by London Casey
“You like the smell of fresh cut grass?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
Emily was intriguing. It pissed me off that she was intriguing. Because being intriguing meant being a distraction.
“It’s just refreshing,” she said. “I don’t know. But, anyway, I do have some planters that we could paint. It’s not a big deal. I don’t mind helping.”
I just stood there, unsure how to take in the situation.
“Fresh cut grass,” was all I said to Emily.
She shrugged her shoulders. “When you live through the last few years I’ve had, Jake, you learn to appreciate the little things.”
“What…”
I was going to ask her about her last few years.
Again… intrigued. She distracted me.
“Emily!” Sadie called out from the deck.
I looked at Sadie jumping, waving Bo in her left hand.
“I better get going here,” Emily said. “I can handle you being mean to me, Jake. But I don’t want Sadie being mean to me.”
She smiled and walked away.
I turned and thought about reaching for her.
I wasn’t mean to her. Was I? I was just… me. Who I had become through the last two years of all this mess.
I stepped back to the lawnmower and watched the scene unfold.
Emily saying something to Sadie. Sadie laughing. Emily walking away toward her house. The way Sadie looked at Emily…
I swallowed hard.
It wasn’t right or fair that Sadie had to endure tragedy at such a young age. But did that mean she was meant to suffer without any woman in her life? It had never really occurred to me until then. Call me selfish, whatever you want, but my heart had no interest or business in caring for any other except Sadie. Yet because of that it was Sadie who would never get the true love she deserved.
The love of a mother… by blood or by promise…
I shook my head. My mouth was suddenly dry, desperate for a drink. Not some fresh lemonade, the kind Everly used to make. I wanted whiskey. Warm, hard whiskey. The kind that made your eyes water and your throat burn. The kind that made your stomach cry. The kind that made your liver quickly get a shovel and begin to dig its own grave.
I squeezed the lever on the lawnmower and pulled the cord to fire the engine back up.
I cut the grass as Emily carried over a clear tote full of art supplies with two terra cotta planters on top.
I couldn’t remember the last time Sadie looked so happy. Probably not since I let her put makeup on me a few months ago. Except whatever the hell makeup she had used was more like a permanent marker and it took me days to get it all off. Which meant I took a little hell from Mickey at the shop.
As I rounded the back yard for what would be the second to last strip of grass needing to be cut, I stopped. I watched the way Emily was with Sadie. Caring. Delicate. Yeah, working the same angle she did at the center. She was trained to be that way. Paid to be that way. But I knew better. There was something there. Sadie didn’t look at anyone the way she looked at Emily. Except me. Except… her mother…
Emily touched Sadie’s cheek and said something. Sadie nodded. She stuck her tongue out as she painted, her tell tale sign that she was heavily concentrating.
Emily moved across the yard to her house once again.
I slowly started to push the mower again.
When Emily appeared from her house, she had two drinks with her. A beer in each hand. She paused at the top step of her deck as she looked at me. I looked at her. She lifted both bottles and shrugged her shoulders, smiling.
I gave a head nod.
She got me a drink. A cold beer. After working in the yard. Someone to share a drink with. To enjoy…
It took me another ten minutes to finish cutting the yard.
I had my beer, sat with my daughter as she finished painting her unicorn on the planter.
Emily sat across from us.
I stole a few glances at Emily, wondering what the hell was happening.
Then Sadie twisted things a little deeper.
“Daddy, when I’m done, can I plant flowers?” she asked me.
“Of course you can,” I said. “We’ll go to the flower store and pick something nice out.”
“And for Emily? Can we pick out flowers for her?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Emily, what’s your favorite color?” Sadie asked.
“Purple,” Emily said.
So was Everly’s.
“Purple, Daddy,” Sadie said. “Remember that.”
I touched my forehead. “Got it.”
“Daddy, can Emily come over for dinner? The three of us. Not you two. Not a date.”
“What? Who told you…”
“Mickey said you need a date,” Sadie said.
I growled under my breath.
Goddamn you, Mick.
I looked at Emily. “Sorry. Mickey is the guy that owns the garage… he has a big mouth…”
“And he smokes cigers,” Sadie said. “Daddy says they make your lungs black.”
“Oh, that’s not good,” Emily said.
“I’m not going to smoke cigers,” Sadie said. “Nope. Never.”
“You’re very smart, Sadie,” Emily said.
“So, are you going to stay here for pizza or what?” Sadie asked, so blunt.
Emily laughed.
“Sadie,” I said.
“What?” she asked with the attitude of a sixteen year old.
“Tell you what,” Emily said. She put a hand to Sadie’s. “Do you know what a rain check is?”
Sadie looked up. “Rain?”
“It means you take someone’s promise and save it for later. I would love to have pizza with you, Sadie. And your dad.” Emily looked at me. I didn’t like how it made me feel. At all. “But I can’t today or tonight. Okay?”
“Okay,” Sadie said.
“You can finish working on your painting,” I said. “I’m going to go put the lawnmower away and clean up a little.” I looked at Emily. “That okay?”
She nodded. “Fine. I promise.”
I leaned forward and kissed Sadie’s head.
I stood up.
I made it two steps and paused. I looked back.
Emily was still looking at me.
I swallowed hard. A bit of anger. A bit of grief. A lot of pride.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Emily nodded.
We stared at each other for a couple extra seconds than were needed.
Those seconds broke my heart and changed my life.
Dear Everly,
We never really talked seriously about this part. The what happens next part. We tried a few times but ended up kissing and that always lead to something else. We just lived in our own world. Our endless world. Our greatest achievement yet our greatest failure in some ways.
There was one thing we talked about. You called it funny stuff. You laughingly warned me about the funny stuff. Your way of saying don’t ever cheat on me. Everly, you knew damn well I’d never cheat on you. And anyone that ever did was a complete asshole. But at the same time, how could I be mad at those other guys? Because they brought you to me.
I have people whispering in my ear, Everly. Rumors of someone that likes me. You believe that. Likes me? Like we’re in grade school. I’m waiting to see a note slipped under the door.
Check yes if you like me…
But I get it. This is a weird place to be in. A new world. A crazy world. I don’t want this world. I didn’t mean to land here. I didn’t ask for it. I flew through space and time like a wild man until you showed up. You grabbed me and pulled me to the ground, Everly.
Now my feet are concrete blocks on the ground.
I have to be here though for our daughter.
Yet I hear whispers.
People suggest to me about going on a date or some shit. How? How can I do that? The question seems tougher than actually doing it.
&nb
sp; Well, I never thought I’d write this to you, but the funny stuff…
Are we still together, Everly?
That’s the question I can’t figure out.
We didn’t break up. We didn’t call it quits. We didn’t take a break. We didn’t hurt each other, Everly. We were ripped apart. Time and fate colliding in some moment of twisted anger, some punishment to me, to our daughter, to you, handed down without any reason why.
I have no reason why, Everly.
I can’t live that way.
I want to be able to know the reason so I can face it. So I can see that reason and wear it as my reminder of whatever it is that had gone so fucking wrong to make the world decide you should be somewhere else.
But the question still gets to me.
Are we still together?
My heart screams yes. My mind screams yes. But time says no. Time is pulling me forward. I’m like a dog on a leash for a walk. Miles upon miles, no water, the sun beating on me, no shade. My legs tired, weak, losing sight. Falling. Being dragged. Time is stronger than anything I could ever be, Everly.
The hours in the basement, demanding my body to lift heavier weights. To shed the sweat and the pain, keeping your memory but giving back tears.
We are together, Everly. Just in a new way now. Through our, daughter I will forever see you. Through our daughter, I will help her build strength in body but she’ll forever have the strength of your heart.
But the funny stuff, Everly.
Someone moved in next door. I don’t want a friend. I don’t want a new neighbor either. But something happened. It was just this moment. This moment where I felt like I was in a different place. Quiet, alone. A different house. Just this moment. And I caused it. I made it happen. Not someone else.
I don’t know if I’m wrong, Everly. I really don’t.
I just want you here. I want to see you curled up on the couch under a blanket with a bowl of popcorn. Enamored by some dumb show. Seeing your eyes light up at the important parts. I bet you didn’t know I watched you. Not the TV. Screw the TV. That shit is made up. Looking at you… it’s real. And that’s what this confession is about, Everly. Because that moment… the funny stuff… looking at… well, it sort of felt real, too.
I love you endlessly,
Jake
Chapter Twelve
A Little Favor
(Jake)
I stepped out onto the front porch and looked down at the unicorn painted terra cotta planter with some purple and red flowers sticking out. I had tried to plant marigolds but the fucking things died two days later. Sadie hated their golden color anyway, saying they didn’t match.
Low and behold, that same day here came Emily with flowers of her own. Flowers for her planter and flowers for mine. Well, Sadie’s. So now they were flower buddies. That’s what Emily called it. And they were going to make sure they reminded each other to water the flowers every single day.
It had been a damn week since they painted the things. Since I cut the grass. Since I had a beer and watched as Emily slid into the shadow of another that wasn't there.
I wasn’t okay with it.
Yet Sadie couldn’t stop talking about it.
Which led me to my fucking morning.
Standing there with a cup of black coffee. Jet black, super hot, burning my tongue like the words I refused to let slip from my mouth.
Mickey fucking slipped and fell two days ago at the garage. He smacked his knee but he also smacked his head. The crazy son of a bitch just kept working even though he was off balance for almost an hour. He said it was nothing a cigarette and some coffee couldn’t fix. I caught him half asleep an hour later and made him go to the hospital. I had one of the guys - Jerry - take him. They ran tests and said he was mildly concussed. And his knee was banged up bad but nothing was torn.
What did Mickey do? He showed up the next day to work. And the son of a bitch popped up from under the hood of a car when a bolt let go. He smashed his head a second time. This time it knocked him out for a good ten seconds.
He was ordered on bed rest for twenty-four hours, preferably more. He wanted to close the garage but I didn’t want to let him down. Not because of my personal situation. The guy was entitled to a sick day here and there. Not to mention we were backed up. Jerry wasn’t working for a week because his wife had to go in for surgery. So it was just me and Paul at the garage. I had the keys. He didn’t. We had work to get done, promises to keep for customers, but more than that, I needed a favor from Emily.
Normally the babysitter was okay with extra time. Lisa was fantastic but only looked after kids that were under kindergarten age. Which meant in another year or two I would be out of a babysitter. But by then Sadie would be in school all day.
School all day. Growing up.
I took another gulp of hot coffee and walked off the porch. I couldn’t believe what I was about to do.
Lisa wasn’t available for extra hours because her two kids had dentists appointments that had taken weeks to get. This was my world now. Fucking doctors, dentists, fluoride, x-rays on teeth, worrying about the fucking Tooth Fairy. When a cough wasn’t a cough. Fighting to take medicine because it tasted like shit.
It was all so much and so fast.
But to simplify everything - I needed someone to help.
So I walked up the porch steps and looked down at Emily’s planter. The same flowers as were on my porch.
I knocked on the door.
A handful of seconds later, the door opened as Emily peeled a towel off her head. Her wet hair fell to the right side of her shoulder, tight curls at the bottom. The color extra dark from being wet. Her face naturally beautiful, no need for makeup. And my heart telling my eyes to see all these things.
“Jake. Everything okay? Sadie…”
“We’re fine,” I said.
I’ll find someone else. I’ll get Sadie from school and bring her to the garage. She’ll hate it but she has no choice. She wouldn’t be the first kid in history to get dragged to their parents job. I’ll give her my phone, some crayons, let her play with Mickey’s chair that moves up and down…
“Do you need something?” Emily asked.
“No,” I said. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you. I would have called but I don’t have your number.”
“All you have to do is ask,” Emily said with a little grin.
I swallowed hard. I felt my teeth chattering.
“You should water your flowers,” I said. “Just a reminder.”
I turned and walked away.
I made it down one step.
“Jake. Wait.”
I paused.
“You walked across the yard to tell me that?”
I turned slightly. I was almost eye level with Emily. I couldn’t stop looking at her hair. Her face. Her eyes. The small and delicate features of her face that made her real, the ones she probably feared and would cover up with makeup.
After a few seconds, she nodded. “Right. I’ll water the flowers before I leave. Thanks for the tip. As far as my number goes, if you give me your phone I’ll put it in there so you have it.”
I touched my pocket. My phone was there. Right there.
“That’s okay,” I said. “I know where you live.”
Emily raised an eyebrow. “Jake, why did you come over here?”
I didn’t answer.
Emily shuffled forward a little. She reached for me. I felt her hand touch my right shoulder. I watched her fingers slide over my shoulder. Her nails were a red color, chipped from the top. She was the kind of woman that wanted to pamper herself but never had the time. And when she did, it was maybe once a month.
And for some reason, I liked that. I understood it.
“Are you sure everything is okay?” she asked.
I stepped down another step. I put distance between us.
“The garage is short staffed today,” I said. “And we’re backed up. I’d normally ask Sadie’s babysitter to just watch her but s
he can’t. So I’m sort of screwed.”
“Okay,” Emily said.
I made fists. “So I guess I’m asking if you’d be willing to help out. Watch her until I’m done at the garage. I’ll pay you whatever you want for the time. I’ll make sure she-”
“Jake. I’d be happy to help.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” I said. “I pick her up after school as we call it and take her to Lisa’s. I’ll talk to Lisa and let her know-”
“Jake,” Emily said. She smiled.
“What?” I snapped. I felt my lip curling.
“Why don’t you let me just take her when I’m done? It’s usually twenty minutes after the kids leave. I’ll bring her right back here. We’ll hang out at my house or I can take her to your house. Whatever you’d prefer to do.”
“Really?” I asked again.
“Yes,” she said again.
The whole asking for help wasn’t my thing. But I had the help. Right next door.
I walked forward and back up the steps. “Okay. I have an extra seat for the car for her. I’ll leave that on your porch. I’ll make sure she has an extra snack.” I reached for my wallet. “Let me give you some money for dinner…”
Emily put her hand to mine. Her fingers slid down between my thumb and forefinger, grabbing my hand.
“Jake. I’ve got it. Just go to work. Do what you need to do.”
“Let me know the rate.”
“There is no rate.”
I turned my head and gritted my teeth. “Look, Emily, I’m not looking to make this into something it’s not.”
“Meaning what?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“Try me, Jake,” she said. “And make it quick, we’re both going to be late.”
I then let words fly. Before actually considering what I was going to say.
“Because I don’t want this to be the thing. Our thing. A thing. I’m asking for a favor. I’m going to pay you so there’s no emotion or connection to this. I’m in a pinch and I shouldn’t have even asked. Because I knew you were going to do this. You were going to be extra nice and not want money. So why? Why are you doing that? Huh? Because of what I said to you that one time? You think I don’t deal with enough bullshit pity on a daily basis? Or what else is it?”
