Chapter Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Eight
“THAT WAS WONDERFUL,” DEBBIE GUSHED AS SHE enveloped Emma in a hug.
“Absolutely fantastic,” Alan agreed fervently. They’d all driven to the studio together and were now reconnecting in the enormous parking garage. Emma, confused by their positive reaction, wondered if they had somehow watched the wrong show or been drugged against their will.
“Really? I thought it was a disaster.”
Jackie, who was already trying to share clips of the taping on Emma’s social media—even though she wasn’t supposed to—looked up long enough to roll her eyes. They already had this conversation in the green room, the bathroom and on the way to the car.
“Oh my god, Emma, it wasn’t a disaster. She was just asking questions. That is literally her job.”
“Sure, but all of her questions made it seem like I was making a huge mistake,” Emma complained. Debbie and Alan exchanged a look.
“Do you think you’re making a huge mistake?” Debbie asked gently.
“No. Not at all. I mean, you know Matt. He’s amazing.”
“ So amazing,” Jackie confirmed, slightly salivating at the thought of her future brother-in-law.
“Then it doesn’t matter what some talk show host thinks,” Debbie replied. “You did a great job up there and I could tell the audience liked what you had to say. You had them hooked.”
“I guess I’ll choose to believe you,” Emma said. Maybe she’d been so afraid of looking foolish, her perception was skewed. And even if it wasn’t, there wasn’t anything she could do to save herself now. Delusion was the only option.
“Good,” Debbie replied as she opened the car door. “Because it’s time to get some celebratory ice cream.”
Approximately thirty minutes later, the family settled into a table outside their favorite artisanal ice cream shop. As Emma licked her black-raspberry-chip cone, she tried to assess the state of her parents’ marriage. The ride over had been filled with backseat driving and a fair amount of bickering over what legally constitutes tailgating, but that was par for the course. Since walking in on their closet fight, Emma was more curious about their interactions outside the exacerbating confines of a motor vehicle.
“Did you get my email?” Alan asked Emma as he slurped down some coffee chip. “The band needs to know your first dance song by the end of the week.”
Alan had graciously taken over the majority of wedding planning so Emma could focus on finishing her book and launching her podcast. It turned out he had a real knack for details and badgering people to get back to him—not that either was surprising after thirty-eight years as a high-powered attorney.
“What was your first dance song?” Emma asked.
“I don’t know if we had one,” Debbie replied. “The whole shindig was just to make your grandmother happy.”
“That’s not true,” Alan protested, forever defensive over Emma’s demanding grandma. “We both wanted a wedding.”
“Yes, but not one at a stuffy golf club surrounded by people we barely knew. I would have been happier in a field somewhere.”
“Who has a wedding in a field?”
“Plenty of people.”
“I’m sorry ours was such a disappointment because it was inside,” Alan said with bite. The conversation was quickly veering into dangerous territory.
“Oh, come on. Neither one of us would have chosen that type of wedding if we’d had the money to pay for it ourselves.”
“If you say so,” Alan replied.
Debbie looked at her daughters for backup. “Is this The Twilight Zone ? Have you ever heard either one of us talk fondly about our wedding?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention it. But I did spend my entire adolescence tuning you out,” Jackie replied.
“I’ve seen some bad pictures. And I think I knew Grandma planned it all,” Emma offered.
“See,” Debbie declared as though she had just officially won a presidential debate. “I’m not saying anything we haven’t both said for almost forty years.”
“I never said I hated our wedding,” Alan said standing up from the table. “But I’m sorry you feel that way.”
“Where are you going?” Debbie asked, confused.
“For a walk.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Are we just supposed to wait for you?”
“No, I’ll find my way home,” Alan replied confidently.
As he took off down the street, Debbie looked panicked. “He doesn’t even know where he is.”
“He has his phone,” Jackie said. “He can call an Uber or something.”
“Your father doesn’t know how to do that. He’s going to end up lying on the sidewalk dead from dehydration.”
“Then maybe you should go after him?” Emma suggested gently, only for Debbie to sit back in her chair and cross her arms defiantly.
“If he wants to throw a temper tantrum, I’ll let him.”
Oh lovely , Emma thought. Things were even worse than she’d feared.
***
“The oven’s on fire!” Emma shouted as flames sprung up from the sheet pan inside. “I told you I didn’t know how to cook!”
Matt, who had been working on the couch, ran over to confirm that the oven was in fact on fire. “Oh shit!”
“I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened.”
“It’s okay. Let me get the extinguisher.” Matt reached into the high cabinet over the fridge and extracted a never-been-used extinguisher still wrapped in its packaging. He struggled to open it.
“Can you get the scissors?”
“No,” Emma sobbed. “I don’t know where they are!”
“It’s okay,” Matt said as he managed to pat her shoulder while grabbing a steak knife to expertly tear through the plastic packaging. He then put the fire out with a large spray of whatever is in fire extinguishers.
Emma felt her heart start to slow down. She wrapped her arms around Matt in gratitude. “I can’t be trusted to prepare hot food. I tried to warn you,” she mumbled into his chest. She was both embarrassed and annoyed that her first attempt at oven-fried fish had literally gone up in smoke.
Emma had arrived at Matt’s place expecting to order in like they normally did, only to find a batch of fresh groceries and a hand-written recipe waiting for her. Matt explained his mom had sent the recipe for her famous fish fry and he’d had groceries delivered from Whole Foods so Emma could make it for them while he finished a report for work. Emma tried to convince Matt that she was hopeless in the kitchen but he wouldn’t listen. Apparently Kelly had once said that his mom’s recipes were “idiotproof” so she had nothing to worry about.
But now the kitchen was on fire, which didn’t bode well for Emma’s intelligence.
“Please don’t tell your mom about this,” Emma pleaded as Matt attempted to take the still-smoking sheet pan out of the oven. “We can just tell her it was so good we forgot to get a photo.”
“We don’t need to lie to my mom—hold on.” Matt held up a long rectangle-shaped box. “Did you put the fish on wax paper?”
“Yes…”
Matt laughed as Emma waited for him to explain the joke. “Wax paper is flammable. You have to use parchment paper in the oven.”
“No one mentioned that in the recipe,” Emma countered.
“Wow. I guess you really don’t know how to cook,” Matt said with a smile. “Don’t worry. My mom was a teacher for twenty-five years. She’ll help you learn in no time.”
Emma nodded, wondering if she had somehow expressed a desire to learn how to cook in her sleep or if Matt simply couldn’t imagine having a wife who barely understood how to use a microwave. In Emma’s defense, some of the fancy ones had too many settings.
“Let me go grab us something from the Thai place,” Emma offered. “I don’t think any of this is salvageable.”
“Are you sure? We can have food delivered.”
“I need some fresh air. On account of all the smoke inhalation.”
“Fair enough. I’ll get my usual.”
“You got it,” Emma replied, glad she at least knew how to order chicken pad thai.
As Emma walked out of the building and wrapped her sweater tightly around herself, she noticed a familiar blonde pacing by the door. She squinted to get a better look just as the blonde turned and made eye contact. They both gasped.
“Kelly?” Emma asked even though she knew the answer. She’d done enough Instagram stalking to be able to recognize Matt’s ex-wife anywhere in anything. Right now, Kelly wore a formfitting white collared shirt tucked perfectly into a floral pencil skirt with what had to be at least three-inch heels. It put Emma’s yoga pants and comfy sweater to shame.
“Oh my god. Emma, right?” Kelly looked mortified. “You must think I’m a total stalker.”
“No. No. I just recognized you and—” Emma could see tears welling up in Kelly’s perfectly green eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Not really,” Kelly croaked before slumping down onto a bench. Emma was glad the normally nosy valets were nowhere to be seen.
“Did you need to talk to Matt?” Emma asked as she sat down next to her.
“You aren’t mad that I’m here?”
“Not yet,” Emma joked. “But let me know if I should be.”
Kelly’s mouth turned upward without quite hitting the threshold for a smile. “I saw you on The Amanda Sharpe Show . Pretty much everyone I’ve ever met sent your clips to me.”
Emma winced. It couldn’t have been fun for Kelly to see her ex-husband’s new fiancée announcing their relationship to the world. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. None of this is your fault. I’m the one who ruined everything.” Kelly looked over at Emma. “I’m assuming Matt told you what I did?”
“He mentioned there was infidelity but didn’t get into too many details.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not a cheater. I hate cheaters. But it’s like the infertility and constant disappointment rotted my brain. I just needed to escape for a night and not think about anything important or real. I wanted to feel like a woman again and not just an inhospitable womb. Does that make any sense?”
“I certainly think so.”
“Well, Matt didn’t. No matter what I said or did he couldn’t get past it. It’s like his perception of me totally changed and I was suddenly some horrible stranger who wanted to hurt him.”
Emma understood Kelly’s pain. It was awful when someone you loved could only see the worst version of you.
Kelly sighed and rubbed her red eyes. “Even after we signed the divorce papers last week, I thought he would change his mind. I know that probably sounds delusional but Matty and I… We just go together. I can’t imagine being with anyone else.”
Emma nodded, not sure what to say. It felt inappropriate to give her normal spiel about the myth of soulmates and Kelly’s ability to be compatible with thousands of random people. It would come off like she was trying to get rid of her.
Luckily, Kelly kept going. “But when I saw you on the show yesterday, I panicked. I realized that if I didn’t do something right away, he might really be gone.”
Emma nodded again. She knew the feeling. She also knew that every time she had tried to do something to get someone to stay, it hadn’t worked.
“Do you want me to let you in to see him?”
Kelly looked at Emma like she might have a concussion. “Why would you do that?”
“Because it’s not my place to stop you from talking to him. And if he’d rather be with you that’s something we both deserve to know.”
“Are you having second thoughts or something?” Kelly asked skeptically.
Emma tried to keep her face neutral even though the disaster in the kitchen had caused some doubt to creep in. What if Emma wasn’t domestic enough for someone like Matt? Was she really going to have to learn things like the structural difference between parchment and wax paper to keep him happy? She was busy enough as it was.
“No,” Emma managed to reply convincingly. “I just don’t want to keep things from him. Even if the thing is you.”
“Wow,” Kelly said. “You’re way nicer than I wanted you to be.”
After a moment of silent consideration, Kelly stood up from the bench as Emma followed her lead. “I shouldn’t be here. Just promise you’ll take good care of him.”
Emma nodded. She put her arms out for a hug and Kelly, seeming to surprise herself, leaned in and took it. Emma could hear Kelly sniffle as she said, “Don’t let him eat anything with red food dye in it. He’ll say it’s fine but then his chin will itch for the rest of the day.”
“Understood. No Twizzlers or red velvet cake allowed.”
As they broke apart, the two women smiled sadly at each other. In another world, Emma suspected they’d be friends. But in this one, they would probably never talk again.
***
“Did someone order a pad Thai made by an actual professional?” Emma announced as she walked back into Matt’s condo. The takeout smelled delicious and it helped soothe her nerves for what was likely going to be an uncomfortable conversation.
“That took forever.” Matt dashed into the kitchen, giving Emma a quick kiss on the head before tearing open the plastic bags. “Was there a long line?”
“Not really,” Emma replied even though there was one man in front of her who’d become indignant upon learning a Thai restaurant didn’t make Chinese lo mein. “But I did bump into Kelly on my way out.”
Matt, who had been in the middle of ripping the cover off his noodles, whipped around to face Emma. “What? Where?”
“Right outside the building. I think she was pumping herself up to come in.”
Matt’s eyes shot toward the front door, his usually calm demeanor out the window. “Is she still here?”
“No. We talked for a bit and she decided it was better to leave, I guess.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Oh, mostly geopolitics in the arctic circle,” Emma joked to lighten the mood, but Matt just looked confused. “I’m kidding. We talked about you. I guess she saw me on Amanda Sharpe and was worried she was going to lose you.”
“ Lose me? We’re already divorced.”
“I know. But I think she’s still hoping to win you back.”
Matt shook his head in lieu of a verbal response. Emma noticed the pain on his face and wasn’t sure if it was pity for the woman he once loved, or turmoil over whether to run after her or not.
“Did you want to talk to her?” Emma asked gently.
“There’s nothing to say.” Matt grabbed two forks and handed one to Emma. “Let’s go eat.”
Emma followed him over to the couch. “Not to be a total therapist, but how do you feel about her showing up here? It must feel weird to know she’s still actively fighting for you.”
“You have nothing to worry about, okay?” Matt said impatiently. Like Emma was being ridiculous for harping on something that had literally just happened. “I can’t trust Kelly anymore, so it doesn’t matter how I feel or don’t feel. I have to move forward.”
Emma nodded as she poked her fork into her Pad See Ew with soft tofu. That wasn’t exactly the loving reassurance she was looking for. “How is the book going?” Matt asked in a clear attempt to change the subject.
Unfortunately, he had just shifted them into another touchy topic. After Emma and Will’s brainstorming session had been cut short by running into Ryan and then almost kissing each other, Emma had been avoiding her manuscript like the plague. She felt like a pilot who’d studied flying all her life without being taught how to actually land the plane.
“I’m struggling a bit with the ending,” Emma confessed, annoyed that her eyes were beginning to water. Clearly her body was more upset about her writer’s block than her mind had been letting on. But maybe it was good to open up and let Matt help her through what was beginning to feel like a creative crisis. Especially now that she didn’t have Will to lean on for that part of her life anymore.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Matt said with an encouraging pat to her knee. “You’re really smart. Just sit down and pound it out.”
Emma feigned a smile. “Yeah, I’ll try that.”
Matt smiled back, pleased to have solved the problem. Emma didn’t need to tell him he’d only made it worse.