NO!
Abruptly, she pulled back and frantically took a step away from him. She looked to the floor, trying to calm her heart and breathing. Shaking her head, she took another step away. She couldn’t do this. Emery was not going to allow herself to feel this. She couldn’t allow herself. Emma couldn’t feel anything.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered and then ran to find Rachel.
Emery grabbed Rachel by the hand and dragged her out of the dance club as fast as she could.
“Em, our coats!”
“Please give me the keys. Get our coats. I can’t…”
Rachel nodded and allowed Emery to run out to the car.
Emery hunched in the passenger seat. She was so stupid. What was she doing? She couldn’t let guys kiss her and open that side of her. There was no time where that would be okay again.
The driver’s side door opened and Rachel got in, throwing her coat at her. “What the fuck, Em? Are you okay?” she asked as she cranked the car and pulled into the traffic.
“I just…I needed to get out of there. That guy…” She couldn’t finish. Emery looked out the window at the passing downtown area.
“Em? Did that guy hurt you?” Rachel’s eyes were blazing with anger.
“Oh, Rachel, no.” Emery exhaled, exasperated. “It’s best if I just stay to myself, I guess. Get me out in public and I might start feeling things, and that just leads to a big problem.”
“Emery, you can’t shut yourself off completely. You can meet people and have fun. You can even kiss them if you want.” Rachel turned to face Emery at a red light. “That guy asked me what happened to you. He wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I can’t. I don’t want to kiss people or meet people, because then I may want to not lie to them, and I can’t ever do that. I’ll never be able to have anything real because I’m not real.” She sighed. “This,” she waved her hands above her body, “isn’t real.”
“Em…”
“I’m not real.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ivy Kills Everything
Months slipped by her with the pace of a sloth and Emery fought to keep her sanity by walking around the city, which included the cemeteries. For some reason the quietness of the cemeteries soothed her in a way the stillness of her apartment couldn’t. She continued to read romance novels instead of her typical gritty fiction books. Due to the fact that she was sitting in her apartment for hours, she’d run through her type of books, but there seemed to be an unlimited amount of books about women finding love. Emery thought it was her mind trying to torture herself.
By the time April rolled around again, she felt that every solitary day lasted weeks. Emery looked out the back window longingly at Ms. Carter and her dog walking around the yard without a care in the world. She sipped her coffee and looked back to the page in her journal.
Emery had written Noah another apology letter. And then another. Each day for the past five months she’d written him a letter in her journal, which she never intended to send. She could never send a letter, because Emily didn’t exist. If she didn’t exist, she couldn’t send letters.
All her letters started with a hash mark signifying another day she’d made it without Phil touching her. She was starting to lose count.
I
Noah,
I just wanted to thank you. I know you probably hate me right now and I don’t blame you for that. I also want you to know that I didn’t intend to leave you after one of the best, most intense nights of my life. I had to leave because someone was in our place. They ransacked it because of me. I couldn’t let my life interrupt yours. I am so appreciative of you. You let me into your perfect existence without question. I didn’t want my ugliness to impact your perfect life with parents and friends that love you. I didn’t want to change your perfect college experience and your perfectly acceptable future. You allowing me in your sun for a while changed me. You made me realize there are people that won’t hurt me out there.
I hope you know that I never meant to hurt you and apologize for everything, Noah. Thank you for your light and goodness.
E
Every letter was different and exposed a different piece of herself, one that she hadn’t let him see when she lived with him. Emery looked back outside and watched Ms. Carter’s dog take a dump in the backyard. She needed to get out of this place. It was a beautiful casket. Sure, it was a great place where she could stay in peace and wait, but she was going stir crazy.
Emery pulled on a scarf and coat and walked out the front door into the cold afternoon, heading toward River Street. It was maybe a dozen blocks or so, but when she reached it she didn’t know where to go, so she sat on a bench overlooking the Savannah River. For the past five months, Emery’s numbness was coming back, slowly but surely. She could still hear Noah’s whisper as he left that morning.
“I love you.”
She clung to it. She hung on to the fact that he’d thought she’d been worthy of love. When he looked at her, he didn’t see someone who was broken, destroyed, or beyond saving. Emery wasn’t exactly sure what he saw, and was pretty sure she wasn’t capable of love, but if she was, she’d lost that ability when she left Nashville.
Her diploma from the online university had come in the mail this week and now she was finally a college graduate, or at least Emma Simpson was, thanks to Derrick. He could fix anything. She didn’t ask how he did what he did for her, but was extremely grateful for everything. Emma Simpson was almost twenty-one, had just graduated, and was going into social work.
Emery was eager to help kids and had seen an ad for workers with the Chatham County Division of Family and Children Services, or DFCS. Emery sent her application in last night, but only after she’d called Derrick to see if he could help her get through the application process. Being a fake person, it’s easy to disappear but harder to live and work an honest job.
The job was for her. She didn’t know how much she’d be paid, nor did she really care, but she knew she wanted to help kids.
Because she felt so completely lost, she wanted something to ground her to reality. She hoped to make a real difference to kids, whatever that meant. It could be providing services or removing them from their home situation.
Derrick had listened and asked her a few questions about the application process, which was all online. He’d told her he “had someone who could take care of it.” He also assured her he’d send her new identification making her even older than Emma was now. When she went to her interview, she’d be twenty-two. She smiled at his tone; it was hopeful. He was hopeful for her. Hope was like ivy, it spread at a rapid speed and killed everything in its path. Emery didn’t want to allow herself to hope for anything, though. It hurt too much.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Rise from the Ashes
The call came in a week later while she sipped coffee and stared at the paper in front of her. She had an interview. An interview! She hung up and immediately called Rachel, who was in class but answered the phone anyway.
“You okay?” she answered softly.
“I GOT AN INTERVIEW!” Emery screamed into the phone.
Rachel burst out giggling. Emery heard some scrambling around and a door close. “That’s so fantastic. When is it?”
“TOMORROW!”
“Why are you still yelling?” Rachel asked, still laughing.
“I don’t know.” Emery laughed. Hope was struggling to bubble up to the surface, but Emery was denying its entry. “I’m just so…”
“Excited, Em, it’s called being excited.”
“I need to go buy a suit.”
“Well, do it. Go see if they have one you like at J. Crew or Ann Taylor. You can just buy one real quick and go back to get other stuff later. When you get the job, I’ll come down and we’ll go shop for official work clothes. It’s about your birthday anyway, so I’ll be heading that way soon. Derrick told me you’re going to be twenty-two on this birthday.”
“Y
eah, he’s saving my ass again.” She audibly yawned into the phone.
“Sorry if I’m boring you, but you called me, remember?”
“No, I just need something to do and I was actually excited for a minute. I’m going insane just staying home. I’m going to get a suit now,” Emery said, her voice giddy.
“Derrick’s awesome, I’ve been telling you,” Rachel said. “I wonder if you’re going to have to wear a suit every day.”
“Don’t you think we’re getting ahead of ourselves?” Emery smiled at Rachel’s enthusiasm. “Are you in class?”
“Oh, I stepped out.”
“I’ll let you go. Call me later. I’m—what did you say it was again?” Emery laughed. “Excited?”
“Yep,” Rachel responded. “And I’m fucking excited for you. Break a leg.”
Emery smiled as she disconnected the call, grabbing a pen to write today’s letter to Noah.
I
Noah,
I have hope today. I’m excited today. I think I owe that to you and Rachel. Before I met you, I didn’t experience much hope. I know you may think I threw you away and never looked back, but it’s simply not true. I look back every single morning. I look back and remember the way you touched me. I look back and remember the vibration of your voice on my neck. I look back at how you took such care of me. You are perfect. I hope you find someone as perfect as you. It certainly isn’t me.
But I have hope today and I want you to know if I wouldn’t have met you, I’m pretty sure I would’ve given up ever having dreams for myself.
I miss you.
E
Emery put down her pen as a tear fell from her right eye and landed on the page, soaking in and smearing the ink. She’d never been on an interview so she was really nervous, but the thought of doing something that could help even one kid drove her and made her shut everything else out.
Emery sat in a dingy waiting room in her new light gray skirt suit from Banana Republic. The clerk helped her pair the suit with snakeskin heels and a light yellow top. Her blonde waves currently skimmed her shoulder blades. The weather had become warmer over the last two weeks and was here to stay. She was nervous but ready.
Her right foot tapped nervously as she waited. Emery had signed in with the exasperated woman at the front desk. Her new ID was perfect. She’d looked around while the woman made a copy of it. The place was pathetic looking. Emery had never in her life been in a place that was so bleak, which made weird things happen to her stomach. She willed her bladder to be strong; she didn’t want to have to use the bathroom.
A man in his early fifties wearing khaki trousers and a wrinkled blue oxford shirt opened the door to the waiting room. “Emma Simpson,” he called.
She sat in the chair for a beat before remembering that it was her—she was Emma Simpson. Emery smiled and picked up her bag, following him to the back of a huge room filled with makeshift desks. Some were occupied, but most were empty. He hadn’t bothered introducing himself to her.
They entered what looked like a slovenly conference room toward the back of the office.
“Miss, uh…” the man pushed his wire-rimmed classes up his nose and looked back at his pad, “Simpson. Have a seat. I’m Steve.” Steve sat in the only other chair at the table, which happened to be directly across from her. He didn’t even shake her hand.
Aren’t you supposed to shake hands?
Emery pulled the chair out and sat. She placed her bag on the table and looked expectantly at Steve. His eyes were on a folder in front of him.
“Okay, so it looks like you’re qualified based on your application, and everything went through the computer.” He flipped a page on the pad in front of him and clicked the pen in his hand. When he finally looked up at her, his face read shock, as if he was finally really looking at her. Then he smiled nervously. “Okay, I’m just going to ask a few questions. It shouldn’t take long.”
“Okay.” Emery nodded. Even though it was freezing in the conference room, she could feel the dampness under her arms.
Later that night, Emery was putting dishes up when her phone rang. “Hey,” she answered. Rachel was the only person to call her.
“Hey, I’ve got you on speaker. Derrick and I are headed to dinner and we wanted to see how it went.”
“It was weird. The—” Emery started.
“What do you mean?” Rachel interrupted.
“Well, he asked me a couple of questions off a list he had and then he basically told me this job may not be for me and that I should really think about it. He said I should be prepared to lose kids.”
“What the fuck?” Derrick muttered.
“It doesn’t matter, I want it. If I can help one kid…” Emery trailed off. “I just want to help one.”
“Emery, this is amazing and I think it’s perfect for you.”
“Call her Emma,” Derrick warned.
“Whatever,” Rachel blew him off. “Derrick is taking me to a nice restaurant for a date, can you believe it? He’s taking me out in public!”
“I made her change,” Derrick said, his voice filled with laughter.
“What were you wearing?”
“Well, I had on a crop top with some leggings. He told me those weren’t clothes, even though they are and he likes them.”
“I like to see you in that, I just don’t want other people to see you in that,” Derrick confirmed.
“Well what are you wearing now?”
“A dress.”
“A long shirt,” Derrick and Emery said at the same time.
Emery laughed. “You can’t take her anywhere.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Layers and Scars and Graveyards
Rachel and Emery were sitting at The Distillery in historic Savannah, chatting about Emery’s interview and sharing a po’boy.
“Try mine.” Emery pushed her pint of Purple Haze over to Rachel.
“You know I don’t like beer, why would I want to drink that?” Rachel asked before she popped a fry in her mouth.
“Because it’s good to try new things, right?”
“Not necessarily,” Rachel refuted, shaking her head.
“Your loss.” Emery took a gulp of her beer and sat back in the chair. The restaurant had a fun, relaxed atmosphere. She and Rachel had been shopping and walking around that morning; day drinking was the perfect way to make the day better.
“So you said the interview was easy. Like, the guy just told you about the job and how hard it was, but you still haven’t heard anything?”
“Yeah, it was really weird. It was like he wanted to warn me about the job or something, not really see if I would be a good fit for it.”
Rachel twisted her long raven hair into a bun and put a pen through it. “This wine is disgusting.”
“Well, it’s a place for craft beer. You should order a beer.”
Rachel checked her phone, took a selfie, and posted it, ignoring Emery’s beer comment.
“So your dad knows you’re in Savannah?” Emery asked.
“No, why?”
“He does now. You just posted a selfie, dumbass.”
“This could totally be in Nashville,” Rachel commented.
Emery set her pint glass, which had been mid-way to her lips, down. “You’re supposed to be in Nashville?”
Rachel nodded.
“How is he?” Emery’s heart started beating rapidly just thinking about him.
“He’s okay, Em, I promise,” she answered softly, but with the tone not to push.
Emery cocked her head to the side, examining Rachel. Then Emery decided to trust her and not prod into something she couldn’t do anything about.
“So what’d you say when he told you how horrible the job would be?”
Emery smiled, remembering her response. “I told him I didn’t care how horrible things were because I wanted to help kids and this job would allow me to do that. He’d told me I had the job immediately.”
“So when do you start
?”
“Well, I don’t think he could really offer me the job right away. He told me he’d get me all the paperwork in a week or so and I would start in another week, but I haven’t heard anything.”
The server came up to the table.
“Do you have any locally brewed beer here?” Emery asked.
“Yes, we actually have Scattered Sun Belgium Wit by a brewery that opened recently right down the road. It’s really good too.”
“I’ll take that and we want to share the deep fried moon pie,” Emery ordered.
“Damn it, I’m going to have to run like 70 miles this week to get over this trip,” Rachel moaned.
“It’s my birthday. Calories don’t count, right?” Emery glanced toward the street; she was really falling for this city—its parks, the cemeteries, the people. She hoped she didn’t have to leave. “How are things going at school? How are you and Derrick?”
“Oh, Em, Derrick rocks my world. I can’t even tell you how…” She sighed. “How perfect he is for me.”
“Perfect, huh?” Emery’s mind went directly to Noah.
“I mean, he evens me out. He’s never flustered or uptight. If I get all anxious, all he has to do is touch me and I’m done with whatever it is that’s worrying me. He has a totally different perspective on life and he’s making me different.”
“So you haven’t streaked through campus yet?”
Rachel laughed. “He’d kill me if I did that. That’s the only thing, he’s super possessive.”
Emery finished her beer and stared into the foam that ran down the sides of the glass. Do not wish for that. You can never have someone that is possessive of you.
“I sort of like it, though, you know? Like he’s all caveman, she’s mine and shit. When we walk into a room, he never takes his hand off me if he can help it.”
Razorblade Kisses Page 16
