Emma nodded again, unsure of what else to do. Barb rose beside her and Emma followed. Emma walked like a zombie into the hall, where Barb stopped her again.
“They need us,” she said. “We can give them a sense of normalcy and routine. It’s okay to be sad.”
“How could I not be? He was a baby, Barb.” She took another deep, steadying breath. “Are kids even going to show up today? I think I would keep my kids home.”
“Some parents will. Most will send them. What else can they do?” Barb patted her arm. “Let them be five-year-olds here.”
Emma went back to her classroom to prepare for her day. Her lesson plan went out the window. She flipped through her basket of books to try to find something appropriate. Then there was a knock on her door. She turned to see a young woman standing at the threshold with a box.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m Candice Stahl. The grief counselor.”
Emma’s face must’ve reflected her disbelief because Ms. Stahl continued, “I was told you were aware I was coming.”
Emma shook herself. “Yeah, I’m sorry. To be honest, I didn’t think you were actually going to show. But, boy, am I glad you’re here.”
They had roughly five minutes to chat and come up with a plan before the bell rang. Students came streaming in and Emma wondered how many, if any, of them knew about Darius.
Then Tyler strode up to her, his face twisted in anger.
“They got him, Miss Long. They shot Darius.” His bottom lip trembled, and he pressed his lips tight to hide it. Tears pricked Emma’s eyes again.
“I know, Tyler. We’re going to talk about it.” She turned to Candice. “This is Ms. Stahl, and she’s going to help us.”
* * *
Emma had never worked a week as long as that one. She moved through the days on autopilot: holding kids who would burst into tears because they remembered their friend wasn’t coming back, diffusing angry outbursts caused by frustration, attempting to give these kids some sense of routine and normalcy. Unfortunately, she knew that knowing someone who’d been gunned down was normal for many of them.
She and Barb decided to go to the wake together Friday after school. Emma would be eternally grateful to Barb. Emma wanted to go for Darius’s family, his sister, and his classmates, but she didn’t know how to handle it. As screwed up as her childhood had been, she’d never feared for her life or had friends die. What was she supposed to say? I’m sorry was so completely inadequate.
Barb drove to the funeral home. “We don’t need to stay long, you know. Pay our respects, talk to Darius’s family, let them know the school is there for them, especially Skye.”
Emma nodded, her throat dry. She needed a stiff drink. They parked and Emma finally spoke. “Thanks for going with me. This is harder than I thought.”
“You never get used to it. You’ll go to other wakes and funerals, but it hurts every time.”
The thought of this happening again made Emma sick. They walked down the street, where a group of young men were gathered around the door to the funeral home. They watched Emma and Barb get closer. There were a few snickers, and Emma thought one said, “You lost.” Not a question, but a statement.
Emma glanced over her shoulder as one of the guys smacked another in the shoulder.
Then he stepped closer and said, “Mrs. Weiman.”
Barb turned around. “DeMarcus?”
He nodded.
Barb wrapped her arms around this guy as far as she could, which wasn’t much because he had to be near six and a half feet tall. His face was still young though.
“It’s so good to see you. Are you staying out of trouble? Still playing basketball?”
“Of course. Coach says some college scouts are going to be at our games.” He smiled proudly as he tucked his hands into the pockets of jeans that looked ready to slide off his body. “You Darius’s teacher?”
“No.” Barb flicked a thumb at Emma. “She was. I have Skye in my class this year.”
He nodded and then opened the door to the funeral home for them. “Darius’s mom is at the front. Skye’s with her.”
Barb led the way into the room. Emma hadn’t asked specifics about where Darius had been shot because she didn’t want to know, but now she wasn’t prepared to see that little boy in a casket. She said nothing but followed blindly behind Barb.
Thank goodness the casket was closed and covered with a slew of photographs of Darius. Once again, the enormity of his young life being over hit Emma. Barb went to Darius’s mother and introduced them. Skye was there and she took Barb’s hand and led her away to tell her something, leaving Emma staring at Darius’s mom.
Emma had never met her before, but she had met Darius’s grandmother, who had been one of the few people to show at the open house in September. Emma had immediately recognized her as Darius’s family. They had the same eyes. Emma looked at Darius’s mom who had those same eyes, only sadder, and thought she looked older than she should have. She supposed something like this aged a person quickly.
“Hi, Mrs. Bates. I’m Emma Long. I’m—was Darius’s teacher. I didn’t know him long, but what I did see was a happy, bright little boy.” She had to swallow then because the tears threatened as her throat tightened.
“Miss Long, he talked about you every day. Told me about how pretty you are and all the stories you read to them. Thank you.” She shook Emma’s hand.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have any words to convey my sadness at your loss.”
A fat tear rolled down the woman’s face as she nodded at Emma. “Thank you for coming.”
She was stronger than Emma thought she would have been if roles had been reversed. Emma offered a tight smile and moved away from the immediate family.
This shouldn’t have been so difficult. Emma had only known Darius two weeks and she felt the sharp pain of loss. Darius had been one of those kids she looked forward to seeing every day. He came in with a smile and was eager and excited to learn. His laugh had been infectious. Emma would miss him. Not the same way she did students who moved on to the first grade. That was a natural progression. She was happy to see them grow and leave her. Plus, there was always the chance they would come back to visit her or she’d see them in the hall or on the playground.
She wouldn’t have that chance with Darius.
Barb came by and tapped her. Emma’s eyes were focused on the pictures of Darius. “I’m not cut out for this, Barb. I’m not strong enough.”
“Liar. You are.”
“How am I supposed to teach those little kids letters and numbers and tell them stories when this is their reality?”
Barb took her arm and pulled her toward the back of the room. “You teach them. You give them hope. You tell them there’s more to life. This doesn’t have to be their future. They have the power to change it.”
Emma let the words sink in, but she wasn’t sure she believed them. A small hand tugged at hers and she looked down. Stacy Littleton was standing next to her.
“Hi.”
Emma wasn’t sure if seeing Stacy at the funeral home was what took her by surprise or if it was that Stacy had come to talk to her. Stacy didn’t initiate any conversation in class. Not with Emma or any of the children. “Hi, Stacy.”
“Are you here to say good-bye to Darius, too?”
“I am. I liked him a lot and I’ll miss him.”
“Me too.” Then she spun on her heel, took two steps, and stopped. Over her shoulder, she asked, “See you at school?”
“Bright and early Monday morning.” The smile she gave Stacy was genuine and not tight or stiff.
Stacy skipped off to where her mom had been waiting.
“See? You’re a natural,” Barb said.
“There’s definitely something wrong with the world if I need to be a natural at this.”
“No argument there, babe. Ready to go?”
“Absolutely.”
Barb drove Emma back to school, where she’d left her car
. They waved as they parted without speaking. They’d canceled their usual Friday night at the bar.
Emma needed a drink even if she wasn’t meeting the others. But she wasn’t up for going to a bar alone. On the way to her house, she stopped at the liquor store and bought a six-pack of beer. She never kept more in her house because it would encourage Nicky to come by and drink.
The quiet of her apartment poked at her and made her feel lonely, so she turned on the radio as she drank her first beer. After the second beer, she wasn’t feeling any better and she wasn’t drunk enough to feel numb. When she started her third beer, her brain started toying with the idea of calling Sean.
Her phone was in her hand as she drank, and she tried to remember why it was a bad idea to call him. She knew she’d been telling herself not to, but now, it didn’t seem to matter. She didn’t want to be alone. And Sean would show her a good time. She wouldn’t have to think about this horrible week and this unbearable afternoon. Before her bottle was empty, she was hitting SEND.
The phone rang and rang. Then went to voicemail. She disconnected and tried not to feel disappointed. What had she expected? She’d dodged him for the last two weeks. He’d moved on just like she’d attempted to.
* * *
Sean toweled off in the locker room and pulled on his jeans. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked and saw a missed call from Emma. He blinked and checked again to make sure he hadn’t misread the name. She didn’t leave a message, though. Maybe she accidentally called. He set his phone on the bench and pulled his T-shirt over his head. When he sat down to put on his shoes, he stared at the phone.
Tommy swung open the locker next to his. “You coming to McGinty’s?”
“Maybe. Emma called.”
“Cool. Bring her.”
“Maybe.” Sean picked up the phone and looked at it.
Tommy ran a towel over his head and then hung it on the open locker door. “It ain’t gonna call her by itself.”
“Shut up.” He hit CALL with Tommy staring at him. Sean shoved his feet into his shoes and grabbed his bag.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Sean. I missed your call.”
“Oh, uh . . .”
Damn. It had been an accident. But then why had she answered now?
“Hey, Emma, you want to meet us at McGinty’s?” Tommy yelled from behind him.
Sean threw an arm up and walked out of the locker room.
“What was that?”
“Tommy.”
“Did I interrupt your night?”
“I’m just leaving practice. What’s up?”
“Are you doing anything now?”
“Probably heading to McGinty’s.”
“Oh. Okay. Have fun.”
“Wait. Why’d you call?”
“I thought you might want to come over.”
This conversation was overly polite and he hated it. Although they hadn’t spent that much time together, he and Emma didn’t talk like this. “What’s going on, Emma?”
“I had a really bad week. Like worst ever.” Her voice cracked a little, and he realized that she was upset.
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Want to.” He hung up before she could try to talk him out of it. As he unlocked his car, Tommy came out of the rink. “See you later. Going to Emma’s.”
“Try not to screw it up this time,” Tommy said before turning toward his car.
“Fuck you,” Sean called after him. But as he sat behind the wheel, he had the same thought. He liked Emma and wasn’t ready to cut things short with her.
On the way to her apartment, he stopped at the grocery store and bought a small birthday cake. If her week was as bad as it sounded, she could use some cake.
He parked down the block from her apartment, grabbed the cake, and jogged down the sidewalk. He rang her bell and hoped she wouldn’t ignore him. He rang the bell again and waited. A couple of minutes later, he saw her walking down the steps. She looked a little unsteady.
She swung the door wide. “You came.”
“You said you wanted company.”
“But you were going to McGinty’s.”
He normally wouldn’t give up drinking with the guys for a chick, but . . . “I think you’ll be more fun.”
She smiled and stepped away from the door. He followed her back up the stairs. She held the rail the whole way.
“Are you drunk?”
“Buzzed. Bad week, remember?”
They walked through her door and he kicked it shut. “I brought cake.”
“What?”
She turned and stared at him.
He set the bag with the cake on her counter. “You said you had the worst week. Cake makes everything better, right?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“What’s wrong?” He moved close and pulled her into his arms.
“I didn’t want you to bring me cake.”
“I was trying to be nice.” His hands stroked down her back.
“I don’t want you to be fucking nice to me.”
“What do you want?”
She leaned up and kissed his neck. “I want to forget.”
With her body pressed so close, forgetting would be easy to do. He lowered his mouth and kissed her. He loved the taste of her as their tongues tangled. He breathed her in so he would never forget this. He walked her backward toward the bedroom, moving slowly to keep her from tripping and to allow kissing to continue.
Damn, he’d missed her lips. Had it really only been two weeks since he’d been with her?
The bedroom was dark, but the light filtering in from the hall was enough to see the way. He remembered her impatience the last time they’d made this trip. She’d been naked long before they’d neared the bed. Right now, she was still fully clothed, wearing her teacher outfit from work.
Even half-buzzed, she looked far more proper than he liked her to be. He enjoyed the foul-mouthed Emma who told him to fuck her hard and fast. She was there somewhere. After all, she’d called him.
She pulled away from him and unbuttoned her blouse while backing into the room. She wobbled, but didn’t lose her balance. With his eyes on her, he yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it in the corner. They moved in silence, watching each other strip. When there was nothing but skin and air between them, he closed the distance again and she was in his arms.
They moved to the bed and Emma lay back, completely open to him. He started at her mouth and kissed his way down her body, stopping to pay extra attention to her tits. He sucked each nipple in turn until she squirmed under him. He pinched one nipple while kissing her other breast, licking the underside, sucking on the side. He sucked hard enough to cause a gasp and leave a mark.
He liked having a mark on her, even if no one else could see it. She would know. Her hips wiggled and gyrated in response. Regardless of how she dressed or how she restricted what she said, Emma liked it a little rough. He pushed her thighs open wide and slid his hand between them. He stroked her and her eyes fluttered closed.
“Fuck, yeah,” she whispered. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.
He wasn’t sure if she was simply hanging on or pushing him down, but he knew he wanted to taste her completely. He removed his fingers and replaced them with his mouth, running his tongue down her slit. He did it again because he loved the taste of her.
Her hands moved to the top of his head to hold him in place. He kissed and sucked until she came on a long moan. He rose up and grabbed a condom from her nightstand. Braced on his elbows, he drove into her.
Her eyes reopened and watched him. She stroked his arms, his chest, his ribs. Even in the dim light filtering in from the hall and the street, he saw her eyes. In them, he saw that she was happy he’d come tonight. It didn’t matter why she’d avoided him for the last couple of weeks because she wanted him here now.
That was enough.
Except for deep sighs and moans
, they made no sounds. No talking, no joking. They played with each other’s bodies until they were both breathless and sweaty. Sean rolled off her and stretched out on the bed, trying to catch his breath. His heart hammered in his chest.
Emma didn’t move. He reached down in the slight space between them and held her hand. She twitched at his touch, but he held tight. They lay together for a long time, long enough for deep night to set in.
“What happened this week?” he finally asked.
She rolled her head to face him. “One of my students was shot and killed.”
“One of your kindergarteners?”
She nodded slowly.
“Fuck.”
“Like I said, bad week.”
He pushed up on an elbow. He stroked her cheek. “Babe, bad week is an understatement. You okay?”
She nodded silently, but her eyes glistened. Hell, no, she wasn’t okay. He gently kissed her cheeks. His fingers glided through her hair. He wanted to make her feel better, to comfort her. But she reached between their bodies and wrapped her fist around his dick. She stroked hard and fast, and his blood rushed to meet her.
He rested his forehead against hers.
A wicked little grin formed on her lips. “Fuck me. Take me hard like you did the first time in your bedroom.”
He didn’t want to take her hard and fast. He wanted to take care of her.
“Don’t you dare do that, O’Malley.”
“Do what?”
“Look at me like that. I don’t need your pity. I need your dick.” She gripped him hard and pumped.
His hips had a mind of their own and thrust into her hand. Everything about her felt so damn good, even when she was pissed, but he pulled back out of her grasp.
“Fuck, Sean.” She pushed up on her elbows. “What’s the matter with you? This is what I called you for.”
He got the message loud and clear. He was good for a fuck, but nothing more. She was wrong about that, and he’d prove it. “You want it hard, Emma?”
She nodded.
He lowered his mouth and nipped her bottom lip. Her eyelids drooped and she eased forward to catch his lips again, but since she didn’t want him to be nice, he wouldn’t be. He stroked and grabbed and fondled every inch of her until she was strung tighter than an archer’s bow. He had her riding the edge of her orgasm and wouldn’t quite let her get there.
In Your Arms Page 12
