The Emi Lost & Found Series

by Lori L. Otto

  He laughs heartily. “It sounds like you watch too many mafia movies.”

  “That may be true,” I admit. “I went through a phase.”

  “I must admit, I don’t like guns or severed horse heads, either. I’m glad we’re on the same page there.”

  I laugh back at him. “Were you an investor back in college?”

  “No, just their best customer. My frequent visits probably kept the lights on many months.”

  “Well, how’d you become an investor?”

  “I always liked the food,” he begins. “Initially, that’s what kept me coming back. And it used to be run by an older man. Victor. He’d been in business for thirty-something years. He would often come and sit with me at lunch when the deli was slow. He was a good man. Loved his wife and his sons, would do anything for them. Honestly, he would do anything for anyone… he was generous to a fault. Even in those years when business was bad, he would host free Thanksgiving meals for the homeless. I would come and volunteer every year.

  “I didn’t see much of him while I was away at Harvard. Every time I came back to New York, I’d stop by and we’d have lunch or dinner together. He was having a difficult time making ends meet. I tried to help him out, monetarily, but he was too proud.

  “He died peacefully in his sleep one night.”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him. He smiles and nods.

  “His son, JR, took over for him, but there was a lot of debt. I had a little extra money, and I offered to invest in the deli to get it up and running again. I never wanted to see the place close down. Victor loved that business, and I could tell JR wanted to make his father proud. JR and I went over the numbers… I gave him some good business advice and a little cash, and he was able to turn that place around.”

  “It’s a great shop.”

  “Is the sandwich good?”

  “Yeah,” I tell him as I set aside a few olives.

  “Not a fan of olives?”

  “Not so much,” I admit. “But it’s still really good. And the fruit’s really fresh.”

  “I’m pretty proud of what JR’s accomplished. We still meet on occasion to talk about the business, but he really runs it on his own. He doesn’t need my advice anymore… he just needs someone to let him know he’s doing all the right things.”

  “That’s really nice of you.”

  “It’s what I do.”

  “I thought you did technology consulting…”

  “I do that, too. I like to help people out when I can.”

  “Good to know.” I smile and take another bite of the club. “Wait, can we back up a second? Did you say Harvard?”

  “I did.”

  “Wow. There is so much I don’t know about you.” I grin more at the prospect of getting to know him better.

  “What has your brother told you?”

  “Hmmm... he told me he punched you. And he told me you were crazy about me. That’s about it.”

  “Both true,” he smiles.

  “What has he said about me?”

  “He just gave me some advice. He told me to be patient.”

  I roll my eyes, then sigh. My eyes begin to water as I feel a bit defeated. “I guess that’s good advice these days.”

  Jack puts his hand on my knee gently. “Well, I’m nothing if not patient,” Jack says.

  “Well, good. Because as you can see, you’re gonna need to be. I’m an emotional wreck these days.”

  “I don’t see that at all. What I see is a woman who has been through a lot this year... a woman who is handling it all strikingly well, actually. I mean, you made it here today. You didn’t back out. That’s a step.”

  “A baby step...”

  “You told me this wouldn’t be easy. It shouldn’t be, and I certainly don’t expect it to be.” I nod before looking across the lawn at a couple having a picnic in the grass. They look so happy and normal. “In time, Poppet. I’ll be here. You can come to me.”

  “Thanks,” I tell him.

  “Would you like to go for a walk or something?”

  I nod to him before answering him. “I really would.”

  He stands up, picking up our trash and throwing it into a trashcan nearby. I hand him his bottled water, ascending the steps and following his lead.

  “Ten questions?” I ask as we begin to walk the perimeter of the park.

  “What?”

  “We can ask each other ten questions. Get to know each other better.”

  “Okay, you first.”

  “Are you a cat person or a dog person?”

  “Dog,” he says definitively. “But I don’t have one. I had a fox terrier when I was younger. God, I loved that dog.” He shakes his head and laughs to himself. “Was that the right answer?”

  “Is that your first question?” I cleverly ask.

  “Is that your second?” he shoots right back.

  I squint at him playfully and stick my tongue out at him.

  “Nice,” he says. “Cat or dog?”

  “Let’s just say the cat and I didn’t get along growing up. I’ve never had a dog, but I like them.”

  “Never? Wait, no, that’s not my next question.”

  I shake my head at him and smile. “What band dominates your iPod?”

  “Ah, what a wasted question,” he says. “I don’t have an iPod.”

  “How could you not have an iPod?”

  “Hey, it’s my turn to ask a question.”

  I let out a frustrated groan.

  “Professionally, are you doing what makes you happy?”

  “Easy one, yes.” We stop for a few minutes, watching a young man play the violin. His eyes are closed as he concentrates on his music. Jack places some bills in the violin case next to the performer. At the end of the song, we continue walking. “Let’s see...” I begin. “If you could have any other career, what would it be?”

  “Hmmm... that one’s tough. Maybe a dive instructor? Or a doctor... I don’t know.”

  “Those are pretty opposite.”

  “Well... they both make lives better. In different ways. Have you ever been diving?”

  “No. I’m scared of sharks.”

  “Oh, come on,” he tries to sound convincing. “It’s exhilarating. A whole other world lives down there, it’s fascinating. There aren’t always sharks...”

  “Can you guarantee that?”

  “I would never put your life in danger. I can guarantee that.” He glances at me briefly, then faintly smiles.

  The way he says it, his voice so earnest and sweet, his eyes so captivating... Without any doubt, I believe him. I sigh and bite my bottom lip, the butterflies returning in full force.

  “My turn?” he asks. “Where is one place in the world you’d like to visit that you haven’t been before?”

  “Just one? Wow. I’ll pick a continent, then. Europe.”

  “You’ve never been?”

  “No. My life is seeming very sheltered all of a sudden...”

  “I’ve been a lot on business. I think I’m actually going again next year.”

  “Lucky.”

  “If you play your cards right, Miss Hennigan...” he says shyly, and I can tell as soon as the words come out, he’s not sure if he should have said them. I smile, watching his posture relax.

  “I wouldn’t want to be a bother,” I tell him. But I’d go in a heartbeat!

  “It would be an honor to have you come with me, Emi.”

  “You don’t even really know me yet,” I joke with him, nudging him with my shoulder. “We haven’t even made it through five questions.”

  “I know how you make me feel,” he says seriously, slowing to a stop and taking my hand in his. His motion is cautious, and he looks at me for approval. My heart starts to pound in my chest as I start to melt under his gaze. “Is this okay?” He glances briefly at our hands.

  God, I want him to kiss me. Ignore everything I said to you, Jack, and just kiss me! Ugh!

  I weave my fingers between his, feeli
ng myself blush. “It’s nice.” I start walking again, pulling him along with me. He catches up quickly.

  “It’s your turn,” he tells me.

  “Okay... who are you closest to in your family?”

  “That depends. Kelly and I have a natural bond, really. We sense things about one another from time-to-time. And I see her most, she’s the only relative that lives here... but Stevie and I have similar temperaments.

  “He really looked up to me, growing up. And I always wanted to set a good example for him. If you put all four of us in a room together, Kelly and Matty normally end up in some animated conversation, and Stevie and I just sit back and listen.”

  “Sounds like you’re all pretty close, though.”

  “We definitely are. Along with your brother, they’re the best friends I’ve got.”

  “You seem like the type who’d have a ton of best friends.”

  “I have a fair amount of friends... acquaintances... associates...” He’s quiet for a few seconds. “I think I’m a pretty good judge of character. I can pretty much tell if a person is being straight with me, or if they’re just being friendly for personal gain. I have to be wary of that. I mean, really, everyone does.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, spotting a few girls a couple yards away looking in our direction. “Speaking of friends, do you know them?”

  Jack slows down and slowly changes our course away from them, but nods politely at them. “No, I don’t.”

  “They’re probably thinking, ‘What’s a guy like that doing with a girl like her?’” I joke with him.

  “Hush. Stop putting yourself down. You have no reason to.”

  “You’re right, I am wearing the tie now.” I throw one end over my shoulder dramatically.

  “Okay, Emi, what’s the most daring thing you’ve ever done?”

  “Hmmm...” I ponder. “I know you’re thinking skydiving or bungee jumping, but I haven’t done either of those... I don’t really know.”

  “Surely there’s something.”

  “I ride the subway alone, at night, all the time,” I deadpan.

  “That’s something, but...”

  I think long and hard, for those moments in my life where the adrenaline just took over and actions came before thoughts. One stands out above all others.

  “I confronted my dad and his mistress at a restaurant.”

  Jack doesn’t know how to respond. He looks at me curiously.

  “Yeah, my friends and I went out to eat after some theatre performance. My mom and dad were actually at the performance, together, but the woman with my father at the restaurant was certainly not my mom. And he was very... um, cozy, with her.

  “I just got up from the table and walked slowly to theirs, just waiting for him to make eye contact with me. I stood at the edge of the table while they kissed. Elaine saw me first,” I tell him. “She said, ‘Can I help you with something?’ And my dad looked over, and the look on his face... it was just shock and remorse and shame and sadness, all covered with her lipstick, and I just cried.

  “It took Dad a minute to find the words, and then he just said, ‘Emi, honey, we’re in love.’”

  “Wow,” Jack comments. “I’m sorry, Emi, that must have been horrible.”

  I shrug and nod. “I just said to him, you know, in between sobs, ‘Are you gonna tell Mom, or am I?’

  “And he did, and they divorced... and Dad married Elaine a few years later, and Mom found a new husband... and they’re all living happily ever after now.”

  “Yeah, your family dynamic is very interesting,” he says to me cautiously.

  “Yeah, it is. But it’s good. Now, it’s good.”

  “Good.” He squeezes my hand a little harder. “Maybe we should go skydiving sometime so we can get you a more uplifting answer to that question,” he says with a smile. “Or shark hunting...”

  “I do not believe shark hunting would have a happy ending,” I respond to his playful suggestion. “I’m not sure I’d live to answer that question again if you made me go shark hunting. If the shark didn’t kill me himself, I’m pretty sure the fear alone would stop my heart.”

  “I will take you diving someday,” he vows.

  “Over my dead–” I stop myself before finishing the sentence. We both stop walking as I lose the words, and my breath. I look down at the ground before Jack angles my body toward his. Not wanting him to see me sad, I take a deep breath and try to compose myself. I glance up and smile at him as he looks at me with concern.

  “I’m fine.” I begin to tap my foot nervously, willing the tears to stop forming and the lump in my throat to go away. He tucks my hair behind my ear and rubs my arm gently. When I blink, two tears escape, and he envelops me in a soft embrace and kisses the top of my head. I hold on to him tightly, continuing to breathe deeply and deliberately, concentrating on my surroundings, on Jack, on how safe I feel in his arms, on things that make me happy. As the tears dissipate, a shop across the street comes into focus.

  “I want some pie,” I mumble into his shirt.

  “What?” he asks.

  I pull back and look at him seriously. “Pie,” I repeat. “I’d like some.”

  “Okay,” he begins, obviously unsure how to handle me. I take his hand in mine once again, and begin walking toward the bakery across the street.

  “Do you like pie?” I ask in hopes of moving on in the conversation.

  “Is that ten?” he responds.

  “Ten what?”

  “Questions. Surely that one was eleven.” He smiles at me smugly, now leading the way across the street to the shop.

  I really think I could follow him anywhere. Again, butterflies. And I love them.

  After we eat pie– mine, the traditional sour cream apple walnut; his, key lime– he asks me if I’d like to join him for a little shopping.

  “Are you forcing me to find some date-appropriate clothes?” I ask with a laugh.

  “Absolutely,” he answers. “I saw this impossibly short skirt earlier today, and these heels. Wow. They were all at this lingerie store, I think it was this way,” he says, pointing and beginning to walk that direction. I laugh and take his hand, pulling him back to me.

  “Is that what you like your women to wear?” I tease him.

  “My women?” he asks. “Emi, honey, I don’t have women. And I only want you. And I don’t care what you wear. Ever.” He picks up our linked hands and kisses the back of mine.

  “That must be true, remembering what I wore to that frat party...”

  “You were adorable.”

  “I looked ridiculous.”

  “No, you didn’t see yourself through my eyes. Trust me.”

  “I–” he puts his finger over my lips.

  “Shhh... stop arguing with me,” he whispers lightly, smiling. When he looks at me like that, I’ll do anything he asks. I just nod. “Thank you. So, you’re in for shopping?”

  “What for, for real?”

  “My niece’s birthday. Jacqueline’s turning six on Sunday.”

  “How fun! Sure, I’m in. Where to?”

  “I was hoping you’d tell me,” he says, looking for a cab. “What do six-year-old girls like?”

  “Well, Clara just turned five. She loves dolls and stuffed animals. And books.”

  “Jackie has a whole library of books. We go to the bookstore every few months to get more. Those kids devour books.”

  “That’s great.”

  “I think so. So let’s talk stuffed animals.” A cab pulls up to the curb and Jack opens the door for me.

  “Fifth and Forty-Sixth,” I tell the cab driver. “We’re going to make Jackie a bear. What is she interested in?”

  “Um...”

  “Like, what does she want to be when she grows up?” I ask him.

  “A mom,” he tells me. “She wants to have twins, like me and her mother. She’s fascinated by twins. She was devastated last year when I told her there was just no possible way for her to actually be a twin.” />
  “Killing the dreams already,” I joke.

  “I was there when she was born,” he admits. “I saw with my own two eyes. I can’t lie to her,” he shrugs and smiles.

  At the bear shop, we both start looking around at the options.

  “What are these, stuffed animal carcasses? How morbid is this?”

  “Shut up!” I hit him playfully on the arm. “Look, there are bears, and dogs, and cats... just find one you think is cute.”

  “Emi, please. I don’t know...”

  “Oh, my god! They have Hello Kitty!”

  “Do you think she’d want that?”

  “No, I do! She was my favorite when I was little.”

  He picks up the white cat by the scruff of her neck and holds her pathetically in front of me. I grab her from him, looking over her sad, limp body.

  “With a little stuffing... and the right outfit...” I say dreamily.

  He takes the animal from me and continues to look. “Come on, focus. What about Jackie? She does like bears.”

  “Personally, I like the curly one. It looks kind of vintage.” I pick one up and model it for Jack playfully.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” he says, picking up one of his own.

  “I’ll do the honors,” I say, trying to put his back.

  “We’re getting twins,” he tells me definitively. I smile at him, falling for him just a little bit more with every thoughtful thing he does. I take both of the bears to the stuffing station, and make sure they’re both filled equally.

  When they’re done, I wander to the clothes and try to find a couple of matching outfits. “Are they twin boys? Or girls? Or one of each?” I look up when Jack doesn’t answer and see him approaching with a fully stuffed Hello Kitty doll.

  “Jack, really, you don’t have to do that,” I blush.

  “Are you kidding? To see you that excited about something so small? If it makes you happy, I want to.”

  “Really, you never have to buy me things to make me happy. You do a pretty good job just being... you.”

  “You’re taking this cat home,” he states in a commanding tone. “I stood there and approved the amount of filling, for heaven’s sake. Look, it even laughs,” he says, squeezing the doll to generate a giggling sound, making me laugh.