Surviving Emma

by Jen Atkinson

  I snorted. “And what about my work day?” I could have had another appointment, another payday if not for him. “I can’t just skip work.”

  “I made sure you were free, remember?” He pulled a wad of cash from his thin forest green jacket pocket. “This is for your missed appointments today.”

  I snatched the money from his hand. Screw pride. He owed me that. I thought business had finally picked up. I thought I might actually put a dime in savings this month. “Fine,” I said. “Exactly why are we driving over an hour and a half today?”

  “To shop. To eat.” He shrugged. “To hangout.”

  “I don’t have lunch money, Carter.” But I hadn’t been out of town in a while, a long while. And the idea had already spread through me, thawing my raging anger. “So, you’ll have to buy.”

  His lips cracked into a lop-sided grin, and to his credit, he didn’t mention the bundle of cash he just placed in my hands. “I can do that.”

  I hopped in the passenger seat of his red Ford Explorer. What in the world were we going to talk about for an hour and a half there—and back? I could pretend to sleep.

  Carter sat down beside me, rubbed his hands together, and turned the heater to high.

  “You really are from Florida, aren’t you?”

  “What?” he pulled the car into drive, giving me a credulous look. “It’s cold.”

  “It’s forty degrees today.”

  “Exactly.”

  I laughed a little and it sounded foreign coming from my own lips. Through my anxiety bubbled a giddiness I hadn’t experienced before—the thought of leaving town, Dakota happy, and Taggart far, far away gave me reason to act a little crazy. “Clearly our definition of cold is different.”

  He laughed, too, and didn’t have one smart retort for me.

  Carter

  The farther we drove the more relaxed Emma became. She even seemed to change in appearance. I could see a lightness come over her. I could see her unwind. Her long brown hair stretched down her back—she’d pulled it from the bun on top of her head. Even her pale skin, that needed to see the sun more often, began to pinken and glow. She laughed and her eyes sparkled with the action.

  It seemed that Dubois slowly killed her soul—Dubois or Taggart. And leaving, even the town’s borders, brought life back into Emma Sunday.

  “So,” I said, with the lull in conversation, “I heard once that your ten-year-old self had it right when figuring out what to do in life. What did ten-year-old Emma want to be when she grew up? Or was it always the magic of massage therapy?”

  “Don’t say it like that,” she said, pointing her finger my way and in that tone that always made me feel I might need to block a hit.

  “What way?”

  “With that airy—your online degree is so not impressive—voice.”

  “Believe me, you’ve got it wrong.” I took my eyes from the road to glance her way for one second. “You’re like a voodoo master. I’ve never recovered from back pain like that so quick before. You’re good at what you do, Emma.”

  A pretty blush crept into her cheeks at the compliment. I expected the normal—I told you so! Or something sassy from her mouth that included the word idiot, but Dubois couldn’t even be seen in the rearview mirror anymore, and she only said, “Thanks.”

  “So?”

  “Oh, ummm,” she hummed, but in a way that made me think she knew the answer to my question and just didn’t want to share.

  Which only stirred my curiosity more. “Come on. Who am I gonna tell?”

  “It’s not who you’ll tell, it’s the way you’ll laugh that makes me hesitant.”

  “I won’t laugh.”

  “You will.” She crossed her arms over her chest and confidently stared out at the road stretching onward in front of us. I’d found it impossible to change Emma’s mind when she’d decided on something.

  I thought for a minute. “My first day in the police academy my nerves about got the best of me. I wanted to impress my supervising officer. I wanted to act cool, to just be one of the guys and not this new idiot who knew nothing, ya know?” I glanced at her, her brows furrowed, listening. “Anyway, I walked up to Clint, my new mentor, sat my butt on the edge of his desk and downed half a cup of coffee in one gulp.”

  “And?”

  “Well, I hadn’t gotten myself any coffee. I’d gulped down Clint’s cup. I don’t know where my brain went. So stupid. Then Clint—the dude was big and had this glare that made you think you were about to die. Well, he scanned me from my seat to my mouth and asked, ‘Enjoying my coffee?’”

  She snorted a small laugh.

  “No, that’s not the worst part. Clint had bowel issues. He was always backed up.”

  “Gross, Carter.”

  “Yeah, well, he’d chucked his coffee full of MiraLAX, enough that my swig made sure I missed the morning meeting. I couldn’t leave the bathroom for the next hour.”

  She covered her mouth but clearly grinned beneath her fingers, and a small breathy chuckle escaped her.

  “There, now you’ve laughed at me.”

  “Yeah, but that was funny. You’re such an—”

  “Hey, now. We’re friends. Friends don’t call each other names.” The word idiot rolled off Emma’s tongue like second nature.

  She clamped her lips closed, and, to her credit, kept the word inside of her. “Right. Friends.”

  “So?” I glanced her way in time to see her squeeze her eyes shut. She looked as though she may give in—so I sat quiet, not wanting to spook her.

  “When I was a kid,” she said, and I refrained from pumping my fist with success, “I saw the counselor a lot.”

  I peered over and she fluttered her lashes in a eyeroll.

  “I had this one teacher, Mrs. Arnold. I guess she worried about me not having a momma at home. I don’t know. While my classmates went to music, I went to counseling. I didn’t mind, Ms. Stanton had M&Ms she’d share with me and we’d just talk. We talked enough that one day I got brave and told her what an ass Taggart is.”

  “You did not call him that.”

  “I did so. Nine-year-old Emma knew all kinds of words she shouldn’t thanks to her colorful mouthed father.” She cracked the tiniest of grins. “Anyway, I always thought I’d like to do what Ms. Stanton did, eat M&Ms and talk to kids who didn’t have parents to talk to.” She looked away from me and shook her head. “Stupid.”

  “Nah. That’s not stupid, Emma. That’s nice.” In all honestly, I couldn’t imagine Emma counseling anyone, but with every mile farther from Dubois and Taggart, she eased up. “Do you think you’ll ever do it?”

  “That’s so far away from the life I’m living. The only thing I can see is my work schedule for tomorrow. And the only future I’m worried about is Dakota’s.”

  “Then how will you ever get there?”

  She studied the road in front of us. “I won’t.”

  “How’d you meet Keith?”

  “Nope, my turn.” She twisted in her seat. “What’s the story with the girl on your fridge?”

  “Tess? I told you, we broke up.”

  “That’s not a story, that’s an ending.”

  “Okay.” I hadn’t thought of Tess in a few days. But when I did, it hurt. I’d loved her. But I couldn’t see a future with her. “Tess and I met when I brought a kid into the ER. She’s a pediatric nurse. We just hit it off and I asked her out before I left the hospital.”

  “That’s quick.”

  “Yeah, I guess. Things just felt right with Tess. They just clicked. We liked each other and we knew it.”

  “So, what happened?” No snark made up her tone, she just wanted to know.

  My turn to keep away from her gaze. I could keep my emotions in check, even if I felt like a kid with skinned knees on the inside. “We were together for a little more than a year. We just wanted different things.”

  “Like?”

  I sighed. “Like kids.”

  She narrowed her eyes—and I
knew she had mixed things up. And with no male support in her life, why wouldn’t she? I loved Dakota and she knew that. So of course she’d find it strange that I wouldn’t want a kid.

  I slid a glance to her and then back to the road. “She didn’t want kids.”

  “Oh.”

  “My family’s really important to me, my parents, my brothers and sister. I grew up in a pretty cookie cutter home. But I liked that. I wanted to travel and explore with Tess, but eventually I wanted a family. She didn’t. So, I broke things off.”

  “You broke things off?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Carter, you can’t dump a girl and keep her picture up. What’s wrong with you?” She turned in her bucket seat and faced me.

  “We broke up. I didn’t stop loving her.”

  “You love her?”

  I shrugged again. “I don’t know anymore. It’s been a long time.” But I did know, didn’t I? I just couldn’t say that to Emma.

  “Does she love you?” She watched me still, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at her.

  “She did,” I finally said. “I don’t know that answer anymore, either.”

  “So, you love each other, but you aren’t together?” She sighed and sat back in her seat, facing forward and thoughtful. “I guess love can’t conquer everything.”

  “What about Keith?”

  “I did not love that boy, ever.” She shook her head, offended that I’d even ask.

  “Well, that’s kind of sad.”

  “What?” Emma spoke—somehow making one word feel like a speech long accusation.

  “Dakota, not being conceived in love.”

  She groaned and tilted her head to the roof of the car. “Don’t be such a girl, Carter.” She crossed her arms, but her stiffness seemed to soften a little. “I thought I loved him. But then I had Dakota. I never felt one ounce for Keith what I do for Kotes.”

  The steering wheel began to sweat beneath my hold. “What do you mean?” I couldn’t imagine Emma in love—the anger that burned inside of her seemed brighter than all other emotions combined—except maybe when she kissed me. She had a real personal definition of love and my heart drummed with anticipation to hear it.

  She brushed a hair behind her ear and I had an urge to touch her there. “I mean you’re smart to not settle. I loved my grandma, I thought I felt some type of love for Keith, but the day I had Dakota I knew I’d been mistaken. My feelings for him couldn’t compare to how I felt that day.” She sighed in thought and shook her head. “Seventeen-years-old with no job, no degree, and no baby-daddy. I had no business having a baby. But I couldn’t change what was. When Dakota decided the time had come—like everything in her life, she’s advanced—she came early, Taggart lay at home, drunk as a skunk. Keith had cut off all communication with me. My grandma had died by then. I never knew loneliness until that day. And it terrified me. I waited until I couldn’t bear the pain of the contractions anymore before I drove myself to Jackson. It was strangely the worst and best day of my entire life.” She watched me while she spoke. She said so much. I didn’t want to breath too loudly, afraid she’d stop. “I thought I would die of grief and agony. And if I didn’t die, then I had to be a mom. I didn’t know how to be a mom. But then she came, with just me, a nurse, and the doctor present. She came into the world and my life forever changed. I thought the voice of God had spoken to me when that baby cried. I’d suddenly become important because she belonged to me, and me to her. That day I learned what love should be.”

  “Wow.” My mouth had gone dry. She’d offered so much more than I ever thought she’d give me.

  “Yeah.” She held her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out with you and Tess. But I’m glad you broke things off with her, Carter. You deserve to have that.”

  Chapter 25

  Emma

  By the time we pulled into Jackson I had spilled my guts to Aiden Carter. He’d flipped some weird switch inside of me, making me overshare and kiss. I didn’t really mind the kissing, but the sharing needed to have a cap put on it.

  Carter parked his Explorer in front of a block of touristy shops. “Last time I was here I saw this giant stuffed giraffe that Dakota would love.” He opened his door and stepped out into semi-spring weather. The day really had shaped up to be beautiful.

  I followed after him. “A giraffe?”

  “Yeah, she read me a book about them last week. It made me think back to this store. Come on.”

  When I paused, he picked up my hand and, trying to be civil, I didn’t yank it away from him. He laced his fingers through mine, making me feel as if my hand had grown an alien appendage, and led me down the row of stores until we reached what looked like an old time toy shop.

  “Why were you even in here?” Duh. Dakota. “Never mind.”

  He led me inside, through a maze of trains and doll houses, clear to the back where the wall from ceiling to floor held stuffed animals. In the right corner stood a four foot tall giraffe.

  “No,” I said the minute I saw it. “We aren’t buying her that.” Not that I’d be buying her anything, though Carter’s wad of cash burned a hole in my pocket. Still, I hoped to have hot water this month—bills win again.

  “Why not? She could ride it, like a pony.”

  “She has Keith.”

  “She can’t ride Keith.” His face looked as though maybe he wanted to ride it like a pony. “Besides, if we keep leaving him with Andy, we’re going to lose him. He’s getting attached.”

  “I am happy to share custody,” I said, through a laugh.

  As if we starred in the latest Hallmark movie, Carter’s laughter joined mine. Chest pounding, I turned a few inches to face him. He brushed a stray hair from my face and looped it behind my right ear, his hand lingering there. I met his eyes, bluer than the sky today, and lifted my chin just an inch. He cupped his hand around my jaw and brought his lips to mine, slow and cautious, but longing. I let him kiss me. He kissed me. I let the Hallmark movie play out it’s scene from this life I couldn’t live, with this man that didn’t belong to me.

  He wrapped an arm around my back and pulled me against him, his lips still exploring mine. He tasted like a Peppermint Patty, sweet and minty all at once. I didn’t pull away until an old fashioned toy dog began to yap and the little boy holding the dog moaned in disgust.

  Carter breathed out a laugh, warming my cheek. He kept his arm snuggly wrapped around me, but glanced at the new arrival. “Hey there,” he said to the kid who wrinkled his nose as if we smelled bad. Carter peered back down at me, regarding me for a moment before smiling. “So no giraffe, then?”

  I shook my head, holding back my own grin. I must have looked ridiculous. But I took the opportunity—strange town, strange people—to not let it bother me.

  “All right then, we should go.” He slid his hand into mine again and led me back to the front of the store.

  We shopped and talked and laughed. And when Carter insisted on buying Dakota a few summer clothes I didn’t argue. I didn’t know what she’d wear come summer, anyhow.

  “What about these?” he asked in yet another clothing store. He held up a pair of denim shorts that would have drowned Kotes.

  “Those are way too big for Dakota.”

  “No, for you.”

  I took the shorts from his hands. “You are not buying me clothes.”

  He took them back, folding them over his arm. “I’m pretty sure we’ve both learned by now that we can’t tell the other what to do.”

  I scoffed and fluttered my lashes at the giant child in front of me. “Those aren’t even my size. I couldn’t slip one leg into a size one.”

  “Are you kidding? You’re all skin and bones. Why do you think I keep buying you chocolate pretzels?”

  I moaned and pulled a size six from the rack. The fours I wore everyday pinched my gut and I could barely latch their button.

  He traded me, grinning with his victory, and pulled two more pair in different colors f
rom the rack.

  “Dakota’s right,” I said, following him to the checkout, “your love language must be gifts.”

  “My love language?”

  I felt my cheeks turn pink. “It just means how you show kindness to others.”

  “Aw.” He handed the clerk his credit card and turned to face me. “And what’s your love language?”

  “Yelling at people.” I pinched my lips to keep from laughing, but Carter let out a hoot at my joke. He wiped his eyes and a quiet stillness settled in. “Are you sure you can afford all that?” I nodded at the two large bags the clerk had just filled with mine and Dakota’s summer wardrobe.

  “I’m sure,” he said, and his eyes bounced down to my lips once more. “Ready for a late lunch?”

  “Yeah.” I held to the opened ends of my coat. It hadn’t had a working zipper for two winters, but it fit. Carter reached out, and with his free left hand, he snatched my right. His warm fingers spread heat through me, more than any coat could. The fever stretched from our knotted hand and into my chest.

  The day continued on, talking, laughing, shopping, kissing. But like all cheese-ball Hallmark movies, it had to end. We rolled into Dubois at 6:15 and my insides literally felt heavier. “Next time, let’s bring Kotes.” I could only imagine how I’d feel having her with us. Something about Dubois made me feel as if life were closing in around me. If she had been with us today, I might have felt like the freest bird in the sky. I might have never come back.

  I hadn’t said a word since we hit the outskirts of town. I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t let me, not without crying. And I’d cried more in the last few months than I had my whole life.

  “I bought some frozen hamburgers last week,” he said as we rolled up to the cabin. “They’re in your freezer. I can grill those up quick for us. I told Virgie we’d be back for dinner.”

  “You can’t come in,” I said, finding my voice.

  “Why not?”

  I looked at him, at his square jaw and long eyelashes, his blue eyes peering back at me. “Today wasn’t real life, Carter. We’re kidding ourselves and it isn’t healthy.”