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She ended the call and then burst out laughing.

“What was that all about?” we asked her.

“I was over at the house today and Alan was upstairs…and his cell phone was sitting on the kitchen counter…” She began laughing again. “…and I changed his ring tone!”

“To what?” I asked.

Laura started singing the Dean Martin classic, “
You’re nobody till somebody loves you…you’re nobody till somebody cares…”

Giggling and singing, I joined in, “
You may be king, you may possess the world and its gold…”

Suddenly Helene joined in, and now the three of us were blaring out, “
but gold won’t bring you happiness when you’re growing old. The world still is the same, you’ll never change it. As sure as the stars shine above…you’re nobody till somebody loves you. So find yourself somebody to love.”

The image in my mind of the three of us singing and laughing together will be etched in my brain forever. Two sisters whose philosophies in life were at opposite extremes, and their mother, who was somewhere in the middle, were now connected by the thread of heartbreak. And we were making the best out of the cards we’d been dealt. In retrospect, we were actually flourishing.

The loss of my baby was still raw, the sadness gnawing at my gut twenty-four seven. But during these days of living with two additional roommates, I also found great solace in spending time with my daughter. There were only a handful of days left until school started, so I took advantage of Isabelle’s time off and did all kinds of fun kid things.

I found it easy to temporarily forget the heartbreak of not hearing from Preston while sitting close to my daughter, holding her tight, going twenty-five miles an hour down a mini-roller coaster at
Great America.
Examining giraffes at the
Lincoln Park Zoo,
holding her hand while she stuffed popcorn in her little mouth was a quick fix and a means to not think about my parents’ and my sister’s splits. And thoughts about what might have been, my second child, were somewhat easily put on the back burner while we walked through the
Harry Potter
exhibit at the
Museum of Science and Industry
.

Perhaps the best form of therapy for my delicate mental state were my daughter’s kisses and hugs and giggles, and the funny little comments that came out of her mouth. “Mom?” she said to me one day while she happened to catch me coming out of the shower and toweling off, “Why are your boobs so ugly?” I burst out laughing.

One night, she came over to me, put her hands on my hair and kissed my cheek.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

She looked at me with her big blue eyes and long eyelashes and answered, “You’re a good soul, Emma.”

With a child like mine, I was sure I could survive anything. I had to. She was my number one responsibility in life. Actually, she
was
my life. And she was the reason I was able to accept the loss of my baby and begin to move on. That being said, healing was certainly a process.

The Saturday before school started, Laura took her into the city for tea at
The American Girl Place.
As for Helene, she said she had some errands to run, and then she was going to the
Lexus
dealership to look at cars. Apparently, her lease was up in a couple weeks and she was deciding what car to get next. So here I was, home alone for the first time in a long, long time.

“Do something fun for yourself,” Laura told me before they left, “Go get a massage, or workout, or go shopping!” Although very appealing options, none of those things were how I chose to spend my afternoon. No more than ten minutes after all of them were gone, I made a phone call. I called the person who had been on my mind since that lovely day at the beach. I called Luke.

.

Chapter 18

“I
s this the hottest girl in Willow Ridge?” is how Luke answered his phone.

As I giggled, all I could think was, “if you think I’m hot, why aren’t we dating?”

“Are you up for a run?” I asked him.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

Luke hesitated for a moment and then said, “Sure, why not? Can I bring Lucky?”

“Of course.”

“Although,” he said with hesitation, “Is it going to rain?”

“Don’t be a wimp.”

“Fine.”

Not more than twenty minutes later I was on the neighborhood running path with Luke and his dog, jogging at a pretty good pace and loving the feeling of the very light misty rain that had just begun to come down. I felt as if my entire body was getting a facial, cleansing away all the dirt from my recent and not so recent past. Add to that, I was with Luke, who in the handful of times I’d been with, never failed to make me feel great. I felt contented, calm and safe, yet full of enthusiasm, almost bubbly.

“So, tell me something good,” Luke said.

What was good? Hmmm… Do I tell him my parents were on the outs and that my mom was living with me now? Do I share the fact that the same applied to my sister? Or, how about telling him that I’ve been avoiding my dad for weeks? Then there was the miscarriage. Do I tell him about that, and that the father is M.I.A? Would Luke enjoy hearing that? Tell me something good, he had said. What was good? I wondered. Then, it hit me.

“Isabelle,” I answered, “
She’s
good.”

This began a long conversation about children, both Luke and I sharing stories, bragging and joking about our kids, and offering each other advice about similar kid problems and issues.

It was fun to compare stories. As much as I enjoyed the conversations I had had with Preston, we never really talked about my child, and it took being with another single parent to make me realize how much of a void that left in the relationship. Being in the same shoes gave Luke and me a commonality, a bond that Preston and I would never share. That didn’t make Luke the right guy for me, or Preston the wrong guy for me by any means, it was just another connection I felt with Luke. He would understand me in a way Preston never could. And it made the pull to him even stronger.

A few minutes later, Luke’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked at caller-ID, and then ignored the call and put it back.

“Nothing important?” I asked, sensing almost with certainty it was a girl. And again, I seethed with jealousy.

Luke chuckled nervously. “Patty.”

“Oh.”

“You were right. She
does
think we’re more than friends.”

“But you’re really not?”

Luke looked at me. “No, we’re not. I swear! Friends. That’s it.”

“Friends.”

“Yes!”

“Like us?”

Luke abruptly stopped jogging. Lucky stopped too, and then so did I. Little raindrops began to take the place of the mist. He turned to me and said, “No, not like us. Emma, I really like you. Do you know that?”

I nodded slowly, but I really didn’t understand.

“You and I have a connection and I haven’t really been able to figure out exactly what it is.” He gave me a smile that stopped my heart and finished, “But it’s something.”

I was standing there speechless, rain now coming down in buckets.

“Do you agree, or is this all me?” he asked.

More silence on my part.

“Say something!” he exclaimed.

Suddenly I burst into tears. To my surprise, hearing Luke tell me he had feelings for me was overwhelming. Maybe I was crying because I was relieved that my attraction to him wasn’t one-sided, or maybe I was just happy. Whatever the reason, my feelings for Luke had just been validated, and that gave me a sense of pure relief. Add raging hormones, separated parents, a separated sister and a womanizer who’d just disappeared and it made sense that Luke’s tender admission was the final ingredient needed in the recipe for a major meltdown. Standing in the now pouring rain with Luke and his dog in the middle of a semi-remote jogging path, I was now sobbing, probably harder than I had in over a year.

“What is it?” Luke asked.

Lucky was trying to comfort me by licking my leg.

I kept on hysterically crying, unable to speak. Standing here with a man I didn’t know very well, who understood me and captivated me at the same time was almost too much to take. Being with Luke suddenly made sense, as if this was how things were supposed to happen, as if he was rescuing me. I suddenly realized that part of me had thought of Luke in this way since the first time I saw him standing over me and my bleeding knees.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, putting his arm around me, “I’m taking you to my house. Is that okay?”

I nodded and we walked to Luke’s. He had his arm around me the whole way there, but neither of us said a word the entire walk home.

When we got to his huge stone mansion I thought about the last time I’d been here. It was the day of my first date with Preston, and I didn’t stay very long that day, since I had to rush home to get ready for the man who I didn’t know at the time would impregnate me and then vanish into thin air when I lost his child.

Last time I’d been in Luke’s castle the world looked bright. I had no clue that I would soon be facing loss once again, this time the death of an unborn child. I also didn’t know my mother would be living with me. Now, being back at Luke’s again, I realized how quickly life can spiral out of control.

“Put these on,” he said, handing me a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring. He also gave me a towel. We were both soaked, and while I changed in the bathroom I could hear Luke talking to Lucky and toweling her off.

A couple minutes later I came out, sat cross-legged on the living room couch and waited for the main man who I assumed was upstairs changing his own clothes. I had calmed down significantly and was now just feeling exhausted from my meltdown, plus a little bit stupid for losing it like that in front of someone I had seen half a dozen times max in my life. Luke had just seen me unravel, and I wondered what he would think about the authentic Emma.

A minute later he appeared in the doorway and gave me a sympathy smile. He looked really cute, his hair wet, his University of Wisconsin sweatshirt old and torn, and his red nylon basketball shorts showing off his muscular thighs. This guy was the definition of adorable.

“Feel better?” he asked gently.

I nodded and said, “Thanks, Luke. Sorry for the meltdown. I have a lot going on.”

“Feel like telling me about it?” he said, sitting down next to me on the couch.

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

.

Chapter 19

“J
ust say it,” said Luke, his eyes looking right into mine.

My heart was pounding, my vulnerability so intense I wasn’t sure if I could handle it. But I wanted to. For the first time in so long, I wanted to really open up to someone. And in my heart, I felt this person was safe.

I never took my eyes off of Luke. My voice was soft, the words coming out slowly. “I had sex in a forest preserve and I got pregnant. And then I had a miscarriage.” I held my breath and waited for a response.

The look on Luke’s face was one of complete and utter shock. It was easy to see I had really flabbergasted him.

“Please don’t judge me,” I went on, “I’m not sure if I can handle that.”

“Who am I to judge anyone?” Luke said with a half smile, “I judge myself every time I look in the mirror.”

“Why?”

“Because look at my life. My wife dumped me… I’m a single dad… I’m sorry, aren’t we talking about
you?
”

“What’s wrong with being a single dad?”

“Well, the thing is, the more time that goes by, I realize maybe I wasn’t such a good husband.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I just think I could have acted better, maybe handled certain situations differently, been a little more thoughtful.”

“I think anyone could look back and see mistakes they made in a marriage. Don’t you?”

“I guess.”

“But you can’t change what you did or how you acted in the past. You just have to learn from it and try to be a better person moving forward.”

Luke smiled gently, and I realized right then that I should heed my own words.

“So, the young guy you’re dating. Was he the father?”