Emerson's Fury : L.B. Pavlov (8 page)

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c h a p t e r    s i x

Saturday morning when I woke up, I was giddy. I had never been so excited about a birthday before in my life, and it wasn’t even my own. It was Cross’s birthday today. I was so excited to take him out for dinner and to give him his gift. I asked him to come over early, because my parents had a gift for him as well. My parents really liked Cross a lot, and I was so happy about that.

My mom and I went for a long run together. I loved running with her. We would talk and laugh, and the time would pass quickly. Whenever I watched a video tape of myself running, I would smile because my form was identical to my mother’s form. It was like watching her run.

“Are you excited for Cross’s birthday tonight?” she asked, still a little breathless from our brisk pace right off the start.

“Yes! I can’t wait to give him his letterman’s jacket. You don’t think it’s too much, do you?” I asked, suddenly wondering if the gift was OK.

“Emerson, I think it was very thoughtful of you to get it for him. He should have one. He is a tremendous athlete, and it will be a nice keepsake for him. As long as you give from the heart, you will never go wrong,” she said confidently.

Charlotte Hollingsworth was always the voice of reason. I was so much more extreme than my mother was when it came to emotions. I was high, low,
excited, insecure, but my mother was like a steady engine that never wavered. I loved that about her, and I trusted her opinion immensely.

“OK! You’re right. I’m so excited!” I said, laughing. “What did you and Dad get him?” I inquired.

“Dad wanted to get him a Colts jersey because he noticed that he didn’t have one at the games. He actually got one for Cross and his grandfather,” she said, smiling at the gesture, “and I had a special cake made for him at the bakery.”

My mom owned a bakery right up the street from our home. She and Lammie ran it together, and I loved hanging out there. Her cakes were the absolute best. He would love it.

“Oh, Mom, that was so sweet. He will love it!” I said proudly.

“Have you met Cross’s mother or father? I know he lives with his grandparents, but does he see his parents?” my mom inquired.

“His father died before he was born. And his mother…don’t get me started,” I said angrily.

“Emerson, she is his mother,” my mom said, still breathing heavily.

“Trust me, Mom, this is not a ‘mother.’ This woman is awful. I met her once. She is a drug addict and an alcoholic. She gets Cross to fight so she can take the money. She tells him that she needs the money to pay bills and to stay clean, but I think she’s still using. I think she is using her son to feed her addiction,” I said coldly.

“Oh my gosh, that’s awful. Cross is such a nice young man. I’m very sad that he has a mother who treats him that way. Thank goodness for his grandparents. What do they say about it?” she asked, concern in her voice.

“They don’t really know that he sees her much. They have cut her out of their lives, and I imagine it is because she did the same thing to them at one time. They don’t know that Cross fights and gives her money,” I said sadly. “But he isn’t fighting much anymore, and I hope he stops completely.”

“He shouldn’t be doing that to himself. Do you think he will go to Notre Dame to play football?” she asked hopefully.

“I hope so,” I said quietly.

I hadn’t thought about next year that much yet. The realization that Cross and I wouldn’t be at the same school had just dawned on me. We would still live relatively close though, and we could see each other often. I couldn’t imagine being separated from him now. We spent a lot of time together, and I loved it.

“Do you think you two will keep seeing one another?” she asked.

“I sure hope so. I’ve never felt this way about anyone,” I said quietly.

My mom turned to look at me while we were running. “Do you love him?” she asked.

“I do,” I said sincerely.

“Oh, Emerson, you have never been in love before. Have you told him?” she asked, a little misty-eyed.

“No. Because what if he doesn’t feel the same?” I asked nervously.

My mom laughed. “Sweetie, there is no doubt that he loves you. You can see it in his eyes when he looks at you.”

“Really?” I said, and I felt my cheeks get hot just at the thought.

We finished our run, and I went to shower. Cross would be on his way over soon, and I wanted to get dressed up and do my hair.

The doorbell rang, and I heard Finn talking to Cross. He was actually bellowing out “Happy Birthday,” and he definitely didn’t have Indy’s singing voice. I started laughing, and I ran out to give Cross a birthday hug. He looked stunned when I came around the corner.

“Wow. You look amazing,” he said, gazing at me with his beautiful blue eyes.

“So do you!” I said. He was wearing black dress slacks with a black button-up dress shirt. I had chosen a black, strapless, A-line dress with a knee-length hemline. I had never worn heels around him, so I think it surprised him to see me this dressed up.

I jumped in his arms and yelled, “Happy birthday!” He was laughing as we walked into the kitchen. My parents were there, and they both wished him happy birthday lit some candles on the cake. The cake my mom had made was so pretty, and Cross looked so surprised by the sentiment.

“Now, I know you two are going out for dinner, but you can blow your candles out now and eat the cake later when you’re done with dinner,” my mom said, smiling.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Hollingsworth,” he said and hugged her.

“You really have to stop calling me that, Cross. Please call me Charlotte,” she said sweetly.

My dad handed him the gift-wrapped box. Cross was stunned that my parents had gotten him a gift. He unwrapped the package and was speechless when he opened the box.

“There’s one for you and one for your grandfather,” my dad said proudly.

“I don’t know what to say. This is beyond generous. Thank you so much, sir,” Cross said, and for a moment it looked like his eyes were watery. He was truly touched by the present.

“It’s our pleasure, Cross. Happy birthday,” my dad said, smiling.

Finn turned to Cross. “I gave you your gift last night, right?” he said, laughing. “When I let you have the state title?”

We all burst out laughing. “Oh yeah, thanks so much!” Cross said, still laughing, and hugged Finn.

We left for the restaurant, and I knew that I needed to make it clear that I was paying for dinner because Cross never let me pay for anything when we went out. I knew he didn’t have a lot of money, and so we didn’t go out for expensive meals, but that night was special.

“So, I am paying for dinner for your birthday. If you try to pay, you will offend me,” I said, getting it out in the open.

“Emerson, I don’t like you paying for me. I like to pay for our dates.”

“I understand that, but tonight is your birthday. Please let me do this for you. Please?” I said, almost pleading.

“You are very difficult to say no to, do you know that?” he said, laughing.

“OK, good. It’s settled. Thank you,” I said happily.

“You look really beautiful tonight. I’ve never seen your hair curled before,” he said, smiling at me.

“Well, it’s my boyfriend’s birthday, so I thought I should fix it up a little,” I teased.

“Oh, really? Is that so? Well, your boyfriend thinks you are very beautiful. Today and every day,” he said sweetly. My heart fluttered from the way he looked at me.

We pulled in to the valet, and I grabbed my package, which was already in the back of the car before we left.

“What’s that?” he asked apprehensively.

“It’s your birthday present,” I said, smiling.

“I’ve never gotten so many presents in my life,” he said, coming around to open my car door.

We walked into the restaurant and were seated immediately at our table. It was a gorgeous restaurant; my family went there a couple of times a year. It was my favorite restaurant, and I hoped he liked it too. We looked over the menu, and I told him all the things that I had ordered in the past and how good the food was. We both ordered, and I handed him his gift.

He smiled at me. “You shouldn’t have gotten me anything. Dinner is already too much,” he said anxiously.

“Open it,” I insisted excitedly.

When he opened the box, he stared in disbelief. It was almost too long of a pause, and it made me nervous.

“I can’t believe you did this. How did you get the patches? This is incredible. I am at a loss, honestly,” he said quietly.

“But you like it?” I asked nervously.

He looked up from the box, and his eyes were definitely watery, no question about it. “I have never received a gift like this in my life, Emerson. I don’t know what to say. I love it. I can’t believe you did this.” He was clearly beside himself. I could tell that Cross was not used to receiving gifts, and that made me sad. I wondered what his birthdays were like before we were together. I wondered if his mother was ever there for his birthdays. I wondered if he had birthday parties as a little boy. But I couldn’t ask. He seemed very emotional about the gift, and I didn’t want to make him feel bad.

“I’m so happy that you like it,” I said instead, grasping his hand.

“It’s overwhelming. You really put thought into this. It means a lot to me,” he replied, his eyes wet and intense.

“I love you, Cross. With all my heart, I love you,” I said, and as the words came out, I was a little embarrassed that I said it first.

“I love you. I have since the first time I met you,” he said, and I was overcome with emotion (one of them relief that he felt the same way). I just started crying for no reason at all. I was not normally the kind of girl who fell apart like that; it was so wimpy of me. But I couldn’t stop.

“Those are happy tears, right?” he asked nervously, and I started to laugh.

“Very happy tears,” I said, staring into those deep-blue eyes.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I didn’t know if I should,” he confessed.

“Why?” I asked, completely confused.

“Because I think you can do better than me. I don’t want to be selfish,” he said, and by the intensity in his eyes, I could tell that he meant it.

“I could never do better than you,” I breathily replied. “You are an incredible person, and I am lucky to call you my boyfriend,” I said contentedly, and he smiled.

Our food came, and for a while, we were both engrossed in our steaks. He couldn’t get over how good it was, and I loved watching him enjoy himself. After we both slowed down, he went on and on about the letterman coat and the gift and cake from my parents.

“Your parents are pretty amazing,” he said, continuing to devour his steak as we talked.

“They really are,” I agreed proudly.

“Did they meet in college?” he asked.

I filled him in that my parents had known each other most of their lives and fell in love in high school. They really did have an incredible love story, and he enjoyed hearing about it.

“My mom means everything to my dad. He almost lost her once, and it has haunted him for years,” I said, and I was surprised that I had just shared that, because I had never told anyone about my dad’s nightmares.

“What do you mean? What happened?” he inquired sincerely.

“Well, I don’t know all the details. But every year around Indy’s birthday, my dad has nightmares. Sometimes he has one, and other times it goes on for several nights. He yells out in his sleep, and it’s as if he is reliving something awful. My mom always tells us to go back to sleep, and she calms him down. But it’s sad to see how upset he gets. It used to scare me when I was young, but now I know that come mid-May, it has a good chance of happening. And then it just stops for the rest of the year, as far as I know,” I said sadly.

“Oh my gosh, that’s awful. What happened at Indy’s birthday? Why does it happen then?” he asked with concern in his voice.

“I don’t really know the specifics. When my mom was pregnant with Indy, someone took her,” I said, and he was stunned and didn’t understand what I had said.

“Took her? Like kidnapped her?” he asked. He had stopped eating; this was obviously very upsetting.

“I think so. They don’t like to talk about it. I just know that some men held her at some warehouse or something. They beat her up and left her on the floor. She went into labor with Indy, and they both almost died,” I said, and now my voice was shaking. I realized that I had never talked about it with anyone but my brothers. My parents avoided talking about it, and so they had just told me the basics to help me understand Dad’s nightmares at that time of year.

“Holy shit, Emerson. That’s crazy. Why did they take her? Did she know the men?” he asked, and he was clearly horrified for my mother.

“I’m not completely sure. I know my dad had just been drafted the year before, so I think it was for money. She didn’t know them all, but one of the guys they went to high school with. I think he had liked my mom and was mad at her or something crazy like that,” I said, trying to understand it myself as I said it.

“Who does that? That’s insane. How did your dad find her? He must have been a mess,” he said, and his voice was filled with emotion.

“The FBI found her, I think. My dad saw her, though, on the ground. He thought my mom was dead, so I think the trauma really haunts him,” I said, and I had a lump in my throat for my father.

“I can’t imagine how he felt. Thinking his wife and unborn child were gone?” he said sadly.

“Yeah. A few years ago, I was upset that he had had several nightmares during that week in May, and I tried to talk to him the next morning. All he would tell me was that when you think you’ve lost your one true love, you know in your heart that you won’t survive it. He relives that every year,” I said, heavyhearted.

“That’s so sad, Emerson. I feel really bad for him. Does Indy remember anything? I can’t imagine a newborn would remember. Was he OK when he was born?” he asked with concern.

“Well, they were both in the hospital for a little while. Indy was born in a pretty traumatic situation, but he doesn’t remember a thing, thank goodness. It seems to have affected my dad the most because he thought he lost them. He is a very protective husband and father, and I think that experience made him very cautious. We had security with us when I was young until my mom finally convinced him that we didn’t need it a few years ago,” I said, looking into his sympathetic eyes.