious eyebrow. “You can avoid telling me the truth all you want, Jaime, but don’t make the mistake of lying to yourself. That only leads to trouble.”
I stopped in the doorway, not bothering to look back. ”You know, you’re really starting to sound like Mom.”
I didn’t catch her expression as I headed for the stairs, but I heard her little gasp and then a quiet and sincere “thanks.” I bit back a laugh. If I had said the same thing to my oldest sister Sofia, she would have thrown a chancla at my head. But to Maria, there was no greater compliment.
I shook my head as I headed up the stairs, the events of the day finally catching up to my body. I guess the adrenaline was wearing off. Although she was the baby of the family, Maria really was wise beyond her years. And her question continued to ring through my ears as I grabbed my pajama pants and headed to the shower.
So many emotions collided within me when I laid eyes on Emma. It was exhilarating… and absolutely terrifying, especially the feeling of relief that washed over me. I was aware of how hard it had been to live without her all this time, but this was the first time I realized I’d been holding my breath for years.
With Emma back in Silverpine, I could breathe again. The oxygen was rushing through my bloodstream and while I wanted to drink in the air and fill my lungs, there was a real possibility this feeling would not last. She would probably only be here for a few days, and then what? I would be right back where I started—maybe even worse.
The fact of the matter was, another taste of Emma could end me.
And yet… I knew with the clarity of a man walking towards his executioner, there was no going back.
If she were to offer herself up, I would go all in like a man diving into his last meal and I would savor every bite. And as I stood beneath the warm spray of my shower, I let my imagination run wild, thinking about how heavenly Emma would taste. How she would respond in my arms, throwing her head back and revealing the milky, sensitive skin of her neck.
Then I thought about my fingers tracing the low neckline of that dress, my lips following in their wake, and how I’d slip the thin straps off her shoulders and let the shimmery mass fall to the floor.
Emma had always been a stunner. My beam of light with that dazzling smile. But now that she’d grown into those beautiful curves and after watching the enticing sway of her generous hips as she walked away from me, it took everything in me not to hop over the bar and hunt her down.
I wonder how she would’ve reacted if I had. If I’d grabbed her and backed her into the wall of the lobby and taken her mouth, claiming her out in the open for anyone to see.
My hand tightened around my shaft and my strokes became more aggressive at the image. Would her creamy, fair skin blush at my touch? Starting high in her cheeks, running all the way down to her breasts?
That was all it took to inspire my release. I was needy for her. The mere thought of a blush was enough to make me come hard in my hand, breathing hard in the shower, until I came back to my senses and remembered where the hell I was. I let the hot water wash over me for a little while longer and then forced myself to turn it off and dry off.
She’d only been back for a few hours and I was already wrestling with myself, torn over what to do.
I glimpsed myself in the mostly steamed over mirror and laughed. Who was I kidding? I knew exactly what I was going to do… I was going to take any and every opportunity to get close to her again, even though it may wind up hurting like hell. But it would be worth it.