Tethered

by L. D. Davis

  He was quiet for a long time. Only the water lapping at the shore and the dock and the occasional nocturnal animal could be heard in the night.

  “She’s pretty,” I said when he didn’t answer me. “Is she in law school, too?”

  “She’s not you,” Emmet said simply.

  I swallowed hard and looked back up at the stars. They were starting to blur with unexpected tears.

  “Why is this still so hard all of this time later?” I whispered.

  Emmet stood up and took my hand and tugged me to my feet. He wrapped his arms around me, but I tried to push him away. I looked back at the house worriedly, expecting Laura to come bounding out at any second.

  “She’s taking a shower and then calling her sister,” he said soothingly, pulling me back to him. “She won’t come out and she can’t see us.”

  “Doesn’t make it right,” I said, brushing at my tears.

  “We’re not doing anything wrong,” he murmured into my hair. “Put your arms around me.”

  I complied and a rush of air blew out of my lungs. Everything about Emmet felt perfect for me, the way his arms held me and the way my arms molded around him. My head fit perfectly between his shoulder and jawline, and when he held me like this, I could always feel his heart beating.

  “I’ll give it all up,” I heard myself say to him.

  Emmet inhaled sharply and remained quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was heavy with regret.

  “No,” he said. “I follow your career very closely, and it is bigger than anything I ever expected. Helene was right about you, and you’re not even close to being done yet, Donya. I am so damn proud of you, and I want to see you reach your full potential just as much as you want to see me finish law school. I love you, more than anything and anyone, and I meant what I said on New Year’s. No one will ever own me completely but you, but you have to see this through.”

  I wiped away at my tears, but I refused to give in and sob in his arms. If I started to sob, I would start to beg – with his girlfriend within a stone’s throw. I pulled away from Emmet and even in the dim light I could see the moisture in his eyes.

  “You never answered my question,” I said, hugging myself. “Can we coexist?”

  Slowly, Emmet nodded. “I’ll try.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  We walked back to the house together in silence.

  The rest of the weekend was uneventful, with the exception of Emmy’s and Sam’s typical bickering. I spent as much time as I could alone, sketching new designs on the dock or in the hammock. Laura didn’t make any more stupid comments and actually proved to be rather funny and intelligent. Even Emmy softened for her a little. I didn’t spend any more alone time with Emmet, but that tether was ever present.

  I flew back to Philly on Monday afternoon. Benny picked me up from the airport and because Emmet had denied me and I felt more alone than ever, I gave Benny what he wanted and what I needed.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The world had changed significantly, not just for me, but for everyone. I cried for weeks after 9/11. Our carefree existence had gone away, but not only did the country and city pull together in a unity I had never seen before, but on a more personal level, I found a new appreciation for all of the people I loved. I spent more time with family and friends, and Emmet and I quickly found that we could coexist. Admittedly, in the days that followed those horrible events, I fell into his arms, a hot terrible mess. The loss of life in one single morning was incomprehensible, and though I didn’t know anyone personally that died, it felt very personal. Emmet and I spent a couple of days together, tangled together in the most intimate ways, giving and receiving comfort and finding some solace in knowing that we had not lost one another in ways the others had lost on that dark day. When it was over, we squared our shoulders and surged forward the best way we could.

  The agreement I had with Benny had been comfortable and satisfying for what it was. True to his word, he made no demands and didn’t put any pressure on me. He was good company and had a way of making me feel cherished even though we weren’t committed, and not for nothing, he was a good lover. He was patient with me as I got acclimated to him, since Emmet had been the only one I had been with before him. Our non-relationship relationship lasted for about eight months before Benny said he had met someone. Even though we weren’t supposed to be emotionally vested, it still hurt both of us to end it, but there were no hard feelings. He married that woman a year and a half later.

  Emmet and Laura had broken up early in Emmet’s last year of law school. He told me that she had become too needy and demanding, especially after she found out that Emmet and I were once engaged. She had become insecure and distrustful, and Emmet didn’t have the time or patience for any of it. The family had pretty much dismissed my past relationship with him as a childhood thing and no one talked about it anymore, especially since it seemed that Emmet and I were friends without the romance, but it wasn’t so easily dismissed by us. That tether was still connecting us down to the molecular level and it seemed that there wasn’t enough time in the world to cure us of that.

  When Emmet graduated from Harvard Law, I was there. I would have moved heaven and earth to be there, and damn near had to. Tears had threatened to spill out of my eyes when they called his name. I was so proud of him, and to see him holding his law degree in his cap and gown was bittersweet. I had to drag us through hell to make this happen, and it somehow seemed worth it.

  Later that night after a celebratory dinner, Sam and Fred retired to their hotel room and I met Emmet at his apartment so that I could give him his gift. Since that Memorial Day weekend, we had not only found a way to coexist, but to be friends. It wasn’t always easy, and in fact it was sometimes painful, but the alternative was living without one another entirely. I didn’t like that option and quickly stamped it out.

  “You know you didn’t have to get me anything,” Emmet said when I handed him the beautifully wrapped box. “Having you here for the graduation was enough of a gift.”

  “Oh, you always say such sweet words with your adorable mouth,” I teased even though his words had warmed me inside. “Just open the damn gift.”

  Emmet shook his head and tried to hide his amused smile as he set the box down on the kitchen island. His couch and most of his other furniture was already gone and en route to his new place in Florida. I didn’t like to think too much about how far away he was going, and how far we would be stretched again.

  Emmet looked up at me suddenly, most likely sensing my roller coaster emotional state, but I gave him my best Donya Super Model smile and gestured for him to get on with the unwrapping. Reluctantly, he turned back to the task at hand. Once the paper was removed, there was a simple brown box, taped shut.

  “Is there going to be a box inside this box?” he asked skeptically. “And another box inside that box and so on?”

  “Would I do that to you?” I asked innocently.

  “Valentine’s Day,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me.

  For Valentine’s Day I had given Emmet a simple Hershey Kiss, not because I could afford nothing else, but because it had significant meaning for us. I had put it in a tiny box, within a box…within a box…within a box…and…within a box. By the time he reached it, he was frustrated and demanded the real thing, but I denied him until I opened my gift. It was a new charm for my bracelet. Like the others, it was white gold, encrusted with diamonds, but even though it was a bit smaller than the other two, it had an enormous impact that had me blinking back tears. It was a key. Just a key, but I knew what the key was for.

  Even though we weren’t a couple, and we were just friends, I kissed him that night, for a solid ten minutes before I was able to step away. The days that followed were awkward, but whenever I thought about it, I smiled.

  And I was smiling about it as Emmet stood there watching me instead of opening his graduation gift.

  “Open it,” I said. “I promise you it is not
a box inside of a box.”

  He gave me a look that promised retribution if I was lying and then cut the tape away with his car key. He pulled the flaps apart and stopped. He stared down into the box for a long moment before glancing at me as he carefully lifted his gift out of the box.

  It was a Ghurka chestnut brown briefcase. It was custom made with his initials engraved on the front flap. Emmet ran his hands over the leather appreciatively.

  “This is…this is great,” he managed, glancing up at me.

  “Open it,” I quietly commanded.

  He looked at me with a bit of skepticism but unlatched it and carefully lifted the flap. His eyes narrowed in on the underside of the flap and I watched his lips move as he silently read the quote that was written there. It said: “Great achievement is usually born of great sacrifice, and is never the result of selfishness. – Napoleon Hill”

  “Donya,” Emmet said, his voice full of emotion as he looked at me.

  “There’s more,” I said softly. “Look inside.”

  He looked into the bag and produced a name plate, engraved in gold set on a block of chestnut wood to match his bag.

  “Emmet Grayne, Esq.,” he read aloud and then looked at me. “You know I haven’t passed the bar yet.”

  “But you will,” I said confidently. “One more thing.” I reached into the bag for him and produced a pen in the same color as the bag and name plate. Emmet Grayne, Esq. was engraved on the pen, too. “It’s refillable, so you’ll never have it sitting around being useless.”

  Emmet held the pen and name plate in his hands as he stared admiringly at the bag. I felt the shift in him before I saw it, a deep, emotional shift that made my heart beat off rhythm. Emmet met my eyes.

  “I can change my plans,” he said quickly. “I can move to New York and take the bar there.”

  I inhaled deeply as my fingers curled around the edge of the counter.

  A couple of months before, he had told me his plans to move to Florida near his brother. He was going to take the bar there and help out with the family business. It had shattered visions I didn’t even know I had, visions of Emmet graduating from college and our lives realigning and of us getting back together. But it wasn’t as simple as that. He still had to take the bar and I was still working pretty hard.

  He was offering me something I really wanted. I could have him back and for good. My heart would be where it belonged and…

  “I’m leaving for Paris in two days,” I whispered. “And you have to take your prep course for the bar.”

  “I’ll take the bar later,” he said, putting the pen and name plate down carefully on the countertop. He moved toward me, snaked his arms around my waist and drew me flush with his body. “Say yes.”

  “You have to keep going,” I said, putting my hands on his chest. “You have to reach your full potential, too, and you can’t do that following me around.”

  “I can study for the bar anywhere,” he argued.

  “You need to take that course and you need to stay focused and you will be able to do that if you stay in one place.” It was killing me to deny him. I blinked back tears and bit my bottom lip.

  “What I need is you,” he said hoarsely.

  I stroked his cheek slowly with the back of my hand. He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch.

  “I’ll quit,” I said. “I’ll finish out my contracts and meet you in Florida.”

  His eyes flew open and he shook his head. “No. You can’t,” he said firmly. “You have to keep going until you are absolutely ready to stop, and I know you’re not. Stopping for me isn’t the same as stopping for yourself.”

  I sighed heavily and closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them, I did so with resolve. I pulled out of his arms, blinked back any tears that wanted to come, and stood out of his reach with my arms crossed in front of me.

  “Anyway,” I said, pretending that what had just transpired never happened. “I’m glad you like your gifts. You deserve them.”

  “Thank you,” he said, looking at me with sad eyes.

  Emmet left later that week and I went back to my life, and it was never the same again.

  *~*~*

  I opened my eyes and squinted at the bright sunlight pouring in through the window. I stretched, starting with my toes and fingers and reached and reached until my fingers were at the top of the headboard and my toes were close to the end of the bed. Stretching finished, I rolled into a sitting position with my feet flat on the floor. I stared at the alarm clock and sighed.

  Another day, another dollar.

  As I showered and got dressed, the 4 Non Blondes’ song What’s Up was on a loop in my head. It had been on a loop since my twenty-fifth birthday. Nearly a year later and I was still asking “What’s going on?”

  In the modeling world, I was over the hill, but even as most of my counterparts in my age group started to fall away, I had managed to hang on, though I didn’t know what for. The job was becoming more like…well a job, a chore even, rather than something rewarding, but there I was, on my way to another shoot.

  One of the reasons I believe I was still somewhat in demand was because I kept myself fresh – changed my hair up from time to time, kept myself dressed in the newest styles before they even hit the general public, and I changed with the changing times. Also, over the years I had been a sponge, soaking up every bit of information about the business that I could, and I used it to my advantage when booking a job or while on the job. So many of the girls just showed up to look pretty and didn’t care about what was happening behind the scenes, but not me. I learned from the designers who were willing to teach me about the design process from beginning to end, about fabrics and textiles, and I even learned how to sew and tailor my own clothes. I learned about photography from Helene and whoever had the patience to teach me. I learned about lighting and settings and threw myself into learning about what happens after the pictures are developed. I even learned the process of putting the fashion magazines together and other avenues of advertising. I kept up with all of the big designers and paid close attention to the newer ones who had great potential. I was all business when working, but polite, and I knew how to stroke an ego without being obvious and shameful about it. It also helped a lot that I aged gracefully and did not look as old as I really was. I was happy to still be working, but I was exhausted. I had reached a point in my career where I could graciously turn down work and not be chastised for it, but there were some that you just didn’t say no to.

  I could easily shift into another aspect of the business, even continue modeling but do more commercial modeling rather than high fashion modeling, but I wasn’t really sure if that was what I really wanted to do. One thing was four sure, I didn’t expect to model forever, and I didn’t want to find myself jobless without any other skills to fall back on. So, right before my twenty-fifth birthday, I started taking online courses. The online courses were easier to manage with my schedule. I still had to struggle to meet deadlines, but I was making it happen.

  Years later, I was still living in the apartment connected to Felix’s penthouse. Felix’s career was bigger than ever, and though he was still a big flirt and a little obnoxious, he had settled down significantly and was engaged to marry a make-up artist he met on set of a movie years before. They had been friends until two years ago when their relationship escalated and he fell head over heels for Ginny. She was pretty, smart, talented, and took absolutely no bullshit whatsoever from her man. I loved it.

  I checked my watch and decided it was time to light a fire under my ass and get moving. I wasn’t necessarily looking forward to this shoot. My coworkers for the day were going to be a few other female models, but also several MBL players. I didn’t know much about baseball. All I knew really was that Derek Jeter was a fox… and a good kisser.

  I didn’t really pay much attention to the baseball players when I walked into the building. They were milling around looking big and sporty and arrogant. Jeter inclined
his head to me and I simply responded with a slight raise in my eyebrow. When I got into the makeshift dressing room behind a curtain and saw what I would be wearing, I rolled my eyes. It was a tiny baseball uniform. Instead of the longer pants the guys wore, I had to put on short shorts. The shirt, fortunately, didn’t cheapen the outfit further with a display of cleavage, but it was so tight I was afraid of popping a button, and it wasn’t like I had much in the boobs area. I slipped my feet into a pair of red heels to match my Phillies’ ‘uniform’ and a hat was placed on my head over my just done hair, which seemed stupid to me. Finally, I was given a bat as a prop.

  “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” my friend Kerry asked, holding up a glove and a ball.

  “The only thing a bat is good for is breaking knee caps,” Rochelle said with her heavy Boston accent.

  I concurred, and even smiled at their reactions, but I didn’t speak my thoughts out loud. The powers that be don’t like to hear their models complain. I learned that when I was just a rookie.

  A little while later I was introduced to my ‘partner’, the man I would be posing with. Technically most of the shots were going to be group shots, but since this Jerry guy was the Philadelphia player and I was in a Phillies’ getup, it was him I had to favor.

  I guess I didn’t mind Jerry. He was good looking enough, with a dark caramel skin tone, short dark, wavy hair, and gray eyes. He had a very nice, strong build. His Armani suit looked like it was made specifically for him and it probably was. He wasn’t as bulky as some athletes I had met over the years, but he looked like he could take down a lion nonetheless. But what really wrapped up the package, nice and sweet like was those gray eyes. I had to force myself not to stare at them.

  “I’m not really much of a model,” Jerry said close to my ear before the shoot started. He had a vague accent I couldn’t place, maybe somewhere from the Caribbean. “You may have to lead me on.”

  My forehead furrowed as I looked at him. He realized his choice of words and covered his mouth with an “Oh shit” and big eyes.