Authors: Meg Gray
Emma walked out of the dining room with
Luke and Brayden after another meal without Marcus when the front door flew
open. Marcus, slumped over and tired-looking, trudged in. His suit jacket was
in his hand, his sleeves rolled to the elbow. Brown smudges were painted on his
cheeks and pants.
“Hey man, we were just…” Luke said
before sensing his brother’s mood and Emma instinctively pulled Brayden close
to her.
Marcus looked right through them, his
eyelids at half-mast, and said, “I’m going to call it a day.” He walked up the
stairs and Emma and Luke exchanged worried looks.
Marcus’s mood hadn’t improved during the
week and Emma, along with everyone else in the house, was giving him a wide
berth. He was gone every morning before breakfast and home late, after dinner.
Brayden was quieter this week too. He
looked at his dad’s empty chair at every meal and Emma wished she could
reassure him, but she didn’t know what to say. Luke wasn’t much help either.
He’d gone as quiet as the rest of them. After breakfast one morning, Emma
stopped him before he went out the door to the office.
“Is everything okay with Marcus?” she’d
asked.
“Apparently not,” Luke had replied.
“Do you know what’s going on with him?
Have you talked to him?”
Luke flashed a grin. “We only talk about
work and as far as I can tell everything with the deal is going just fine. If
it’s something other than that, I wouldn’t know. This family’s not too good at
heart-to-hearts. We’re better at pretending nothing’s wrong. Don’t worry about
it, though, whatever it is he’ll get over it. Marcus is the strong one, he’ll
pull through.”
Luke’s words weren’t reassuring. She
would think of Marcus relaxed on the beach or holding her after the earthquake.
He was a strong man, but even strong men could break and she wanted to help,
but didn’t know how. Brayden was her first priority, she reminded herself, not
Marcus and so she tried to push him out of her mind.
Today, Emma and Brayden were silently
riding home from therapy in the backseat of the car when Brayden turned to her.
“Ms. Hewitt?”
“Yes?”
“Do I have a mom?”
This was one of the last things she
expected him to ask. “What makes you ask that?”
“We were drawing pictures of our family
today and when I shared mine Stephanie said I did it wrong, because it was just
me and Dad. She said I forgot my mom, but I didn’t think I had one. She called
me stupid and said everyone had a mommy.”
“Oh,” Emma said instantly disliking this
Stephanie-child. “What did Miss Linda say?”
“She asked me where my mommy was and I
said I didn’t know. Do you know where she is?”
Emma pressed her lips together thinking
of the best way to answer him, “I don’t sweetie, but this sounds like a good
question for your father. Have you ever asked him about your mom?”
He shook his head and looked out the
window. Emma caught Guillermo’s eyes in the rearview mirror and knew he had
overheard the whole conversation. He gently shook his head and took the exit
off the interstate. Emma thought the subject dropped until Brayden looked up at
her and asked, “Will you be my mother, Ms. Hewitt?”
Emma’s heart broke into a million
pieces. She reached an arm over and encircled Brayden’s shoulder. “I will
always be your friend, Brayden. No matter what, I will always be here for you.
You can count on that, okay?” He nodded and she squeezed his shoulder, knowing
she had tied herself to this little boy forever.
Marcus drifted through the week, talking
to clients, and barking orders to the associates. He was letting Vanessa go all
over again. Submerged in his grief he felt his anger ebb and flow. He tried to
let it go, he’d been angry long enough, in the end it was Vanessa who paid the
ultimate price. He still had his life ahead of him and Brayden to think about,
but it was hard to release the anger he’d been carrying around for so long.
The weekend arrived. On Saturday
morning, he went down to the kitchen and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. Maricella
busied herself with the tray of scones she’d pulled from the oven and avoided
looking at him. He realized everyone in the house had been doing that, ignoring
him, giving him space. He didn’t blame them. He had been alone with his grief
all week, they had all noticed, even Brayden. Carrying his cup to the outdoor patio,
he hopped up on the stone countertop and thought of his son.
Brayden was quiet this week. He hadn’t
awakened from any nightmares, but he was sleeping restlessly. Marcus had the
bruises from his son’s violent kicks during the night to prove it. He needed to
pull it together. He needed to release the hold Vanessa had taken on his life
and start focusing on his son. Today was a good day to start
“Hey, big brother.” Luke paused in the
doorway holding his own cup of coffee. He’d had a haircut and Marcus was
acutely reminded of his parents’ imminent return next week.
“Hey,” Marcus replied.
Luke shuffled over, his bare feet
scraping against the stamped concrete, and handed his coffee cup to Marcus
while he hoisted himself up on the counter too. Luke took his cup back from
Marcus and they sat in silence drinking their coffee.
“I went and saw her,” Marcus finally
said.
“Where?” Luke asked automatically
knowing the “she” he was talking about.
“At the cemetery.”
“Is she…” Luke wavered.
“Yep, she’s dead.” Marcus said it like
it was everyday news.
“Jesus,” Luke said. “I’m sorry. You doing
okay with it?”
Marcus smiled at the irony of the
question. Anyone around him this week would know how he was doing with it.
“Yeah, I’m getting there.”
Silence swept over them again and
finally Marcus cleared his throat.
“So, how’s Brayden doing?” he asked his
brother.
“He’s been quiet,” Luke said. “And he
asked Emma to be his mom.”
Marcus’s head snapped up and he turned
to his brother. “He did what? When was this?”
Luke shrugged. “A couple of days ago, I
guess.” He brought his cup to his mouth and took a drink.
“What’d she say?” Marcus was almost
afraid to ask.
“She told him she would be his friend
forever and ever or something like that.”
“How come nobody told me about this?”
Marcus was gruff, on the verge of anger, but then Luke shot him a sideways glance
and Marcus knew he was the one asking the ironic question this time.
“She’s great, isn’t she?” Marcus said
not expecting an answer.
“Who Emma?”
Marcus nodded.
“Yeah,” Luke said. “She’s pretty cool.”
“So, are things heating up with the two
of you?”
“With me and Emma?” Luke asked and
laughed. “No. She’s great, but far too serious for me. A little too much of the
long-term type. But, it’s been cool to hang out with her.” Luke broke out in a
wide grin as he raised his cup to his lips, “I bet she’d look good naked,
though.” Luke cocked his head to one side before sipping his coffee again.
Marcus’s thoughts immediately turned to
finding Emma the morning of the earthquake.
“She does,” he said without thinking and
then startled realizing what he’d just said.
“You’ve seen her naked?” Luke asked
slowly, making sure he’d heard his brother correctly.
Marcus just nodded.
“You do know how to shock a guy, big
brother. So, is there something going on with you and the… the nanny?” Luke was
fully alert and awaiting his answer.
“She’s not the nanny,” Marcus snapped. “She
is Brayden’s teacher and no, there is nothing going on between us. It was an
accident.”
“What, you just accidentally were
peeping through her window or something?”
“No, it was the morning of the
earthquake. She’d just gotten out of the shower or something and, well she
didn’t have any clothes on when I went down to check on her. It was nothing, I
barely even looked.”
“Aaha, I knew something was going on
with you two that morning. You should ask her out. It’d be good for you, bring
her to Mom and Dad’s Welcome Home Party or something. C’mon, she’s perfect for
you,” Luke prodded.
“I’m not taking my son’s teacher out on
a date,” Marcus said pointblank.
“Why not, I am.” Luke was all smiles as
he cocked his head again. “We’re going dancing tonight.”
Marcus didn’t look at his brother and
hopped to the ground.
“Well, you two have fun then,” he said
and hoped Luke couldn’t detect his envy.
The sky was blue and cloudless, the kind
of day Emma used to love to drive Old Bessy around the country roads near her
family’s farm—windows down, the wind whipping through her hair.
Emma cracked the backseat window,
letting her fingers touch the cool morning air and tease her hair. She caught
Guillermo watching her and was about to close the window when she saw his eyes
crinkle with a smile. She watched the choppy waters of Lake Washington as the
car zipped across the bridge toward the house on Mercer Island. She had hitched
a ride into town with Guillermo. While he had the car serviced, she journeyed
through the local farmers market.
She unrolled the top of her paper bag
and peeked at the peaches inside. They smelled divine, reminding her of Orchard
Creek. The farmers market had been bursting with fresh produce this morning.
She walked past each booth denying herself the pleasure of filling her arms
with their bounty, but when she walked past the stand offering the latest
harvest of peaches, she could no longer resist the temptation and bought five
pounds.
This past week had been difficult with
Marcus so far out of reach and Brayden’s questions about his mother. She’d been
looking for something to bring her comfort and these peaches would do nicely. And
so would Seth.
He was driving up to Seattle tonight and
they made plans to have lunch together tomorrow. She was looking forward to it,
way more than dancing tonight with Luke. Club dancing wasn’t her thing, but at
least it was something to do, right?
Emma was still trying to convince
herself that going to a club with Luke was better than sitting in front of the
TV alone when she disappeared into her room after dinner. She showered and
dressed in the eggplant sheath dress Stacy insisted she bring.
“I’m not packing that,” she’d told Stacy
when she pulled it from her closet.
“Of course you are,” she said, throwing
it on the bed.
“Where am I going to wear that? To the
park with Brayden?”
“You never know who you might meet up
there. You have nights and weekends off, don’t you? Or maybe you could just
wear it around the house when Mr. Hot-Lawyer Dad is there?” Stacy fell onto the
bed striking a ridiculous Victoria Secret model pose.
“Yeah right,” Emma said, picking the
dress up and taking it back to the closet.
Stacy jumped up behind her and grabbed
it out of her hands folding it carefully. “Come on, just throw it in. It’ll
take up all of two square inches. If you wear it, then you can thank me, if you
don’t then it will hang in a closet up there instead of down here.” Stacy set
the dress inside the suitcase smoothing out the wrinkles before pulling the
zipper closed.
Emma meant to take it out before leaving
the next morning, but forgot and now she was silently thanking Stacy for
throwing it in. Otherwise, she would be combing her closet for something to
wear. Rubbing in the last of her creamy coconut lotion, she walked up the
stairs. She waited for Luke in the foyer, but when he didn’t appear she walked
around the rest of the floor looking for him. There were no signs of him.
Upstairs she thought she heard him holler and started up.
At the top of the steps through the open
doorway of the game room, she saw Luke sitting on the floor leaning against the
couch with a game controller in his hand. Brayden was right next to him. They
were playing a video game together.
“Wow, you look nice,” he said when she
walked in. “Doesn’t she look nice Marcus?”
Marcus sat at the end of the couch, his
ankles crossed and an open file on his lap. He had looked up as soon as she
walked in too and his eyes hadn’t left her yet. “Yes. You look very nice Ms.
Hewitt,” he said and finally turned back to his work.
Luke was engrossed in his game again and
Emma grew uncomfortable as she waited for him. “Are you, um…Are you ready to
go?”
There was a break in the game and he
looked at her. “No, I, uh,” he coughed into his fist. “I’m not feeling too good
tonight. I think I’d better stay in.” The game began again and pulled his
attention away from her.
Emma felt deflated. Luke didn’t look
very sick, he seemed just fine at dinner and now, playing a video game with
Brayden, he seemed to have plenty of energy. Suddenly, Emma felt about two
inches tall, he was rejecting her, he didn’t want to go dancing with her and
now here she stood all dressed up, being dumped publicly.
“Okay,” she said turning away slowly.
“Marcus will take you,” Luke said, still
watching the screen and punching buttons on the controller with his thumbs.
Emma turned back around and saw Marcus
glare at the back of his brother’s head. His mouth was pressed into a straight
line.
Great,
Emma thought,
neither one of them wants to spend time
with me. How humiliating.
“No,” she said. “He obviously has work
to do. I’ll just go back to my room. It’s…it’s fine.”
“Give me five minutes,” Marcus said,
closing the file and getting to his feet. He didn’t look happy, but she wasn’t
about to make a scene. He walked past her and reached his bedroom door at the
end of the hall. Luke and Brayden were still glued to their game.
“I’ll just wait downstairs,” she said to
no one in particular and turned toward the stairs missing the fist bump
exchanged between Luke and Brayden.
* * *
Marcus punched his arms through the
sleeves of his black silk shirt. He twisted the buttons through the holes with
force, all the while cursing his brother. His thoughtless, reckless brother was
bowing out of a date with Emma after she’d gotten all dressed and looked exquisite.
Her hair pulled up like that showed off her long swan-like neck and her
beautiful amber eyes sparkled against the deep purple of her dress. She had
looked so disappointed when Luke literally coughed up his lame excuse about
being sick.
He continued to dress with haste,
tugging on his pants and shoes.
Dancing,
he thought. The last time he
went dancing was back in college and even then, he hadn’t liked it very much.
If he had planned a date with Emma he’d be taking her to one of the five star
restaurants in the city, where they could talk over a candle-light dinner for
two and drink champagne, not go into a place with hundreds of other sweat
drenched, drunk people.
Stopping at the top of the stairs, he
turned to look at his brother. “You owe me,” he said, pointing a finger at him.
“Yeah, or maybe you’ll owe me,” Luke
smiled.
Whatever that means
,
Marcus thought.
He looked at Brayden. “Be good for your
Uncle Luke. Maybe you can teach him a thing or two about manners while I’m
gone.” Brayden looked from his father to his uncle obviously confused. “And
don’t stay up too late, okay?”
“Okay,” Brayden replied and Marcus
jogged down the stairs. Emma waited for him in the dim light of the foyer.
“Ready to go?” he asked and she nodded.
They parked downtown and walked to a
nearby dance club. The line was long, already wrapping around the corner and
Marcus and Emma stepped into the queue. They were surrounded by the heavy
excitement of young college kids. Marcus tried not to notice that some of them
were almost half his age. When had he become so old? Some of the kids couldn’t
be more than eighteen years old and he wondered how many of them were holding
fake ids. He noticed Emma scanning the crowd too.
“So,” he said. “Do you go out dancing
much in Portland?”
“No,” she replied. “Not really. I’ve
gone to a couple of clubs with friends, but it’s not really my thing.”
“It’s not mine either,” he said and
tilted his head sideways toward her. “So, what are we doing here?”
She smiled and shrugged.
“Would you be disappointed if we went
somewhere else?”
“Not at all,” she said, looking as
relieved as he felt and followed him out of line.
It felt like they were swimming upstream
against the crowds of people walking down the sidewalk toward the action.
Marcus reached for Emma’s hand and she took it so they wouldn’t get separated
in the mob. At the next crosswalk, they dashed across the street and down to
the waterfront.
They walked across the wood decking and
Marcus dropped Emma’s hand as he leaned over the curved railing, looking out
over the dark waters. As soon as he let go of her hand he wanted to reach for
it again, to feel the warmth of her skin. Emma turned around and leaned with
her back against the railing. The nighttime breeze gently blew the loose
tendrils of hair around her face.
“The city lights are beautiful,” she
said.
“They sure are,” he agreed and turned
around to look at the lights with her. The sound of the water below slapping
against the pilings filled the silence that followed between them. Couples
passed by holding hands and smiling at one another.
Marcus looked down and shuffled his
feet. “I owe you an apology for this past week. I understand Brayden was asking
questions about his mother and I’m sorry to have put you in that position.”
“There’s nothing to apologize to me
for,” Emma said. “Brayden’s the one who needed to talk to you.” Her voice was
small and calm. Marcus looked away from her.
“I’ve been busy,” he said, snapping his
head back in her direction and stating his defense. “The earthquake put us
behind and I’m trying to wrap up this deal for my dad. It’s my job.”
“I understand,” Emma said.
Marcus took a deep breath. “I know I
need to talk to him, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Not talking about it hurts too.”
“You’re right. It’s just so complicated.
I guess I don’t know what to say.”
“Keep it simple and keep it honest.
Brayden is way too smart for you to…” Marcus looked at her. She’d just called
Brayden smart, no one had ever called him that.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Listen to me
giving out unsolicited advice. You’re his father and I’m sure the two of you
will figure it out.”
“No, I appreciate your advice. You’re
right the complications with his mother revolve around me, not him. He deserves
to know the truth, even if it won’t be easy.” Marcus clasped his hands together
thinking about how long he’d put this conversation off with Brayden.
“Sometimes the right thing to do isn’t
always the easy thing,” Emma said with a shrug. “But don’t worry about it too
much, he adores you.”
“That’s incredibly kind of you to say,”
he replied, feeling self-conscious.
“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,”
she said, nudging him with her elbow and the mood between them lightened
dramatically.
“Come on,” he said, stepping from the
railing. “I’ll show you some of the best views of the city.” Emma fell into
step beside him. They followed the railing and passed a thick bearded man, with
baggy clothes tucked in the shadows against a concrete wall strumming on his
guitar. He sang,
Hotel California
, his guitar case open next to him and
sprinkled with change.
They climbed the stairs of a metal
viewing stand. At the top, they looked out on the city skyline. Against the
darkening sky, Marcus pointed out the silhouetted landforms that created Blake
and Bainbridge Islands. More viewers climbed the stairs and Marcus and Emma
made room for them by going back down the stairs. At the bottom, a crowd had
started to gather around the guitarist and a few couples were dancing to the
man’s rendition of Eric Clapton’s
Layla
. Marcus reached for Emma’s hand
at the last step and guided her to an empty space on the pier.
“What do you say we get at least one
dance in tonight?” He slipped his arm around Emma’s waist and she rested her
arm on his shoulder.
“Okay, but I have to warn you. I’m not
the most coordinated person in the world.”
“I know,” he said, resisting the urge to
pull her body against his.
She leaned her head back, studying him.
“I saw you that day in the club in your
aerobics class,” he admitted.
Her beautiful golden eyes popped, “What
do you mean you saw me?”
“From the machine I was on,” he replied
a little embarrassed. “I could see into the class and I didn’t know it was you,
but your pink shirt caught my attention. You looked like you were holding your
own, though.”
“I’ll have you know, that was the first
Zumba class I ever took. It’s a lot harder than it looks,” she said,
defensiveness mounting in her voice.
“Well, I also have it on good authority
that you do a mean chicken-wing flapping dance too. That, I think I would like
to see.”
“That’s for privileged audiences only,”
she told him, smiling.
He pushed her away from him in an
underarm turn and then pulled her in again, a little closer this time. “Well,
maybe we can talk Brayden into a solo performance then.”
“Brayden does the chicken dance?” she
asked, pulling back again to look him in the eye and he nodded.