by M. Sembera
Suddenly Hert’s his voice was sober as he said, “You’re the only one I would ever marry. Renni, I…” stopping as Emerson stepped back into the room.
In the midst of my melt down, I had heard the phone ring but never expected it to be for me. Emerson held out the phone to me with a disappointed expression on his face.
I answered, “Hello,” before I heard Henley’s voice say, “Hey.”
“Hey,” I breathed.
His voice was distressed as he asked, “Please come see me.”
Even though we had agreed the night before not to see each other until I got back, because I knew how hard it would be to leave him if I did, I said, “Okay.”
I hung up the phone and quickly turned as Jackson walked in the room smiling wide. His face fell as he glanced around and saw Emerson looking sad, Hert angry and me, I’m sure regretful.
“I’ll be back,” I informed and started to walk out.
In an irritated voice, Hert announced, “She’s not going.”
Jackson’s expression turned to worry as I shouted, “Yes I am!”
Scowling, Hert insisted, “No you won’t.”
Mad at Hert for calling me out on what I already knew was true, I left the three of them standing in Emerson’s room.
I had already cried and yelled so by the time I walked down the little path to Henley’s door, there was nothing left but sadness.
He opened the door, took one look at me and said, “I got you a present.”
Expressionless, I nodded. Carefully pulling up a chair, he walked me over and sat me down in it.
“Eyes closed,” he stated.
Sitting there with my eyes closed, I couldn’t get my friends faces out of my mind.
“Ok, open,” he said.
Opening my eyes, I gave a little smile. In his hand was a gold bracelet with rubies and diamonds alternating all the way around. I’m sure it was far more expensive but it just wasn’t the same. It wasn’t once my grandmother’s, or the only thing my mother did special for me and it sure as hell wasn’t the one Jacks commented on when he kissed my bruises.
Nodding at it, I pretended it was a worthy replacement, saying, “Thank you.”
Falling to his knees in front of me, Henley fastened it onto my wrist saying, “Don’t take it off.”
“I won’t,” I agreed before leaning down and kissing him.
Standing up, he pulled me to my feet and stated, “I have one more.”
As I nodded, he reached into his pocket before pulling my hair into a ponytail with a red hair thing.
“Now you look like mine,” he whispered into my cheek.
I had no idea he noticed that I always wore a green one.
Without thinking, I asked, “What did I look like before?”
Making a disgusted face, “Someone else’s with all that mick green.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I snapped, “Do you have a problem with Gus and his family?” purposely not mentioning Jackson’s name.
Shaking his head, he said, “No, it is fine for them. Not for you.”
“Them?” I questioned.
As if he couldn’t understand what my problem was, he snapped, “Them. You know those…” before I stopped him.
Not able to think of one member of Jackson’s family that didn’t give me a warm and fuzzy feeling, I griped, “Those what? You act like being Irish is a crime.”
With an awful grin, he replied, “Should be.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, what do you do for a living again?” I asked, suggesting he should rethink that comment.
Catching me by surprise, one of his hands was quickly knotted around the front of my shirt and the other was firmly holding my face.
“Don’t ever compare me to a taig,” Henley warned through gritted teeth.
Outraged, for so many reasons, I reached up slapping him several times, while shouting, “Don’t you ever put your hands on me like that,” until he let go.
Breathing heavy through his nose, he glared at me with his teeth clenched, watching me try to unclasp the bracelet. I couldn’t get the damn thing off.
When he growled, “Don’t take it off,” I ripped it off over my hand and threw it across the room.
Instantly seeing stars when his knuckles hit right under my nose as he back handed me, it took me a minute to steady myself. Shaking my head, I stared at him wide eyed as my nose started to bleed. It felt so familiar I thought I was going to be sick. Turning towards the door, I pulled my hair down and flicked the hair thing away.
“You said you wouldn’t leave,” he shouted, sounding wounded.
Furious, he was trying to make this my fault, I faced him shouting, “I’m not leaving you 'cause I’m not with you! I don’t even like your sorry ass!”
“I will come get you,” he assured.
Done, I walked out and ran to my car.
Wanting to get as far away from him as quick as possible, I sped all the way home. I couldn’t calm down. Grabbing a dishrag and a hand full of ice before stomping to my room, I slammed my bedroom door. Instead of holding the rag on my nose as planned, I threw it against Henley’s shirt that he hung on my wall as hard as I could. I hated that shirt and I hated him for trying to replace the people I cared about. Yanking his shirt from my wall, I started to rip it apart when I saw ‘don’t leave me’ written on my wall underneath. All of the sudden, I couldn’t catch my breath. How did he know I would take it down? Holding his shirt tight in my fingers, I pressed it to my aching chest. Tears filled my eyes and as I stood there shaking. I wanted him to come. Stumbling to my bed, I balled Henley’s shirt up and curled up in my comforter holding it tight and wishing he would come. He could be rough or gentle, I didn’t care. I just needed him to be here. I wanted to feel his breath on my face, to hear him whisper. The void he filled was consuming me and I wanted him to be hurting too. He had to be. He said he would come.
Chapter 23
Whatever I felt the night before, instantly changed the moment I looked in the mirror the next morning. I had one dark bruise on each cheek that actually made me look like I had dimples, where Henley grabbed my face. My nose was swollen and under my eyes had a blue tint. It really hurt too. I couldn’t do anything without my face throbbing. I spent the week in my room. I wasn’t sad or depressed there just wasn’t anything for me to do. Flowers arrived for me every day and with every batch, I found new and interesting ways to dispose of them.
Henley and I were over and I was over it but at the same time, I knew how my friends would react if they saw me. When Emerson called to tell me they were back, I was excited but told him I would stop by in a few days, a few days and lots of makeup. When I finally did leave the house to go visit, Henley was waiting outside my house, when I left and when I returned. Without looking at him or speaking to him, I just held my middle finger up to him each time. I wasn’t sure what Hert was doing but he wasn’t at Emerson’s and I got the feeling he didn’t want to see me. I couldn’t really blame him. I knew he was mad and he had every right to be. Jackson on the other hand was thrilled to see me. I think maybe he missed me and it didn’t hurt that Henley was no longer in the picture. I never said why we were no longer together or why I never showed up for our trip and Jackson didn’t ask. There was lots of extra flirting and smiles from him. Emerson was routinely disappointed over his latest break up and the fact that I didn’t want to stay the night. I missed him and visited everyday but my house was suddenly so peaceful, that’s where I wanted to be. My house was dead silent all the time. No one yelled or even spoke. I knew my parents were there but I barely saw them. Each night before I fell asleep, I would smile at the spot on my wall where I wrote, ‘Che Diavolo’ over Henley’s don’t leave me. It seemed fitting that I used the name of his shop to tell him to ‘go to hell’ on my wall. Plus, I wasn’t entirely sure, that if asked, my father would deny him access to my room. Most nights, I hoped he had seen it.
For several weeks, every time I saw Hert he refused to speak to me. I had di
nner at The Thomas’s a few times and even helped Jackson close down the bar on his last night working for Gus. Emerson had practically begged me to stay the night. Finally, I agreed after he said Jackson wanted the three of us to spend the weekend together because he only had one week left before college.
When I arrived at Emerson’s, Hert was sitting at the kitchen table.
“Hey,” I greeted in a monotone voice.
Hert glanced at my little black duffle before asking, “Are you staying the night?”
I nodded and he got up and left.
With a heavy sigh, I set my bag on the chair and sat down as Em walked in asking, “Where’s Hert?”
“He left,” I mumbled.
Appearing sympathetic, he asked, “What did he say?”
Shrugging, I replied, “He just asked if I was staying and then left.”
With a soft smile, Em said, “Well at least he spoke to you this time.”
“I guess,” I agreed before asking, “When is Jackson gonna be here?”
“I thought he was coming tonight but he has a date. He will be here tomorrow,” he shared.
Disappointed, I stood up and walked to the living room.
I walked to the couch as Emerson followed. We both sat down.
“I still love you, Ren,” Em assured, looking concerned.
Leaning my head against the couch, I asked, “Why are you always so nice about everything?”
With a light smile, he replied, “I was upset but I am sure you were not purposely trying to hurt anyone.”
Nodding, I said, “I didn’t stay with him instead of going with ya’ll.”
Appearing confused, he said, “You didn’t.”
Shaking my head, I shared, “I guess I was going to but that’s not why I didn’t go.”
For the first time since I met him, Emerson was blunt and straight to the point.
“You need to tell me what happened,” he stated.
“Em…I…” I stuttered before he said, “No, it’s important that you tell me.”
Scowling at first, I took a breath and admitted, “If I had come back here when I left his house, the trip would have been ruined for everyone.”
“Because you think we had a good time without you?” he questioned.
Hesitantly, I explained, “Because…because I was hurt.”
Instantly, Emerson wrapped his arms around me.
At a whisper, he asked, “You’re not going back are you?”
Shaking my head into his shoulder, I appreciated the protected feeling it invoked.
I have no idea how long I sat there with his arms around me. Feeling like I hadn’t slept in months, I had been so wrapped up in Henley, I forgot what this felt like. All kinds of things occurred to me and suddenly I had a plan to make Jackson’s last week before he left count and find a way to get Hert to forgive me.
Pulling away and hopping up, I said, “Let's go,” before I headed out of the living room, through the kitchen and out the back door.
Grabbing the basketball out of the garage, I skipped over to the court. Emerson’s eyes lit up as I smiled and tossed the ball to him. I had spent so much time thinking about what I was losing, I forgot, Emerson was going to be all alone now.
After basketball, we played pool, then cards, watched a movie, laughed so hard I thought I would pass out and finally went to bed. Curling up onto Em, I was glad to have my side of the bed back.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For what?” he asked.
Giving him a little squeeze, I replied, “For giving me a hug when I needed it.”
“I love you,” he whispered.
“You’re my best friend Em, and I love you too,” I assured.
Closing my eyes, I recalled the first time I came to Emerson’s house. I never would have guessed he would turn out to be my best friend. I smiled to myself thinking, and Jacks. No one thought we would go out on more than one date, let alone still be friends. And of course Hert was mad at me but then again, he always was. They were the most important people in my life. It was different now for all of us but as long as I kept them my priority, change might not be so bad. My house and parents were different now and it was a good different. Ready for the next stage of my life, I snuggled closer to Emerson, thinking we might be okay after all. Em tightened his grip on me and I fell asleep happy.
Chapter 24
Fully rested when I woke, I hopped into the shower. After drying off and getting dressed, I wished I had packed something cuter for when Jackson came over. While I waited for my hair to dry, I sat on the edge of Emerson’s bed, thinking of something to give Jackson before he left. There was only one thing he had ever asked me for and I couldn’t give him that, especially since he was leaving in a week. Deciding to ask Emerson what he might like, I stood up.
Emerson was standing in the doorway holding the phone out to me as I slowly walked towards him. I could tell something was wrong but I couldn’t figure out what it could be. When I put the phone to my ear there was a man on the other end of the line. He said there was a fire and he needed to speak with me in person about my parents.
Nodding into the phone, it wasn’t until the man blurted, “Miss Cantinelli,” that I realized I wasn’t speaking.
“Yes sir, I’ll be here,” I said before I hung up the phone.
Looking at Emerson, I grabbed my bag off of the chair by his bed. Slowly making my way downstairs, I didn’t understand what had happened.
I sat on the couch in the living room waiting. When the Police Officer arrived, he had a Counselor and the Fire Marshal with him. The Fire Marshal explained what happened, using words like tragic and regrettable. The longer he spoke the less I heard but when he used the word fortunate, I instantly hated him. The Counselor handed me a card and advised that I call her. The Police Officer asked Emerson if I had a place to stay. After Emerson assured, I could stay with him, they left.
Unable to believe what was happening, I just sat there. Feeling Emerson’s hand on my shoulder, I turned and looked at him.
With more sympathy than I could have imagined, he whispered, “I am so sorry.”
The moment I heard his sorry, I started shaking my head. I was sorry. Instantly, I wished I could take it all back. Every rule I broke, every sarcastic remark, every time I refused to submit to my fathers will, all of it. I wanted to take it back. I could have told my mother I understood, instead of wishing she was a different person. None of that was possible now because they were gone.
Taking short breaths, I glared at Emerson, saying, “I should have been there.” I watched him shake his head at me as I insisted, “I didn’t even want to stay here. I wanted to go home. I should have gone home. I should have been there.”
Wrapping his arms around me tight, he soothed, “No Ren, if you were you would be gone too.”
And then, I started to cry.
As my heaving sobs subsided, I couldn’t look at Emerson. I wasn’t mad at him. I just couldn’t stand the pathetic way he looked at me.
Brushing my hair from my face, he whispered, “It is going to be okay. We will get through this.”
Shaking my head, I pulled away and leaned the other direction.
“We will, Ren…I promise,” he said before offering, “Do you want your pillow?”
Nodding, I mumbled, “Yea, and the phone.”
Em slowly stood up and made his way up the stairs.
All I could think was, I have to get out of here but I had no place to go. Not only were my parents gone, so was my house. Where would I go? Hert had already been through so much with his parents. How did he do this? He was strong and controlled through every moment of his father’s death and his mother’s breakdown. If I went to Hert and he refused to speak to me or worse told me I needed to grow up, I couldn’t handle it. Jackson was my only hope. He could take me somewhere, anywhere, so I didn’t have to be here.
Emerson came back downstairs, handed me my pillow and the phone before covering me with a blank
et. Curling into my pillow, I dialed Jackson’s phone number.
When Mrs. Thomas answered with a cheerful hello, I asked, “Is Jackson there?”
“No he’s not. Ren honey, are you alright?” she questioned.
Trying not to fall apart on the phone with her, I replied, “I just really needed to talk to him.”
I could hear the disbelief in her voice as she said, “Okay, let me see if JP knows.”
I held on the line while she asked Mr. Thomas if he knew where Jackson was.
“Sorry, did you try Gus?” she asked.
Disappointed, I answered, “No ma’am, I will.”
“Okay honey, you sure you’re alright?” she questioned again.
I lied, saying, “Yes ma’am,” just before I hung up.
After calling Gus’s house, his wife suggested I call The Bar. Thinking, please be there, I dialed the number.
Gus quickly answered, saying, “Bar, what ya need.”
With a controlled breath, I asked, “Hey Gus, its Ren, is Jacks there?”
“Was earlier, not sure where he ran off to,” he replied.
Frowning at the phone, I said, “Okay.”
“Ya want me to tell him you’re lookin’ for him if he turns up?” he offered.
About to cry again, I answered, “No thanks,” and hung up.
Shaking my head into my pillow, I started crying again as Emerson tried to comfort me.
Feeling as though I would die if I stayed at Emerson’s any longer, I stared at my little black duffle bag sitting on the floor next to me. He wouldn’t let me leave, I already knew it. I needed to be away from him, from this house. I didn’t need comforting. I needed this to not be happening. I had to go.
Slowly sitting up, I placed my hand over Emerson’s, asking, “Will you go get me my hair thing from your bathroom?”
Nodding, he questioned, “The green one?”
I nodded back, answering, “I think I left it on the edge of the bathtub this morning.”
