A Kiss for Emily (Emily Stokes Series)

by J. P. Galuska

  “Your house.” His excitement came over the line. “I’ll be there in an hour.” Then he hung up.

  “Why do women like men?” I complained out loud to myself. “They’re all morons.”

  I hurried up my relaxing morning.

  The doorbell rang. Before I could pull the door open, Alex let himself in, thrusting a bouquet of mixed flowers in my face. “Since I am killing you today, I thought this would be a nice gesture.”

  This is why women like men, they…are…morons!

  “Thanks, I guess.” I took the flowers from him and he followed me into the living room. “I’ll put them in water.”

  Although I liked the flowers, I liked the way he looked even better. He was dressed in a pair of tan shorts and a wrinkled, untucked, dark blue button-down shirt. He had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The unkept-style looked good on him, like a model posing in some fashion magazine. I wondered if he ever noticed what I was wearing.

  He flopped on the couch to wait: feet on the coffee table and legs crossed at the ankles. Sometimes he acted more like a brother than the cute guy I’d like to make out with.

  “Where is everyone?” he called out nonchalantly.

  “Gone,” I called back. Realizing we were alone, I froze in my tracks. I was alone with Alex Hibbs! I was definitely back into the “love” mode. Hormones raced through my body and I felt my checks flush and goosebumps rise on my arms. We’d been alone in my house a hundred times before…. But this was different.

  This was the time my mother warned me about. Fear crept in my consciousness, but of what? Myself?

  “Em?” His voice only heightened my arousal.

  “Ahh, just a minute.” I became paranoid like he could see my x-rated thoughts.

  “Hurry it up, we don’t have all day.”

  Disappointment set in abruptly ending the fantasy. “Why?”

  “Emily, it’s just an expression.”

  “Oh, okay.” Smile back on.

  Rather than taking the time to arrange the flowers one by one, I simply crammed the clipped ends into the first vase I found. Returning to the living room with the vase in hand, I set it on the coffee table, and plopped myself next to Alex.

  He’s so…yummy.

  The urge to spring a big kiss on him was intense. What if I was a bad kisser? Like Zachary Melcomb. While I contemplated the idea, Alex opened the folder he brought and glanced over the storyboard.

  “Okay, Blondie,” his voice became deep and sinister, “are you prepared to meet your doom?” He turned his head from the papers and gave a devilish smile. Then he leaned closer and widened his grin.

  Hot flash. Melting body. Must use self-control.

  In a burst of energy unrelated to the lust I was experiencing, he slammed the folder shut.

  Yikes!

  Hopping to his feet, he offered out his hand. “Come on then, daylight is burning. I’ve got the camcorder in the car.”

  What’s the rush? You haven’t even kissed me yet!

  He wiggled his hand impatiently.

  Rats! I wanted lips and he offered me a hand.

  “Do you want anything to drink before we go? Lemonade?” I asked.

  “Stop stalling. This is going to be too much fun.”

  With the nagging sensation like I had unfinished business to take care of, I begrudgingly took his hand and we headed toward the front door.

  “Wait!” I yelled, bringing Alex to a stop with an exaggerated jerk. I looked down at myself, running a hand across my clothing. In a tone too serious, I asked, “Do I look alright to die?”

  Rolling his eyes, he swung his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his body. “Emily, it’s going to be a downright shame to have to kill such a beautiful young lady.”

  Did he just say beautiful?

  I never imagined dying would be so much fun. We drove to several locations while making our fake documentary. We forgot about a script so we made up lines as we went. He met her in the park. He killed her in the woods. We used ketchup bottles for squirting blood. He hung himself in a tree. His body twitched while he hung there. It was great!

  It was about suppertime when Alex pulled his Jeep in front of my house. He put the gearshift in park but left the engine running. An awkward silence filled the air. I was not getting the romantic good-bye kiss I was expecting.

  “Um, that was a lot of fun,” Alex finally said.

  “Yeah, it was.” The words came out hampered, laced with embarrassment by my foolish wish and confusion by this afternoon’s closeness. “Thanks for driving.” Why did I say that?

  “Any time.” His words were polite, but aloof.

  I tugged on the door handle. The latch clicked.

  “Em—” his voice broke off.

  He should be asking me out, or to prom, but something felt very wrong.

  “What, Alex?” I turned and looked at him, trying to play it cool. He had his hair brushed away from his eyes and I noticed how intense they were. There was pain. He hesitated more. “Have a good night. I’ll see you in class on Monday.”

  Monday? It’s only Saturday. “Thanks, you too.” Crap! He didn’t ask, but there is still hope! The fairytale isn’t dead yet! “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

  “I gotta go, Emily.”

  That was it. A sledgehammer delivered squarely to my chest. Tight lipped, I gave him the only smile I had in me before sliding out of the leather seat. The distance from the Jeep to our house looked like a mile as I desperately began hoping, dreaming, and bargaining with God, if only Alex would ask…

  But before I took my third step up the front walk, the black Jeep sped off and the hum of the oversized tires became silent. He didn’t even wait for me to get to the door! My head dropped—and I watched my own tears splatter against the pavement, painfully aware that he would not be asking me to prom. My dreams of a beautiful fairytale were shattered.

  By the time I entered the house, I was sobbing. Dad arrived first, to hold my shaking body.

  Mom came running from the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” she gasped, visually inspecting me for signs of physical abuse. Kathryn stood cautiously behind mother.

  Sobs continued so heavy I could not speak.

  “Are you hurt?” Dad asked as he stepped back to check for himself.

  All I could do was shake my head no.

  “Is she going to be okay?” Kat asked. She eyed me with the same curiosity as watching the aftermath of an auto accident.

  Dad took his hands and placed them on my checks. He looked me squarely in the eyes, searching.

  “Yes, Kat, Emily will be okay,” Mom reassured her. With a little prodding, Mom led Kat off in the direction of the kitchen, arm in arm.

  Dad and I were left in privacy. With the utmost care, my hero released my face and returned his strong, loving, arms around me until my tears subsided.

  Chapter Six

  CHAINS

  ALEX’S MUSCLES ACHED from the relentless tension that plagued him. Dramatic memories lingered, ready to overtake and infest his normal functioning should he ever drop his guard. The sight was gruesome. Feelings of abandonment stung deep.

  Then there was her. He loved her; there was never any doubt about that. Alex tried to erase the pain he saw in Emily’s eyes today. He should have asked. He knew that’s what she wanted. Hate raged upon himself. But then he hated himself long before he hurt her.

  For a fleeting moment, as he pulled into his driveway, Alex considered stomping on the gas and crashing into the garage. They’d have no other choice but to tear it down.

  Maybe then he could be free.

  Chapter Seven

  SEVERENCE

  “GOOD MORNING, EMILY,” Mom sat down on the edge of my bed. “It’s time for church.”

  “I don’t want to go.” I didn’t even bother to open my eyes.

  “It will make you feel better.”

  “So would fifty pounds of chocolate.”

  “True, but then what?” sh
e asked.

  I waited for her to leave.

  “Your performance last night was the best one of all. Too bad there weren’t more people in the audience.”

  “It’s always larger opening night. I just want to take a really long shower, is that all right?”

  Silence.

  “Maybe you could go to prom with a group of girls.” It was not a question.

  I stared at her in disbelief. “It’s just a stupid dance, anyway. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Stop the drama. Let’s put the whole thing into perspective. Alex has been ignoring you for a week now. It’s obvious he has his own issues to deal with and actually, I’m glad you’re not being dragged through the middle of it. ”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “In two short weeks, we’ll be moving, and you’ll have brand new opportunities. In fact, let’s celebrate and start packing tonight.” She remained perched on the edge of my bed, looking at me like she hoped I would say something that would make her feel better. Finally, she got up and left.

  Mom’s words twisted my stomach. Ignoring the feeling that my entire body might somehow spontaneously collapse in dehydrated rubble, I threw my covers aside and slipped into my fuzzy slippers. Next, I turned off my cell phone so I wouldn’t have to ignore the texts I was or was not receiving. It had been an entire week since I’d seen Alex. The coward even skipped English every day this week.

  After my shower, which accomplished very little, I picked up my guitar and started to play. My music described my feelings in a way that Freud could not. Not that it mattered; it’s all a bunch of crap anyway.

  Later in the evening, Mother gathered us in the living room for a brief meeting. “Professional movers will be hired for the furniture and other large items. You get to pack up your own personal items.”

  “If we had a pet, like a hamster, would we pack that in a box too?” Kat asked.

  She was such a dork.

  “No, you would not,” Dad replied dryly.

  “Can we get a pet when we get out to the country? There’d be enough room for a dog to run out there.”

  Dad didn’t like pets. He always said no.

  Kat began to whine.

  “I’ll let you and your father discuss that at another time,” Mom said, glaring at Dad who was making a face.

  “Before you begin packing what you want to take to the new house,” Mom continued, “go through your items that you no longer want and we’ll send them over to Goodwill.”

  “Boxes are located in the garage for your convenience,” Dad added with airline steward gestures.

  Discarding unwanted items were directions Mom didn’t have to repeat twice. As I headed out to retrieve a box from the stash, a twinge of sorrow zipped though my heart. Still, the directions remained uncomplicated. Even before entering my room, I knew exactly what I was going to put in the box. I placed the container in the middle of the floor and opened the four flaps.

  I took a moment and savored each second as I carefully noted the four walls surrounding me. They were painted the faintest lavender and had bold, deep purple curtains to match. Framed photos of my childhood memories surrounded me, cluttering every wall. My favorites were the pictures of various characters I portrayed in numerous theatrical productions throughout the years. Next came the vast array of athletic attempts and me dressed in the according attire: me wearing a plain, pink leotard and black ballet slippers, a frilly dress with tap shoes, a Tae Kwon Do uniform, me with cleats and a soccer ball, kneepads and a volleyball, me on a balance beam, and lastly, me on horseback. The photos seemed to fill the void created by a lack of trophies or metals.

  A heavy sigh escaped from my lungs as I reminisced all the times I used to lie in bed at night imagining what it would be like to say goodbye to my room. Sometimes I’d be going off to college, or other times leaving to start the rest of my life with a loving husband.

  It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

  I walked over to my closet, opened the doors and pressed its contents to the far left. My heart began to beat faster as I saw the amazing white satin dress with the delicate floral beading. Reaching inside, I slowly retrieved the evening dress from its hiding spot and held it at a distance to admire its beauty. I loved this dress. I clutched it in both my hands and buried my face in the soft, silky fabric. I inhaled deeply, expecting to smell romance itself.

  Abruptly, the nostalgia was severed. I turned around and dropped the dress into the Goodwill box.

  I was finished.

  ***

  An unusual thing happened the day I discarded the dress: my feelings seemed to go along with it. I stopped feeling angry. I no longer felt depressed. I especially didn’t feel joy. I didn’t feel anything at all, except that I agreed with Bailey; I had been wasting my time with Alex.

  The last two weeks of school went off without a hitch. Prom came and went. I spent that evening with my family watching a rented movie about ninja guinea pigs. It wasn’t long after the dance that I calmly told my friends I was moving and just like I thought, they promised to stay in contact. We’ll see.

  On the evening of our move, our overnight bags were already in the vehicles previously gassed up and ready for the westbound lane on Highway 24. After checking the house a third time for forgotten items, I placed Bunny in the passenger seat of my car.

  While reaching for my car keys nestled safely in my pocket, I heard the low hum of oversized tires approaching fast. The familiar black Jeep came to an abrupt halt at the curb in front of our soon to be ex-house.

  The first thing I noticed was the damage to his perfect, treasured vehicle. The left headlight was smashed out and several pieces were missing from the grill. The hood and front fenders were dented and several scrapes marred the onyx-black paint. Mom, Dad and Kat disappeared as Alex jumped down from behind the wheel.

  “I was worried I’d miss you!” Alex blurted as he ran up to me, trembling and out of breath. His hair was tucked in beneath a backwards ball cap, allowing me to see his eyes that moved about wildly.

  I’m sure my facial expression was not very welcoming as I struggled to make sense out of what was taking place. I found it to be very strange.

  “I was an idiot!” He admitted, searching my eyes for perhaps some kind of understanding or forgiveness. His hands settled upon my shoulders. “I was scared, and confused….but I’m here, now.” He was out of words and seemed to be terrified by the silence. “Please, Em!”

  I bit at my lower lip nervously, but my overall expression remained poised.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicate silver chain. A small silver heart, about the size of a quarter, dangled at the bottom. “This is for you.” He took my hand. “Promise me you’ll think about it,” Alex pleaded as he lowered the necklace into my palm.

  “I want you to call me—I want you to be the one to tell me it’s not too late.” Perhaps he thought he was starting to ramble. He changed his pitch. “I should have asked you to prom the day I had you in my Jeep, Emily. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

  Once again, I found myself lacking feeling and words. He leaned over and kissed my check, tenderly. His gesture awakened my senses. But it wasn’t enough. “I won’t say good-bye, and I’m foolish enough to wait by the phone. Don’t make me wait too long.” He smiled timidly before walking back to his Jeep.

  The scene could have ended in a million different ways. He could have come running back to me. I could have gone running to him with my arms outstretched. I could have called out his name, teasing him with hope, only to crush him with, “good-bye.” But it wasn’t theatrical at all. He just got into his big black Jeep and left.

  “Are you okay?” Mom asked as she walked up behind me.

  “No.”

  “I can’t believe he had the nerve to come here and show his face,” Dad growled as he returned to the yard.

  “John!” Mom cautioned. “Diplomacy. Tact.”

  “You want me to take
him out? We can use one of the guns from the shop.” An evil grin curled up the corners of his lips.

  “Dad!” I gasped and whacked him in the arm.

  “Ow,” he feigned.

  Kats eyes nearly bugged out. “Would you really do that?”

  “Are you trying to make the situation better, or do you really think you’re funny?” Mom asked.

  “Both,” Dad chuckled. His eyes twinkled as he looked my way.

  “Would he really ‘take him out?’” Kat looked up at Mom.

  Three “NO!s” surrounded her in stereo.

  “Excuse a girl for asking.” Kat stuck out her tongue.

  A moment of peaceful silence overtook the scene before we automatically lined up in a single row and walked arm in arm toward the caravan of cars ready for departure. Alex provided the distraction I desperately needed for the drive. Although I was not ready to leave, I was ready to go.

  “Kitty, do you want to ride with me? We’ll make it an adventure.

  Chapter Eight

  A NEW BEGINNING

  THE ONLY ADVENTURE KITTY and I had getting to the new house was a flat tire.

  When we finally drove down the dusty gravel driveway, I thought my father had gone completely insane as I gazed upon a brown cedar house that looked as small up close as it did from a distance.

  “We left the city to move into a one-room house?” Any optimism I had dissipated into thin air while the familiar queasiness returned to my stomach.

  Kitty scrambled to the front seat for a better view. “It’ll be great! Just like the olden days!”

  Leave it to Kitty, she always saw the good.

  I glared at Dad as I pulled in beside the house. “Where’s the outhouse?”

  Dad bent down to face me through the window. “Don’t get your undies in a bunch, Em. I promised you room to grow.”

  After opening the front door, the house proved to be nothing less than spectacular. It was then I realized the rest of the structure was strategically hidden behind a wall of trees and other greenery.