Luke groans knowing his bank account will take a hit, Emma beams, and Nana is wiping those pesky tears she will deny shedding. As Nana yawns, Em immediately wants to get her home to rest. “Child, I’m old. It happens. We tire, but that doesn’t mean the day stops. I still have some canning and freezing to do, you have a date with that young fellow for a few hours, and your mom and I have planning to do.” She shoves Ems towards me.
“What am I doing?” Luke asks, feeling left out.
“Staying out of our way.” Nana responds as she pulls Phoebe from the studio. “Oh and pick up the list I left on Phoebe’s desk.”
“Errand boy. I’ve been demoted to her bitch.” His mumbling is threatening Emma’s laughter, but she has enough sense to keep it in until he disappears.
“Thank you for today.” She reaches for me, and I pick her up so we are face to face.
“Any time.”
“I’m disappointed about one thing.”
“What?”
“I didn’t see your moves, QB.”
“I’m waiting for prom. I can’t give you too much of a good thing.”
“I’m holding you to that promise.”
“As long as you’re in my arms, you can hold me to anything.”
“Love you.”
“Love you.” I capture her mouth before stealing a few hours of time to ourselves, cushioned from outside influences, drama, and meddling.
This is when we work the best.
Alone. Yet together.
Two becoming one.
A puzzle that forms a complete picture.
Us.
The news of Nana and my all-encompassing devotion to Emma has put off my parents questioning my signing, but I know as I walk in, my time of avoidance has come to an end. Both of them are sitting in the den, watching me as I warily approach. “Sit down, son.” Brett nods to the seat facing their united front.
“So Georgia Southern,” James states. He knows the answer, so it wasn’t posed as a question but more of a disbelieving statement. I nod, allowing him to continue because I know he isn’t done. “You didn’t think a heads-up was warranted? Last we talked, your dream was University of Georgia, now we find out from the news that you signed with another college.”
“I’m eighteen.” I don’t know why that is the answer I give, but it’s my crutch. My go-to explanation. I’m an adult, no longer their burden.
“We’re well aware how old you are. We’ve celebrated every birthday since you were three. I think we deserve a bit more than that.”
“I don’t know what you want.”
“The truth,” Brett sighs as James’s tone warns us he’s close to losing his temper. Not that he’d ever fully lose his shit on me, that much I trust.
“They offered me a full ride.” I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, knowing I’m evading the real truth.
“You committed to four years at a school that wasn’t your first choice because of a scholarship? Unbelievable.” Brett fumes. “You don’t need the scholarship, William. We have planned and saved for this day. It’s taken care of. We can afford to give you an education.”
I know this. It’s the same argument I’ve had with Emma. “You shouldn’t have to. That’s your money.” That’s part of the burden I carry. I’m not theirs, no matter the love I have for them, the utmost respect for allowing me to share their home, provide for me, love me . . . after all this time I can’t forget I was discarded, undesired. The adoption wasn’t anything we ever discussed even though it is obvious and never hidden, but I want to know why me? What stood out in me that made them want me?
“We’re your parents, damn it. Everything we do is for you. Why can’t you understand this? Why not University?”
My eyes narrow, my fists ball, and my heart is pounding. Why can’t they leave it alone? “Because after the championship game I got in a fight. The coach from Georgia witnessed it and told me there wasn’t a place on his team for me.” Just as there wasn’t a place for me in my mom’s life and just like there isn’t a place in this life for me anymore. Everyone’s safety depends on me playing my cards right.
“What happened?” Brett’s logical tone is making an appearance. “You aren’t one to lose your temper.”
“It doesn’t matter what happened. I fucked up, and this is my penance.”
“Language,” James chastises. “Mistakes happen but why didn’t you tell us? We could have helped.”
“No. You couldn’t.” I was defending them, something I don’t regret, but I wish I had made different choices that lead to that moment. Different school, honesty as the taunts and comments started. I had one thing in mind all those years, giving my parents back what they gave me . . . security and integrity. They didn’t have to adopt me, they didn’t have to give me a life that was as ideal as an old sitcom, they didn’t have to support me. They chose to and that’s why I chose all those years to turn a blind eye to the bigots harassing their choices and me. I never wanted them to feel the shame of not being accepted like I’ve endured all these years. Even though they’ve showed me unconditional love and support, I’ve had my friends and most of the town look at me in disdain and disgust, reminding me I don’t belong because I’m an outsider, a foreigner and the child of gay parents. Small mindedness like that makes me happy to escape, except most of my hell is following me to school.
“We’re proud of you, and if football is that important to you, we will stand behind you. I was just hoping you were going to be an hour away, not five.”
“Four,” I correct James with a smirk.
“Yeah, lead foot. I guess you’ll have money for speeding tickets.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your college fund is yours, William. However you want to spend it, but since you have a full ride you don’t have to worry. Save it, let Brett and Luke help you invest it. We will give you an allowance while you’re there. We just want you to focus on school and ball.”
I nod and stand, stepping into their open arms, feeling dirty as I hug them, knowing I don’t deserve their support after every cruel word I didn’t defend, after every malicious reference I let go undefended. I’m ashamed and elated at the same time. They chose me and continue to make that choice, one I don’t understand and time and time again I feel I let them down.
“So proud of you.” Both of them murmur their sentiments, and I feel I’ll never make them proud, if they knew the real reason I chose this college. They’d be disgusted by the path I put myself on, and that’s a chance I can’t risk. They can’t uncover the truth.
Chapter Thirteen
Emma
Prom is here, and I want every cliché moment, so I dragged Holly three towns over to buy condoms. She’s the only one I shared my plan with. I got no judgment from her. She knows we are in it for the long haul. Coaxing my parents, my dad especially, into letting me spend the night out took more finesse than I could muster. Nana came in and read him the riot act, reminding him it was William, and we’d spent many nights together. Granted, that had been before we were a couple, but she didn’t let that argument hold any weight with her son. She was living this moment with me, and reminded him of that fact. She wasn’t using her illness as a guilt weapon, just stating the facts. Each and every day with no episodes was a gift.
That’s how the past months have been. Some good days, not an episode or faltering in her memory, and out of nowhere the blank stares would begin. She’d disappear in her own little world, including us in her stroll down memory lane, but we had no clue what moment she was living in. She recognized us, but not at face value. I wasn’t Emma her granddaughter, I was a dear friend she would reminisce with about a past I didn’t understand. I would smile through it, pretend I was present, and just as quickly as it came, it went. Other times the episode would drag for hours, sometimes all day. Just this morning she was watching the real estate channel and telling us she had a test she needed to take once she was done watching, reiterating to me that she had been here for h
ours studying. She would go off in a bubble none of us could penetrate, then switch tangents so quickly I’d get whiplash. After her test, she needed to get home and cook Papa dinner, and none of us could bear to tell her he wasn’t there waiting. Her eyes weren’t as bright during her bad days. They were empty and dull, and it killed me. I’m considering foregoing prom. As she falls asleep on the couch, I soak in the tub trying not to dwell on the unfairness of it all, but it’s hard.
Good people should be exempt from bad shit. There are many useless people in the world who harm, hurt, and humiliate people all for their benefit. All the bad diseases and luck should be saved for them. My Nana would admonish me, telling me I wasn’t their judge. She would remind me to have compassion, but my give-a-fuck meter is broken, and each day that passes I watch her drift into a shell of her former self.
Dress shopping was great. My mom was excited, and Nana was herself. Her wit, bearings . . . everything was in sync that day. I chose a purple dress without telling anyone the reason. It’s the color of the Alzheimer’s Awareness ribbon, and no matter what I wanted a piece of my Nana with me. The lingerie set I bought was light lavender with violet bows designed to tie at the hips. I vowed tonight would be a memory I never wanted to lose, so I honored each choice as it was my only one. Now I’m thinking of cancelling so I can wallow at home watching my rock sink in front of me.
The pounding on the door makes me swallow a gallon of bath water as I gasp in shock. “Emma dear, it’s getting late, and we need to get your make-up and hair fixed. That handsome man will be here to escort you, and you can’t be looking like a drowned rat.” I smile through tears as my Nana’s voice comes through loud and clear. I send a silent thank you to the heavens and climb from the tub.
“Coming, Nana.” I hear her sigh in exasperation that I have cut it this close. I dry off and slip my robe around me and trudge to my room where my mom and Nana are pulling all sorts of cosmetics and hair gizmos from the case my mom has for dance recital emergencies. I bite my tongue and let them play dress up, mainly because I don’t know if I’ll ever experience this again with Nana, and I want to allow my mom her moment. She wanted to do this for years with dance recitals, but that dream died the second I tripped in ballet flats. I’ll let her tease, clip, brush, and whatever else she wants to do to my hair.
“Where is the clutch we bought?” my mom asks, searching my room to place my lip-gloss in it.
“Just put it on the bed, I’ll get it,” I stutter, knowing I stashed the condoms in there.
“Sit still unless you want to look like a clown with frizzy hair on your big night.”
“Emma just tell me where it is, and I’ll get it ready while Nana finishes up.”
My head stings from the slap it just got. “Child tell her where your damn purse is and sit still.” I sit mute and hoping the moment passes. It doesn’t. My detective mother spots it hidden in my dresser. My cheeks flush, and I can’t look at her in the mirror when I hear her intake of breath as she opens it. Shit, I’m never going to be allowed out of the house.
“Emma Nichols.” Her tone is crisp, and my eyes automatically snap up.
“What is it, Phoebe? You’re gonna cause her to impale her head on a bobby pin if she jerks like that again.”
I subtly shake my head, not wanting my mom to discuss this with Nana. “I know you aren’t freaking out about the condoms she bought.” My mouth drops, my throat dries, and I want to dive under my bed in mortification.
“Mom,” she starts. “How did you know?”
“I saw them in the bag when she brought them in. I don’t know why pharmacies use clear bags. Kind of hard to hide stuff when it’s on display for everyone to see.”
“Kill me now…” I whisper.
“Emma, are you sure?”
I shrug at my mom. I am, but I don’t know how William feels. “I love him.”
“I know you do. And I know he loves you, but you’re only sixteen.”
“Almost seventeen.”
“I just don’t want you to regret anything.”
My Nana shoots her a look. “What your mom means to say is we trust you and are glad you took responsibility in your choice. It very well could have been a pregnancy test she carried in Phoebe.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from laughing. Not because the situation is funny, it’s humiliating, but the look on my mom’s face as she was just put in her place is priceless.
“You’re right, Mom. And this doesn’t need to be discussed in front of your son.” They both nod. “Emma, I trust you. I don’t like this, but I respect your choice. I just wish you would have come to me.”
“I’m sure, and there’s nothing to discuss. I just want to be prepared. Please don’t say anything to Will. I haven’t talked to him yet.” Her grin appears quickly then disappears as she meets my eyes.
A million things pass in that look. She is releasing me to grow up, but there is a sadness in the moment, an understanding of my love for the boy across the street, admiration for the woman I’m trying to become, and resolve to hide all this from my dad. “Love you,” she whispers.
“All this girl shit is making me want a glass of wine.” I know the episode is coming, my Nana isn’t one to swear, and when she loses her tongue, I know the rest is fast on its heels.
I hurry from the room and grab a wine glass and pour the sparkling juice. So far we’ve been able to fool her. Alcohol isn’t off-limits, but with her regimen of medications, we want to be careful, so we lie. Every night with dinner, sometimes she gets in the mood to day drink, and we lie then, as well. It feels so wrong, but it’s a necessary evil in dealing with this disease. I hope one day she forgives us all. I hurry back to my room, “Here, Nana.” I hand her the glass hoping this stalls the episode until I leave and she falls asleep. My mom holds up my dress, and I step into it, smoothing the front over my stomach, and exhaling as she zips me up.
Deep purple floats down to my ankles in a fitted bandeau-type style, accentuating my curves. The strapless neckline is straight with no cleavage in sight. I conceded on this neckline because I wanted to spare my dad a cardiac arrest. “Emma, you are beautiful,” my Nana states as she is sipping her juice. Her eyes fill with unshed tears, and she stares at me. “It’s like I’m seeing your mom all over again so many years ago.” The doorbell rings, and my attention is pulled from the two women I love to the man I will love forever. I hear my dad’s voice followed by Brett and James and then the melody that is music to me. Will’s deep baritone immediately fills me with calmness, excitement, and love. Tonight I hope to give him the last piece of me. He holds every other piece so it seems fitting he gets this one.
His gaze fixes on me; steady with each step I take towards him. He raises one eyebrow and quirks his head, studying me from head to toe. I don’t reach him before he steps into my personal space, and his knuckles caress my cheek. “Ems.” He inhales my scent. “God, you’re beautiful.” My heart beats erratically, and I’m forced to swallow my emotions so I can speak.
“Thank you.” I kiss his cheek and wipe the remnants of my gloss off, so it doesn’t stain his face. William overwhelms me in a tux. His shoulders are broad, filling out more as his workouts increase, preparing for college ball. His wide stance, unwavering stare, dimpled cheeks, and strong jaw rob the air from me as I drink him in. The butterflies take flight in my stomach, nervousness settling in. Not over the act I want to offer him, but the fear he doesn’t want the same thing. I feel his shuddering breath as he reluctantly steps back, and we begin the photo portion of our evening. My cheeks burn in protest as I smile one last time. I end the shenanigans. “Enough,” I laugh. “If none of those come out, y’all are out of luck.” Pressing a kiss to each cheek I pass, I drag my date towards the door and our escape.
My dad wraps me in his arms as he squeezes me tightly. “Love you, baby girl.”
“I love you, Daddy.” He shoots me a wink. We’re home free, and Nana ruins it.
“Make good choices, Em
ma girl.” She shoots me a saucy wink, and if I hadn’t fixed her juice myself, I’d think she got the real Jesus juice. I blush and duck my head, hoping to avoid eye contact with anyone. Once we get in his truck, I release a deep breath, more suitable for evading a firing squad . . . not our parents.
“You okay, Ems?”
“Yes.” I reassure him and myself at the same time.
He studies me for a minute and drops it. “Hungry?” I’m not, but I lie and tell him I am. I fidget through most of dinner, just wanting to get to prom, get the mandatory ritual part over and spend the rest of the night in his arms. The one place everything and everyone disappears. In his embrace, there is only room for us. After the third time I pick up my napkin, twist it a few times, and drop it, he grabs my hands. “Talk to me.” His eyes are sincere, his tone pleading.
“I bought condoms,” I blurt. Way to finesse this conversation, Emma. He chokes on his Coke, and I want to crawl under the table in awkwardness.
“You can’t just blurt that out. We haven’t discussed sex.”
“I know, but is there a need for a conversation? I want to have sex, and I want it to be with you.” I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows a few times.
“You know I’ve never had sex?” I wasn’t sure until his admission.
“No.” I look down at my lap.
“Eyes, Emma.” His voice commands me, and I obey it. “I wanted my first to be you. I didn’t want it tainted.”
“I want you.”
“I want you, too, but there is plenty of time.” Is he trying to talk me out of this? “No, I’m not trying to talk you out of anything,” he chuckles when I realize I spoke my question aloud. “I just want you to be sure.”
“I am.” I stare at him, expressing to him I won’t waver in this decision.
“Shit.”
“What?”
“You can’t drop this on me and expect me to stand upright for hours.” I watch as his hand disappears below the table, and he shifts uneasily.
Embracing Emma (Companion to Brisé) Page 9
