Emma Knows All

by Briggs, Laura

  "What's really happening here, Em? Nothing." His hand was on her arm, trying to keep her from leaving. Because Frank had begun to realize that's exactly what she intended to do. "Not tonight, not any night. Nothing happened, I promise."

  "Maybe so." Em smiled, sadly. "Maybe nothing ever happened. Between us, I mean. Maybe I was just fooling myself all this time."

  "Because of a dinner? A few pages of notes? Em, don't —" Em could see the lines of tension crossing his face, even though he was avoiding her eyes again. Was he ashamed of what she would see? Guilt? Regret? Anger? "Don't do this, Em."

  "We can't go on like this, Frank. I don't think you even have an idea where we are right now, much less where this was supposed to end up. There's no future, Frank."

  "You know, I wasn't going to use your work without credit, Em. You know that, right?" Frank countered. His voice was breaking, the sound of desperation in it. "If you had just waited until the book was finished, you would have seen that. I mean, you've been a very big help, and I sense why you're upset about this. But I can talk to Cheryl and change all that..."

  "Call Janet. Have dinner with her tomorrow, too. It's fine with me." She lifted her bag onto her shoulder, turning the knob to Frank's door. "But, please, hire yourself an editor from now on."

  She closed the door behind her. Frank's words about his manuscript echoed in her head. You've been a very big help... your opinion on my work is valuable....All words uttered so confidently, so easily, without a trace of humility for the absence of his ideas on the page. Frank had never been humble, but she had never suspected him of being deceptive. Not once in the past two years of their relationship.

  That party where Frank first met Colin — had he attended it with someone other than herself, she wondered? The whole time he had been dating her openly, had he been flirting with other women at cocktail parties, meeting them at restaurants for dinner? Keeping his options open while keeping her on hand?

  Now she understood the disgust in Colin's voice when he mentioned Frank's name. Sadly, and strangely, she found herself agreeing with him, as the first tears escaped her eyes.

  *****

  Two years of caring about someone can't be forgotten, even after five minutes of ugly truth. Em sat alone at the diner a few blocks from home, trying her hardest not to cry. It was easier to stave it off in public, where witnesses were helping her keep the tears at bay. Maybe there was something to Colin's stance on public dignity after all.

  The coffee in front of her was growing cold. So was her heart, although it was also raw and fragile deep within her. Frank had seemed so honest. So clever, so fascinating, so warm and open. How could she not see the flaws beneath that charm, when she could see the flaws beneath Colin's facade so easily? Both disguising themselves from the public eye, both hiding different frailties beneath their masks.

  Strange that it should be Colin's true face that proved to be the least repulsive. It seemed unfair that the man she accused of lying to her would expose her own boyfriend as a liar. She never believed Colin, had never planned to trust his words. Her apology to him had been a conditional one — a partial regression of her dislike in order to keep him from saying anything else painful. Now, she supposed, she owed him a real one, as another tear slid down her cheek, splashing into the coffee below.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Four months had passed since the end of Harriet's project. When the first signs of autumn hit Seattle, Em noticed the change in the leaves with relish. Changing seasons always brought a rush of feelings and energy, like an emotional clean slate inside her. Beneath the red and gold leaves in the park and along the street, she inhaled deep breaths of cool, sharp air as she walked along.

  A passing bus had the new advertisement for Heart Therapy pasted on its side. She liked this latest picture much better — less secret smile, more sisterly confidence, as Isabel put it.

  Hoisting her bag higher, she pulled her ringing cell phone from its pocket. "Hello? Yes, I'm on my way, Iz. Be there in five minutes." She hung up again.

  It made a difference in herself, of course, that she had decided to forgive Frank, and — in her initial guilt — Colin. Frank was the hardest one. Leaving his phone calls unanswered couldn't last forever, she knew. Agreeing to talk through their would-be relationship, however, was also not one.

  "You broke up with Frank?" Isabel's initial reaction was one of shock. "The 'Modern Man' of relationships? Girl, are you crazy? You spent half your free time dating him for the past two years. You talked about him like the best thing since sliced bread."

  "So I thought," said Em, suppressing a bitter laugh. "But I think ... Frank and I have different goals for our relationship. And I want someone whose goal is to get to know me for me." She picked at the edge of the coffee shop's Formica table. It had only been two weeks at that point. Two very difficult, disillusioning weeks.

  Isabel raised her eyebrows. "What are you saying?" she asked. "Was this all a celebrity crush kind of thing?" Her producer's shrewd gaze detected there was more to the story than Em was telling.

  "It was a mistake," said Em, sadly. "Let's leave it at that." She didn't want to talk about the notes in the drawer, or Frank's obvious interest in Janet Fairfax. Not yet, anyway.

  She spoke to him a couple of times afterwards. "Listen, Em...I'm sorry that you feel hurt," he said. "I didn't mean to make you think I was using you. And if that's how you feel...then I understand why you don't want to talk."

  "Were we ever really together?" she asked him. "Did you ever see a future for us, Frank?"

  She heard a long pause on the other end. Frank exhaled a ragged breath. "It's just ... complicated, Em."

  The answer was no. He couldn't bring himself to say it aloud, she sensed.

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  "I'm sorry, too." Em didn't cry when she spoke this aloud. She was almost done crying.

  Frank and Janet were probably dating now, Em knew. She hadn't asked any of their mutual friends if it was true, preferring not to know. It didn't matter to her. The only thing she knew for certain was that Frank's book was still unfinished. Whenever she imagined his publisher's consternation, she couldn't help but form a tiny smile. They probably had a long wait if they wanted the sequel to the Modern Man's Guide, unless Janet Fairfax had become Frank's next muse.

  "Big plans for tonight?" George asked. He was grafting roses along his front fence as Em parked her car along the street.

  "Just the usual," said Em. "Hit the gym, see a movie. Not call back my mother." She gave him a smile as she pushed open her yard's gate.

  "Sounds like fun," he answered. "Say hello to your mother for me."

  The latest Benton crisis was Lydia's failed SATs. Em's mother had been steadily phoning about it for weeks — at least, until the good news about Jane.

  "Engaged, Emmy! And I thought it would never happen! He's such a nice boy, too. And the size of her ring! Oh, Emmy, you should see it!"

  "Jane sent me a picture, Mama." It was a big diamond. But, of course, Mr. Bingley owned a growing retail line of clothing and could afford it.

  "To think, you didn't want her to take the job at that department store! Just imagine if she had applied for that management position you found — where would she be now? Working like a slave making out time sheets and the like while Chaz dated some catalog model!"

  "Then I guess you were right, Mama," answered Em. This answer momentarily took the wind out of her mother's sales — the shock of having someone agree with her, Em imagined. "Got to go, Mama. Tell Papa I said hello." She hung up.

  Good for Jane. At least someone would be able to fund Lydia's college — if the girl ever passed her SATs, that is. Poor Mary wouldn't have to get a part-time job just to fund her academically-challenged sister's future, either.

  Em searched her phone base for Izzy's number, now that the Benton family crisis was temporarily resolved. Her producer's number was just below one other — Harriet's.

  Months after the project, little
bits and pieces of it still turned up in Emma's life. There were reruns of In the Moment, where she and Colin's debate made the 'best of' list for the program. An article in Seattle Life highlighted the battle between two of the city's — nay, nation's, it proclaimed — top self-help gurus. When everything else failed to remind her, Bill Lucas never did.

  "Still holding out for that reality show, Emma!" he said, holding the elevator one afternoon following her show. "You turning the lovelorn of Seattle into fairytale love stories — now wouldn't that be something worth tuning in for?"

  "That's a fairly unrealistic picture, I think," Em answered.

  "I'm not overestimating it — just think of the success of Heart Therapy! You took Canada by storm this week! Edmonton — and Winnipeg, too!"

  "It's an exciting time for us," Em answered with a smile, one that lasted until the elevator doors closed between them, at least.

  She couldn't help but notice that he hadn't mentioned Doctor Ferris's name in connection with the show. There were fewer and fewer mentions of him in Emma's life now, just as there were fewer mentions of Harriet and the matchmaking project than the weeks after the final debate.

  She hadn't called Harriet's number in some time, not since the first month or so after the project. Harriet was so busy now, it wasn't likely she had time to talk with her former counselor. Judging from her Facebook page, anyway, which was filled with pictures of weekend park hikes, Renaissance festivals, knitting projects, and a weekend walk-a-thon for charity.

  For a moment, instead of phoning Isabel, Em thought about phoning Harriet. Deep down, however, she knew it was only out of curiosity to learn whether Colin was in touch with her.

  She thought about him more than she should. It had been months since their project ended, yet thoughts of him kept cropping up, leaving her with the strangest feelings afterwards. She wanted to know how he was. If he was doing well, for example. After all, he had dropped out of her life completely. His career and social circle were completely separate from her sphere of life. It was only natural to wonder about him.

  The last time she saw him was on a morning show interview when flipping stations. She paused on the image of his familiar face, the suit and tie and square-frame glasses, turning up the sound instantly.

  "But isn't it too challenging to be a gentleman, if that's the right word, in this day and age?" the hostess asked.

  "It isn't easy, necessarily," answered Colin. "I don't think the difficulty of it means that it shouldn't be pursued. There will always be personal obstacles, but that doesn't make the success any less worth the achievement. Not to those who experience it, anyway."

  He seemed more natural, less uncomfortable than before, Em thought. For some reason, she missed the familiar stiffness and awkward 'tells' of their debate experience. She sat on the end of her bed and watched the last few minutes of the interview, until the show went to commercial break before its next guest, a heart surgeon.

  She flipped the channels sometimes, hoping to catch him again somewhere. No luck so far. No press releases online about a second book, and only the very barest description of his research at the university. Colin seemed like a ghost from the past, one who vanished the instant Em understood the message he'd been trying to convey to her.

  Since George hadn't accepted back his copy of Relationship Realities, Em chose to finish it. Like before, she sat propped against her pillows, the book open on her lap.

  The words had seemed different to her for the past few months. Seeing Colin in a different light changed them once again. Her smile would twist at the thought of how many transformations his work had undergone in her mind since meeting him.

  "He's such a jerk, though," said Isabel, in the elevator one morning. "How can you even stand to finish reading his crappy relationship guide?"

  "He's not that bad. Truly," Em answered. "He really means those things. I think he even tries to live by them, but it's challenging for him, given the type of person he is."

  "Yeah. A jerk. It's a real challenge for them," Isabel retorted.

  "Not a jerk. Just someone who's misunderstood." Em's smile was sad with these words.

  She turned the page in the next-to-last chapter of Colin's book. Beside her, a bookmark covered in tiny paper-punch hearts, which Em had found lying at the bottom of her dresser.

  To love a woman completely, a man will prove it to her as many times as he can during their relationship, daily, if possible. He does so not out of fear or weakness, not as a safeguard against losing her to another, but because he truly appreciates her value in his life.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  "Listeners, don't forget — this Friday is 'The Best of Heart Therapy,' featuring our most memorable callers from this summer's broadcast, so save your calls for Monday's show," said Em. "Thanks again to everyone who called in today, and a special reminder goes out to Lorraine in Munsee to please call again and share updates on her marriage. I'm Doctor Emma, wishing you all a great weekend."

  "That's a wrap," said Isabel. She pulled off her headset and rose from her chair, opening the sound booth door. "So, big plans for this weekend? Seeing anybody?" she asked, teasingly.

  "No," Em answered, trying not to smile. "I'm not. And I don't want any blind dates, either."

  "Come on. You haven't gone out with anybody since you broke up with Frank. Aren't you ready to see what kind of guys are out there?"

  "I know what kind of guys are out there," Em answered. "A lot more like Frank. I'm just not ready for that yet. Give me some time."

  "You're holding out for one of those knights in shining armor. One of those magic guys who's read Relationship Realities and braved the world of chivalry?" said Isabel. "Those guys are rare, like unicorns."

  "I won't argue with that," said Em.

  She didn't know what she was holding out for, truthfully. She just wasn't romantically interested in anyone around her. There were nice guys, ordinary guys, decent guys, and, as Isabel always put it, 'drop dead beautiful' guys — but there was just no spark worth encouraging between herself and any of them.

  Once, Isabel had accused her of holding out for Colin. "You know," she said, "you haven't been the same since him. I can't put my finger on it, but it's different. And that's when you broke up with Frank, after all..."

  "No," said Em, forcefully. "No. I didn't break up with Frank for Co—Doctor Ferris. I just came to my senses at that moment, about the reality between Frank and me. It was nothing more."

  It wasn't, of course, except for Colin's part in opening her eyes. Isabel would understand if she told her the truth, but a part of Em was afraid that her producer would somehow read more into that truth than existed. For instance, that she missed Colin now that he was gone, or felt a tiny twinge of regret that she hadn't agreed to the reality show, just so he wouldn't have disappeared into his academic world again.

  Well, maybe not desperately enough to do the reality show. But desperate enough to have kept the idea alive a few weeks. At least until she and Colin were really friends, and it wouldn't matter if there was no project to tie them together.

  No, not possible. Their relationship was the type that always needed a project to survive. She was kidding herself if she thought otherwise.

  At home in her bedroom, she changed from jeans and a blouse into her dress for tonight's party for Norma Sedderly's book signing. Norma had been a guest on her show in September — another forced promo from Bill Lucas — and they had become friends enough that Norma invited her to celebrate the signing for her second self-help book, The Two of Us Together: Couplehood Guidance for Individuals.

  Nobody was there whom Emma knew, except Norma. The author's apartment was strung in brightly-colored Chinese lanterns, the food mostly hand-prepared by a friend of hers in the catering business, the crowd a mix of therapists, proofreaders, editors, and single friends. One of whom, Norma's agent, Gary, crowded annoyingly close to Em's elbow for the first part of the evening.

  "I'm always looking for new bl
ood, if you know what I mean. Fresh meat. Different voices." He grinned at her. "Maybe we should go to dinner sometime and talk about it. You could do a fantastic book. Built-in audience. That just screams success, don't you think?"

  Em noticed the pale band of skin on his left-hand ring finger, denoting the recent absence of its metal circle. "I'm not really much of a pen and paper kind of therapist," she answered. "I'm really happy with the radio career I have."

  "But everybody's a writer, Emily," he said. Em could see Norma at the appetizer's buffet, mouthing the word 'Emma' in Gary's direction, something the agent didn't notice. "If you sat down and tried to put the words you say on paper, it would be genius. Or we could always get a ghost."

  "A ghost?" Em almost laughed, not picturing an anonymous writer, but a transparent, phantom figure at the keyboard.

  "Yes, you know. The industry term for a writer's proxy — never mind it, though, those are the kind of details that I'd be concerned with as —"

  "Gary, be a sweetheart and go help Annette pour the champagne, will you?" asked Norma. "I'm thinking about making a toast."

  "Sure thing." He set his glass on the table. "You keep thinking about my offer," he said to Em, with an exaggerated wink, before disappearing into the packed crowd in Norma's apartment.

  "Sorry." Norma breathed a sigh. "Gary's so intense sometimes. Not just since Tanya left him, either."

  "It's all right," said Em. "No agent has ever won me over yet, so I'm not afraid."

  "Let me introduce you to somebody else," said Norma. "There's somebody I think you'd like to meet. A friend of mine, he's really nice, but kind of reserved. You two might really hit it off, I think." She scanned the crowd. "Now, where is he?"

  Em followed her through the clusters of guests. "Alice, have you seen Dan?" Norma was asking someone.