Listed: Volume VI (6 page)

To
his surprise, he actually liked it. Spending more time in the office allowed
him to get to know his coworkers better. At first, they’d seemed rather
suspicious, likely thinking he was entitled and useless, but they warmed up
pretty quickly as he went out of his way to be both accommodating and
efficient.

After
the first week, he had a pretty good sense of what work life might be for him,
doing work he enjoyed, work he was good at, for the company his mother’s family
had built. He liked the idea of it.

He
could spend his life doing this.

He
got home late on Friday evening, and he found Emily in the kitchen. He wasn’t
sure how long she’d been fixing dinner, but every single counter surface was a
mess, and she appeared to have used every bowl and pan they possessed.

“I
think I was too ambitious,” she told him with a grin.

“What
is it?” He studied the bowls and pans, trying to puzzle out what meal they
added up into.

“Portobello
Chicken Piccata. But we didn’t have all the ingredients, so I had to improvise
a bit.”

He
laughed and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing his body into her
back as she pushed chicken breasts around in a pan.

She
turned down the temperature on the eye and then turned around to wrap her arms
around him. “How was work?”

“Good.”

“Did
you get that report done? “

“Yeah.
What did Dr. Franklin say?” She had a faint dusting of flour on her jaw so he
gently brushed it off.

She
frowned up at him. “I told you in the text I sent. Everything is still fine.
The virus is gone, so you don’t have to stress about every check-up that way.”

Paul
was pretty sure he was going to be anxious every time she went to the doctor,
for at least a decade or so, but he’d have to work on hiding it better so she
wouldn’t get annoyed by it. “I was just wondering if he said anything else.”

“He
said he was going to publish on this virus, and it would be the best work of
his career.” After he laughed, she added, “He said I would probably be fertile
again soon, so he prescribed me birth control pills.”

“Ah.
Good thinking.”

They
smiled at each other for a minute, and he tried to process the relief, joy, and
awed gratitude. It made him feel kind of silly—like the kind of sap he’d never
been—but there was no other way to handle the miracle that had been given him.

Emily
must feel the same way. She actually looked a little emotional, but naturally
tried to hide it. “I never thought it would happen. Any of this. It gives me
hope that everything that is broken has the chance of being fixed. I never
thought it could happen.”

“Me
either.”

Her
expression changed then. “I’ve been thinking.”

“What
about?”

“I
want to ask you something, and I don’t know how you’re going to feel about it.”

He
gaped at her. “What are you talking about? Ask me anything you want. I’ll do
anything you want.”

Her
face softened with affection momentarily before she pulled it together. “How
would you feel about having another wedding ceremony. Kind of like a renewal of
our vows.”

“It
hasn’t even been a year.” While he was fully prepared to give Emily anything in
the world she wanted, this was the last thing he expected, and he wasn’t sure
he liked the idea about it. “Our marriage was always real, Emily. It’s not like
we had a fake wedding the first time. I don’t think we need to act like we’re
just now married for real.”

“I
know it was real. I wouldn’t change our first wedding for anything. But I just
wanted to have a wedding in the neighborhood. It’s fine if you don’t want to.
It was just an idea.”

He
drew his eyebrows together. “Why did you want to do it?”

She
shrugged and looked a little embarrassed.

“Tell
me.”

“You
remember right after we got engaged, and you told me you didn’t think it was
good that I was pulling away from everyone. All my friends and stuff.”

“Yeah.
But that was understandable. People react in different ways to grief.”

“I
know. But you were right. It wasn’t healthy. I feel like I’ve been living in
this…I don’t know…this bubble or something because I didn’t want to let anyone
in. Anyone but you.”

He
reflected on this for a moment and realized she was right. He also realized
that he kind of liked the bubble since it meant that he was the only important
person in her life.

It
wasn’t good for her, though, so he wasn’t about to indulge the feeling.

“I
can see what you mean. So you think having another wedding ceremony would help
with that?”

“Yeah.
I could invite everyone I know from the neighborhood. And Stacie and her mom
could be there. I just think it would make me feel like this marriage is part
of my real life. The life I’m going to be living for a long time now. Is that
okay? I didn’t mean to imply that our marriage was ever fake or that what we
have wasn’t real all the time.  I just—”

“Emily,”
he interrupted. “I get it. I really do. I’m happy to have another wedding.” He
leaned down to kiss her. “I’d marry you every day for the rest of my life, if I
could.”

She
kissed him back, hugging him tightly. Then she said, her voice muffled by his
shirt. “For a notorious bad boy, you’re really kind of sappy, you know.”

“I
thought I was a geek.”

“You’re
a sappy, bad-boy geek.”

He
huffed with amusement. “Just don’t tell anyone else.”

So,
a month later, they had another wedding ceremony in a church in the
neighborhood. Paul had to admit it ended up being a good idea after all.

***

Paul wondered if the
idea of Emily's being interested in sex again that evening was overly
optimistic.

Probably.

This
morning, Emily had been sore and exhausted and hadn't wanted to get up, and
she’d teasingly told him that she’d been happy to indulge his primal nature the
night before but he shouldn’t expect caveman sex again any time soon.

Paul
had drawled that he’d be happy to indulge
her
primal nature whenever and
as often as she wanted. She’d laughed fondly, but then she’d winced as she’d
gotten out of bed.

It
wasn’t really that long ago—less than six months—when he’d been absolutely
convinced Emily was too young to think about sexually. She'd been completely
off-limits to him, forbidden.

Many
things had changed in these last few months.

They’d
had rough, wild sex the night before. He supposed he shouldn’t hope that she
would want to have sex again tonight. Just thinking about her was getting his
body excited.

He
glanced at his watch and saw it was after nine o’clock. Emily would probably be
home soon from her dinner with Stacie.

He
felt bored and restless and hoped she’d get home soon.

But
he forced himself to focus on the email message on his computer screen and managed
to type out a reply. Then he made himself focus on the next email.

“Are
you
ever
going to stop working?” a lilting voice demanded from the doorway
of his office.

He
whirled around in his desk chair, his spirits brightening immediately at the
sight of Emily’s casual prettiness and her deep frown. “You’re the one who
abandoned me all day to go to class and then have dinner with Stacie.”

“And
I’ve been back a full fifteen minutes, and you didn’t bother to emerge from
your cave.”

He
couldn’t help but smile at her grumpy tone. “Why didn’t you tell me you were
home?” He got up and walked over to greet her.

“I
was on the phone.” She returned his smile and was still smiling when she
grabbed his shirt with both hands and pulled him into a light kiss.

“Anything
important?”

“Chris.
He’s dating someone seriously, and he wants us all the have dinner together.”

“Oh.
Okay.”

“Is
that all right?”

“Of
course,” he said. “You know I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

She
curled up her lip. “Anything except let me stop getting tested for the virus
every week.”

Paul
narrowed his eyes at the abrupt shift in topic. “Do we really have to fight
about that again tonight?”

“No,”
she said, smiling again. “Not tonight. But it would make me very happy if you’d
stop working for the night and come hang out with me.”

Paul
chuckled. She didn’t have to know he’d already intended to do just that. “For
you, I’ll make that sacrifice.”

They
went to the media room to watch television, after making a stop in the kitchen
because Emily wanted some ice cream. When they’d settled on the couch, Emily
picked up their previous conversation. “So you’re really okay with the four of
us having dinner?”

“Yes,”
he told her, meeting her eyes so she’d know he was sincere. “He’s a decent
guy.  I don’t mind at all.”

 “Okay.
Good. Thanks.” She gave a conclusive nod—a clear sign that this part of the
conversation was done. She took another spoonful of her ice cream and, when she
saw him watching, she asked, “You want some?”

“No.
I’m good. How was class?”

“Fine.
Kind of boring.” She made a face, staring at the television screen. “Biology
isn’t what you would call the most interesting thing in the world.”

“It’ll
be required at any university you want to attend.”

“I
know that,” she said with a sneer. “That’s why I’m taking it first thing.”

This
semester, Emily was taking a couple of classes at a local university, just to
ease the transition into college full time.

Paul
had told her many times that she could go to any school she wanted. She wasn’t
limited to one in Philadelphia just because she was married to him. They could
make it work wherever she wanted to go.

“And
don’t think I don’t notice you trying to pick another fight.”

“I’m
not trying to pick a fight,” he objected, turning to her in surprise. “And when
did I try to pick one before?”

“First,”
she began, counting off items on her fingers, a move that was somewhat hampered
by the spoon in her hand. “You tried to pick a fight about my getting tested
for that damned virus every other day for the rest of my life.”

Paul
stiffened in outrage. “
You
were the one who brought that up, and it’s
not every other—”

“And
second,” she cut in, blithely ignoring all of his facts, reason, and fair
corrections. “And
second
, you tried to pick a fight about my going to
some other college, when I’ve told you over and over that, of course, I’m going
to a school here in Philadelphia. Like I’m going to live in a different city
from my husband if I don’t have to.”

He
relaxed back against the sofa and smiled at her, feeling inordinately fond
despite the woeful injustice of her earlier claims. “I just want you to know
that you can, if you want.”

“I
know that, but I don’t want.” She scowled at him until she couldn’t hold the
expression any longer and broke into a smile instead.

“I
know it makes it awkward for you here,” he murmured. “That everyone knows who
you are because of all the stories in the news, that you can’t feel like a
normal student.”

She
shrugged. “I’m not a normal student. I mean, I just don’t feel like the rest of
them. I feel ancient or something.” She sighed and stared down at her ice
cream. “I’m the same age or younger as everyone else in my classes, but I still
feel…I don’t know.”

He
understood exactly what she meant, and he understood why. What she’d lived
through in the last months had changed her, and there was no going back from
that.

He
wasn’t the same either. A lot of his friends were still playing video games
until late at night and getting drunk every weekend. He felt miles away from
all that now.

He
wanted to encourage her, so he said, “Give it a little time. You’ll start to
feel more yourself eventually.”

She
shook her head and slanted him a different kind of smile. “I feel like myself.
Just like I’ve been through a war. Plus, most girls my age aren’t married to
such a demanding, unreasonable man who constantly tries to spoil my fun.”

He
chuckled. “That’s their loss.”

Her
expression changed again, softened. She leaned into him until she was sprawled
against his chest. “It certainly is their loss.”

He
put his arms around her and held her against him. She felt clingier than normal
somehow. “You all right, baby?” he asked, after a few minutes.

“Yeah.
I’m good.” Her cheek rested against his chest, which rose and fell with his
breathing.

“I
mean it, Emily,” he murmured. “It won’t take you long to feel like you fit in
at college. It won't matter who you're married to. People always like you…if
you let them.”