Chapter Thirteen
Emily
Instead of his hair being up in spikes, he actually combed it, and it falls down past the tops of his ears, but not past the earlobe. I can’t help but look him up and down from head to toe as I step aside. I’m about to tell him to come in when Jim comes down the stairs with what would be known in the olden days as his Sunday best. He’s wearing a pair of black slacks, a button down shirt with an actual pair of slick black shoes on and a belt.
Maybe I shouldn’t have told him about Mason coming over tonight. But then again, it is his and Laura’s house. Still, he could have toned it down a little bit.
“You must be Mason.” He holds his large hand out to Mason’s, and I can’t help but notice that Mason’s is just as large as Jim’s. They look nearly as rough too.
“And you must be Jim.” The two of them size each other up for a few seconds in the doorway, and then I clear my throat.
“The enchiladas are getting cold.” I tell them both as I turn around to head back into the kitchen. Against Jim’s nagging, I set up the kitchen table instead of the dining room table. I don’t want Mason to feel any more intimidated than he already does about meeting the two people I live with.
Jim settles himself down at the round table, but Mason helps me actually move the steaming bowls of mashed potatoes, corn, and buttered Brussels sprouts to the table. That’s a plus one for him in Jim’s eyes, and a plus one for me too. We all dig in without speaking until our plates are full. Then this awkward silence seems to fall over all of us as we try to come up with something to say to one another. So I do what I normally do when someone is sitting at the table with me.
“So how was your day?” The amusing part is both men think I’m talking to them at once. Mason tries to answer, and Jim starts in right away. They glance at each other awkwardly, and then Jim starts in again.
“Well one of the young men on my shift stuck both his fingers together with a nail as he was attempting to put up a wall. I had to drive him to the hospital, so the truck needs to be detailed tomorrow. That’s why I’ve got Laura’s car.” I wrinkle my nose with disgust and Mason looks intrigued.
“So what does Emily’s mom do for a living?” There’s this moment where my stomach literally just drops right out from under me, and my mouth hangs askew for a few seconds. Then I manage to swallow the bite of mashed potatoes. Jim doesn’t seem to have fared any better than I, and he shoots me an accusing look across the table.
Mason seems to understand that he’s overstepped some kind of boundary or he’s brought up a very intense subject. Jim clears his throat, quietly excuses himself and takes his plate out to the living room. He mumbles something about Mason, and I needing to discuss something. I haven’t actually broached this subject with anyone since my mother passed and I was brought into Jim and Laura’s home as a foster child.
“What was that about?” Mason quietly asks me. His fork is resting on his half eaten enchilada, and I feel bad for not mentioning this before. Now neither one of us will get to finish our meal because surely Mason will be scared off by someone like me. It seems my brain has forgotten about the fact that he lost his mother at two years of age, and his father had a rough time with it.
“Jim and Laura are my foster parents.” I start off with that. Mason picks up his fork and shoves a glob of corn in. He chews mechanically, which somehow makes me feel comfortable enough to go on. “I don’t know who my father is or was. My mother never really talked about him. She just said that they were too young to be responsible enough to have a kid, and as far as I know he never sent child support.” This is not a conversation to be had at the dinner table, but it seems this is where it’s going to take place.
“So your mother left you at a foster home because she wasn’t able to care for a kid.” Mason takes a guess, and I feel my insides twist.
“No, my mother killed herself about nine months ago.” The grip Mason has on the handle of his fork frightens me. His knuckles are turning white, and I’m sure that it’s actually painful. He sets it down gently, wipes his lips with his napkin, and turns to stare at me.
“So she couldn’t stick around until the end of your senior year? That’s just,” Mason pauses, and I look down at my plate. Suddenly it’s like I’m looking at a pile of sewage in front of me, and I feel queasy. “Wrong.” Mason finally finishes.
I don’t know what to say to him about it. For the past few weeks, even though I wake up from nightmares I still feel like my life has been a little brighter since I meant Mason. Now he’s either going to see me as a broken girl and treat me differently, or he’s going to be constantly reminded of his own mother’s passing when he looks at me. I don’t know what I was thinking, letting this get past being just acquaintances at the rescue center.
Just as I’m about to tell him that it’s alright if he wants to leave, Mason reaches over and takes my hand in his. He doesn’t need to say it, I know exactly what he’s thinking. It’s the same dilemma that I had when he told me about his mother. There just aren’t words for the impact it has upon a young person to lose their parents in a violent manner way too early.
After a few minutes, Jim comes in through the kitchen doorway and Mason withdraws his hand. My enchilada looks like it should now, and I’m not feeling as queasy. So I decide to finish my dinner, and just for brownie points Mason helps me with the dishes. It’s past seven thirty by the time we’re finished, and Laura manages to catch Mason before he leaves.
The two of them chat at the front door, and I patiently wait for Laura to find her husband. When she’s finally gone, Mason doesn’t waste any time. He puts his arm around my waist like he did earlier this morning, and he pulls me in close. This time he lingers as he kisses me, and I feel his fingers gripping the back of my t-shirt. The pool of heat that established at my lower abdomen makes me blush, and when he gently parts my lips I can’t help the squeak that comes out of me.
I would be lying if I said I have ever been kissed like this before. Sure there were a few chaste kisses from suitors when I was a young girl at the middle school dances, but this is a kiss that has me thinking about a soft bed and candles lit. Mason finally pulls away from me, and we’re both breathless. He has a twinkle in his eyes that tells me he enjoyed the kiss as much as I did.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks. Part of me feels like this might be moving a little too soon, but then again we’ve known each other almost a month. We spent every day together for the past three weeks, and I don’t want to change that habit.
“What’re you doing for lunch?” I ask him in a whisper.
“Emily, are you sure Laura and Jim will be comfortable with me being here while they’re not?” I feel a tug at the corner of my lip, and he leans down to kiss the smile right off my face.
“I’ll text you, let you know if you’re coming over for lunch or dinner tomorrow.” He nods, and just like that he’s walking out the door. I feel a pang of longing when I see him slip into his car, but he turns to wave at me once before he drives off. Laura clears her throat behind me, and I have to force myself to turn around.
“While he’s a handsome boy and seems nice, I still think that you should be careful, Emily.” I make a quick promise to heed her warning, and then I make my way up the steps to my lonely bedroom.
Mason
I tap the ‘end call’ button on my cellphone’s touchscreen display with relief flooding me. While the interior of the house needs a lot of work, the wiring and the plumbing all seems to be in working condition. The well water also seems fine, so it’s safe. It turns out the breaker switch was just turned off. I just need to get all the utilities in my own name rather than my father’s, and then I’ll be set.
It’s just after four in the afternoon, so I decide to call Emily up to let her know the good news. I’ve seen her every day but today this week. And each time our goodnight kiss is a little more heated than last. Now that her secret about her mother is out in the open, it’s like we’re m
oving forward and trying to make up for lost time.
Two more weeks, I tell myself silently as I wait for her to pick up the phone.
“Hi,” just that one word makes me smile when she picks up the phone. It’s not the word probably, but the way she says it. It’s like she reserves that tone just for me, and I pray that no one else will be the recipient of it.
“Hey, I just got off the phone with the inspector.” I wait a heartbeat and hear her inhale on the other end of the line. “He says while the interior is a complete mess, the wiring and the plumbing all seem to be intact. So we have the go ahead to renovate.” I finally hear her exhale.
“Oh, that’s great! So you’re not working tomorrow, right? We could stop by the hardware store and pick up what we know we need, and then we’ll make a list while we’re at the house. I can get started on cleaning everything up and seeing if some of its salvageable. And then we’ll get started on some of the bigger projects on Sunday! I Have another week until I graduate, and then we can work on it during the evenings…” I tune out at that point and try to get her attention by saying her name. It takes me three times to get her to stop rambling on about how she’s going to help me with my new home.
“Emily, listen I was hoping maybe I could swing by and pick you up for a celebratory dinner. We can discuss all the painting, new trim, and flooring that you want to look at tonight.” I can almost see her smiling, and can’t help the Cheshire grin that overtakes my face.
“Oh, alright. Yeah I’ll be ready by the time you get here. Where are we going?” I’m standing on the steps of the rescue center, and Jesse chooses that moment to walk out the doors. She raises her nose in the air at me, and saunters up to Taylor standing by his new Corvette. I’d rather earn something like that then take the money from my father to purchase it.
“Leave that to me, I’ll be there in half an hour.” We don’t bother saying goodbye. They’re always awkward for both of us, and I think it brings up bad memories for Emily. I pull my keys from my pocket and glance down at my shirt and pants. I should have enough time to swing by the house, change, and pick Emily up.
Taylor gives me an ugly look as I slide into my Camaro, and I feel like giving him the finger. The man obviously hasn’t given up on seeing Emily, even though he’s the one who got her banned. Jesse seems oblivious to this. I don’t feel bad for either one of them. They’ve made their own beds and can lie in them. I’m going to go pick up one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen and take her to the diner in town. She doesn’t seem to mind cheap dates. I’m saving up money for the big date. Her birthday is in two weeks.
My ride home is pretty uneventful. I do have one text from my father stating that Baby is still curled up in my room asleep. If I leave her with one of my t-shirts, the separation anxiety doesn’t seem as bad. I make sure to pat her on the head and tell her what a good dog she is for not chewing my bedpost today. She heads out for a quick bathroom break, and then I leave her sitting next my father in front of the television.
“Don’t feed her anymore leftovers. I’m going to have to get her an enema if you do.” My father snorts as if I’m joking, but I give him a serious look.
“Alright, fine. I guess it’s that nasty crap from the fridge that you’re getting tonight.” The eye roll is inevitable, and before my father can say anything about me being the mean owner I book it out the door.
As I pull up to Emily’s curb, she’s standing in the evening rays of sunshine. Her hair looks almost like it’s on fire, which distracts me for a microsecond from the fact that she’s not wearing jeans today. Every time I’ve seen Emily, she’s wearing a pair of jeans and some sort of t-shirt. I’ll have to take her out to dinner without telling her where we’re going more often.
It’s a seasonably warm, spring evening. As she descends the stairs, the small sundress she’s wearing clings to her legs. I sincerely hope I’m not drooling by the time she slides into the passenger seat of the Camaro. Strike one against me. I should have gotten the door for her, but I was too mesmerized by the sway of her hips and the shape of her body under the fabric.
“Are we going to eat?” It’s not until she speaks that I realize I’m staring at her. I’m specifically staring at the way she’s pulled her hair up into a ponytail with pieces hanging around her face.
“Yeah,” I tell her quietly as I reach a hand across to touch her face. It’s a feather light touch, but Emily’s cheeks flush anyway. The feel of her soft skin against my knuckles has me smiling. Then I pull my hand away and try to remember where I was taking her.
“So did the inspector say he was giving you a list of what needs to be done?” Emily doesn’t waste any time jumping into the conversation. I can’t help but grin because a week ago she would have let me start off the conversation. She’s quickly becoming less shy around me.
“Yeah, he’s going to leave a copy of the inspection report in the mailbox. Hopefully it actually stays in there, considering its condition.” There are some trees still in people’s yards from last weekend’s storm. I can’t say I wish it hadn’t come through.
This time when I pull up into the parking space at the diner, I make sure to get out of the vehicle quickly and get the door for Emily. She gives me a rueful smile for my effort and manages to get to the diner’s door before me. In retaliation, I keep a hand on the small of her back as we’re led to our seat.
“So how is Noah doing?” And that sparks the conversation about finding three ferrets in the waiting area. Emily is passionate about her frustration with people leaving their animals behind, especially when it’s during a storm. She’s not off the subject until we finally get our meals, crab cakes for her and another burger for me.
I tell her about what can be done by ourselves in the house, and she looks a little put out that I might have to hire some contractors to do the rest. I imagine I have enough to make the house livable for now, but some of the cosmetics will have to wait. The barn is what I really want to work on, but first I need to know if Emily’s going to be on board with me for my idea. I’m just too nervous to broach the subject, and yet I’d better do it tonight or I might waste time and money.
“So listen, I’ve been thinking about the barn near the back of the property.” Emily immediately stops eating her ice cream and puts her spoon down. She waits patiently for me to go on. “I know you’re going to be heading off to college in the fall, but I was wondering if you would like to help me start up my own rescue. Mainly for dogs, cats, and a few small animals because I don’t think I would have enough room for any barn animals.” I’m rambling, but Emily is just staring at me. So I continue on.
“I was thinking maybe I could start by fostering some of the animals from the Warren Rescue, and then we could move on to getting our own facilities off property.” Oops, I said the word we. That’s the word that usually scares most girls away. Because the word ‘we’ entails a commitment. In this case, I’m asking her to partner up with me in fostering some animals and starting our own shelter one day.
Emily just continues to stare at me as her ice cream starts to melt, and I wonder if I’ve killed all chances of us ever having a relationship, much less working together. Maybe it was too soon to spring this idea on her. Perhaps I should have waited until we were seeing each other for at least a month before I went babbling about creating my own rescue with her involved. Then she picks up her spoon and shoves a large glob of ice cream into her mouth, and I feel my heart freeze in anticipation.
Chapter Fourteen
Emily
I feel hot and tingly all over, and I’m hoping that this mouthful of ice cream will cool me down. It just makes my head hurt instead. What he’s asking is much more than just volunteering. Mason is asking me to help him with running his own business, and I’m not sure that this fragile thing we have between us that might be considered a relationship will work. And yet, I know my affinity to helping animals. My time at the Warren Rescue is over because I was too forceful with my independence the
re. But if I were to work with Mason, he would understand my need to help animals in dire need of affection and training. I would be free to do what I pleased there because I would be a business partner. My insight would be valued.
The ice cream has fully melted, and I swallow. I’m about to put another scoop into my mouth so that I have more time to think, when Mason gets this pained look on his face. He expected a response, and he thinks he’s already gotten one from me. I put down the vanilla ice cream and dab at my lips with a napkin. Then I feel that he’s waited long enough, and give him a lazy, lopsided grin.
“You won’t yell at me for trying to tame an angry mastiff?” I ask him quietly. Mason takes a long time to answer me.
“I can’t guarantee that. If it tries to rip your throat out, I may have some ugly words for the mastiff.” I quirk an eyebrow at him, and he smiles at me. “But I’ll try to contain myself, and I’ll trust your judgment. However, there will be no handling of the animals until they are cleared of all diseases and had their injections. Which I will handle personally. Deal?” This time I put the ice cream into my mouth and watch him sweat a little more over my answer. He opens his mouth, probably about to revoke that deal, when I swallow and reach a hand across the table as if I’m about to give him a handshake. Mason takes it, but he doesn’t let it go.
“Deal,” I tell him. I’ll worry about the other kinks later, like where I’m going to live when I graduate high school and where I’m going to college. I’m not sure that college is really an option for me anymore, but I could be wrong about that. I was wrong about not wanting a relationship.
“So what time are you going to pick me up tomorrow?” First things first, that house has to be in working condition before any type of foster home or rescue is set up there. Mason and I hash out the details while he partakes in my ice cream, and then he drives me home. Laura stops me before I manage to get up the stairs and asks me if she can speak with me.
Rescue (Emily and Mason) Page 11
