21. EMMA
The raffle was amazing. I didn’t think we’d make much from it, but we did. And, Sterling and I were able to hang out as friends for the night without it being too awkward. It was a win-win.
I’m at my brother’s house today organizing the list of silent auction items and addressing invitations to mail out to some local leaders in the area so they can spread the word.
We bumped the concert to last, and there’s not much prep work left for that. We handed out tickets to all the local businesses to sell and put it online to get the attention of some of the bigger towns within a sixty-or-so-mile radius.
We’ve already sold almost seven hundred seats. Everyone is jumping at the chance to support the shelter. Buddy has become our official mascot. Sterling takes that cute puppy face everywhere with him. The little guy really seems to tug at everyone’s heart strings.
So for today, my focus is solely on the silent auction. Zoe has really come through for this event. She has connections at our local country club. They’re letting us use their space free of charge. One of the members is an interior designer and offered to help decorate the space to really make it look classy. I’m so excited to see what she comes up with.
Zoe also contacted all her real estate agent friends and past clients to see if they want to contribute. The response has been overwhelming.
We’ve got fine dining experiences in Raleigh and Durham, ski packages in Vermont, and multiple weekend stays at oceanfront hotels up for bid. However, according to Peter, his contribution tops them all.
He has an old college buddy who works for the NBA. He got this friend to donate a signed jersey from a player for the Bulls, I think he said. Bulls? Cows? I don’t know. Cows probably aren’t a team name. So it must be Bulls.
I’m not a big professional sports fan, particularly not basketball. Michael Jackson is it? No, that’s music. Michael Bublé? Music again. Focus. Jordan, Michael Jordan. That’s it. I guess he’s famous or something and was a pretty good player back in the day. Peter is excited and said it will get huge bids. That’s all I care about.
Sterling and I haven’t seen each other in a few days, but he’s coming over here after work to help me. I’m excited to see him. I miss him when he’s not around, I can admit it.
My reverie is interrupted by a knock on the door.
That’s kind of strange. I didn’t think Sterling would actually knock, since he already knows that I’m here. When I look through the glass, I see it’s not Sterling. It’s Dean, and he’s holding a bouquet of flowers.
Ugh.
I open the door and skip the pleasantries to get straight to the point. “What are you doing here?”
He starts stammering, which I’ve never seen him do before. He’s always so polished when he speaks, so he must be very nervous. This makes me feel a little bad for him, but not much, since he embarrassed me in front of the entire town.
“These are for you.” He hands me a beautiful arrangement. I’m sure it cost him quite a bit, but I don’t really care.
“How did you even know where to find me?”
“It’s a small town. The lady at the front desk of the hotel was an open book.”
These are the downfalls of everybody knowing everybody.
“Thanks for these, but I’m pretty busy.” I start to close the door, but he stops it with his foot.
“Emma, please, just five minutes. I drove all this way.” Okay, it is like a seven-hour drive, so five minutes seems like a fair trade.
“Fine.” I open the door so he can step inside. “I’ll go put these in water.” I’m starting a mental timer now. Surely, I can waste at least two of his five minutes finding a vase.
Unfortunately, the vase is in the first cupboard I open. Who keeps their vases in the same place as their plastic cups? There was no way I thought it was going to be in there. But with Dean sitting at the kitchen island, I can’t pretend I don’t see it.
I fill the vase with water as slowly as possible, then put the flowers in it. Next, I decide that getting myself a drink should take another thirty seconds. When I’m finished, I walk over to the island to face Dean. Let’s just get this over with.
“You’ve got three minutes left. Go.” I take a sip of my water, trying to cool down the volcano that’s raging inside me.
Dean is clearly shocked by my assertiveness, judging by the look on his face. He”s wasted enough of my life. He doesn’t get to do it anymore.
“I want you back.”
Four words. He only gets out four words out before I spit every drop of the water I”m drinking into his face. I think a few drops actually made it into his mouth.
Oh well. It wasn’t on purpose, even though he did deserve it. I couldn’t hold it in. The sheer absurdity of his opening line got me. No, “I’m sorry.” No, “Please forgive me Emma.” Just a statement about what he wants. It’s classic Dean.
I hand him a dish towel. It’s the least I can do.
Once he’s as dry as he’s going to get, he looks up at me with puppy dog eyes. I can’t believe he thinks that’s going to work.
“I miss you.” Still no apology. This is going nowhere.
“Look, Dean, I appreciate your effort, I guess. But it’s over, you did me a favor when you broke up with me. You definitely could have done it in a less conspicuous and embarrassing way, but nonetheless, it was for the best.”
I start walking to the front door. “Emma, come on. We’re good together. We owe it to ourselves to give this another shot,” he says as he trails behind me.
I can’t contain my amusement. “Oh, my oblivious Dean. We are not good together. To make a relationship work, you have to actually care about the other person. The only one you care about it yourself. Good night.” I reach behind me and give him a gentle push in the back to get him moving.
“What if I say I’m sorry. Is that what you need to hear?”
Oh, my goodness, he is clueless. Yes, “I’m sorry for dumping you at your brother’s wedding” might have been a better way to approach this conversation.
“It’s too late, Dean. Good night. Please.” I emphasize the ”please” to drive home the fact that I’m done. But he just won’t go down the stairs. Thankfully, I spot Sterling heading this way.
“Hey, Sterling!” I call out.
He moves in front of Dean. “Dean. Long time no wanted to see.”
I cover my mouth to stifle a giggle at Sterling”s greeting. Two extra words can completely change the meaning of a phrase.
“Silver, was it?” Dean asks.
“Sterling, my man. I’m pretty sure you just heard Emma call me that. But cute. Looks like you were just leaving. Have a good evening.”
Dean takes another step closer to me. “No, I wasn’t actually. Emma and I are talking about getting back together. We aren’t quite finished with our conversation.”
I give Sterling a serious look. “Yes, we are finished.”
Sterling takes the situation into his own hands. He pushes past Dean until we’re face to face. He cups my chin in one hand and then tilts it up to him. He presses his lips ever so gently to mine.
When I think he’s about to pull away, one hand moves to my neck, while the other slips quickly to brace my lower back before he dips me suddenly, deepening his kiss with a hunger that would knock me to the floor if he wasn’t holding me up.
When he pulls me upright, I momentarily forget Dean’s even there and keep my eyes closed to savor the moment. As they reopen, I see an awestruck Dean with his mouth wide.
Sterling is unfazed. “Hey, babe. Good to see ya.” He puts an arm around me.
“Uh, yeah, um, babe, you too.” The volcano of emotions stirred by my anger at Dean has quickly transformed into a volcano fueled by Sterling’s passion. Its intensity leaves me feeling dizzy and lightheaded.
Sterling feels my wobbling and steadies me by wrapping his arms around me and leaning my back against his chest.
“So, it’s about time to go, wouldn’t you say, Dean?” Sterling points out.
Dean finally relents and turns slowly to go without another word.
It’s finally over.
Sterling closes the door, then looks at me. “That good, huh. I made you unsteady on your feet?”
I can feel little beads of sweat gathering on my neck. Yes, like a little volcano, if you must know. But you won’t because there’s no chance I’m saying that out loud.
I ignore his comment. “Thanks for that. I thought he’d never leave.”
“Sure, what’re friends for. Am I right?” His smile says all that I need to know about how pleased he is with himself, but I can’t blame him. That was kind of awesome.
“Yes, friends, exactly. Let’s get to work, shall we?”
“Absolutely.” He starts moving past me to the table, but then stops by my side.
I feel his breath on my neck as he whispers. “By the way, Em, this whole friend thing, I find myself enjoying it more and more every day.”