Emily Calls It (The Emily Series) (16 page)

He put the rest of the pizza into his refrigerator and pulled the cribbage board off a shelf next to his stereo. “Really? Is he older?”

“Yeah.” He came back with an inquisitive look on his face. “It was weird at first. You know, being at the same college, but we manage just fine.” I thought of telling him how he is living with my good friend that I introduced him to, but maybe another time.

The game started and we were fierce opponents. The time flew. Both of us sounded off, 15 -2, 15-4 and so on for two hours. I had met a worthy adversary. The games were split 50-50
.
I felt myself yawn and my eyes water. I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to focus on the clock in the kitchen.

“It’s late. We can call it, Emily.” He said, stretching.

I hesitated, still hoping I could beat him. But he was right. “OK,” I said reluctantly.

“Rematch?” He stood up towering above me and offered me his hand.

“Absolutely.” I said, taking it. He pulled me to my feet.

“Thanks for dinner, Kyle. Oh, and the game.” I picked up my glass ready to clean up. Kyle took one step toward me, his eyes on mine, leaned in and took the glass out of my hand. For just the flash of a second I wondered if he was going to do more than just take my glass.

“I got this.” He turned toward the kitchen first, but must have reconsidered because he stayed where he was. “Thanks for joining me. I know it wasn’t much.” He looked around. “Maybe next time we can do better.”

My mind asked
next time?
B
ut I said
,
“sure.”

I walked home and shut the door behind me leaning against it for a second. I bit my lower lip and thought about my life. The drama and confusion of Graham, the unknown of Colin, and the unexpected in Kyle. With each day’s man interactions, I grew more and more off-kilter. I hadn’t seen Graham since our last date, and I knew some kind of conversation had to take place soon. I still wasn’t sure what I would say to him. And Colin. He wanted to see me again, but I was still so hung up on Graham. At least Kyle was content to be my friend. Or was he? My tired head spun. I pushed off from the door and walked through the dark apartment. I couldn’t wait to hit the pillow for a good night’s sleep.

Sadly, restful sleep was not in the cards.

NINETEEN

The Call One Dreads

I saw the red light blinking on my answering machine. I pushed play and continued to walk back to my bedroom, removing m
y shirt and kicking off my flip-
flops at the same time. I paused when I heard my mom. Her voice quivered, fading in and out. I could hardly understand what she was saying. I dropped my shirt on the floor and replayed the message. I still couldn’t understand her
.
I just heard something about Dad. I picked up the phone and dialed her number. I was confused: why would she call me about Dad, and so obviously upset?

“Mom, slow down.” That was
all I could
get in. It wasn’t my dad. She was talking about
her
dad. Grandpa
.
It was a stroke, and it was sudden. I felt my shoulders slump and my fingers go numb
.
I dropped to the floor and listened as she tried to tell me what happened through sobs and tears. All I could think of was how fast I could get to her. And Grandma. Oh, Grandma must be devastated. Arrangements hadn’t been made so she told me not to rush, but it was all I could think to do. I told her I would call her in the morning and hung up, immediately calling Ethan. He already knew.

“Where were you?” He started right in.

“I was having pizza with a friend.” I ignored the disgust in his voice. It was probably just frustration anyway. “When do you want to go?”

“I’m thinking we should fly. Mom said the service is this weekend.” He sighed, clearly upset. “I don’t know about you, but driving sounds terrible. Let’s head out Friday.” I heard him sniffle. I wiped the tears that had pooled under my eyes.

“You don’t want to try to get a flight out tomorrow?”

“No. Mom made a point to tell me not to miss classes. Plus, I got the impression she wants to pull it together a little before we get there.” He paused. “Or Grandma does. You know how she is, Emily.” That I did.

“OK
. I’ll call and check on flights in the morning. It shouldn’t be too hard to get a flight for Friday into
San Francisco
.” I thought since it was Wednesday night, a day
’
s notice might be expensive, but not impossible. Then I thought harder. I hadn’t been to Grandma and Grandpa’s in a couple of years. I’d seen them in Two Rivers but not at their house. I couldn’t even imagine walking through the door and not seeing him. I felt the lump in my throat grow. But at the same time I was even more grateful that Mom and Hunter had moved to be near them. The thought of Grandma alone was just too much to handle. During my thoughts Ethan and I were both quiet, but still on the phone together. I heard him sniffle again.

“Allison’s there, isn’t she?” As much as I would’ve loved to have my friend with me now, I really wanted her with Ethan.

“Yeah, she’s right here,” he said. I thought I heard just the slightest smile in his voice but it faded quickly. “She’s worried about you, Em. Do you want to come over?”

I thought it was nice, but I couldn’t imagine trying to sleep at his place. I just needed to be alone. “No. I’m good,” I said. “But thanks, Ethan.” And I meant it. He was worried about me, too
.
“I’ll call you after I find out about flights.”

“Thanks, Em.” He paused, and I could hear him still breathing on the other end of the phone. “This sucks.” I heard his voice crack and I wished we were in the same room so I could hug him.

“I know.” I didn’t hold back the tears any longer, I just let them flow. We hung up and I went straight for my bedroom. I was tired. So tired that I just wanted to sleep without even changing into my pajamas. But my eyes wouldn’t close.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth as I usually did, but when I returned to my bedroom to find my favorite sleep shirt, I could remember if I brushed my teeth. I ran my tongue across them, content that they were probably clean. My eyes stung and my nose still ran. I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes. It was a relief to close them but it didn’t matter. They might as well have been open. I couldn’t sleep. I rolled over and turned my lamp on. I needed something.

I walked into my closet and stood on my tiptoes reaching as high as I could. I tapped the end of a brown storage box until it tipped over the edge of the shelf
.
Little particles of dust fell down around me. Dust I was sure didn’t originate here, but on the top shelf of my closet at home. I left most of my memorabilia behind in storage, but this box I took with me wherever I went.

I dropped it on my bed, not caring about the dust
.
It stuck to my fingers as I pulled the flaps open. Inside was a odd grouping of things that together held so many memories
.
First, I lifted out my photo album. The edges were dark and bent and the gold trim only shiny in a couple of places. I ran my hand across it before opening to the first page. It chronicled my freshman through senior years of high school. The first page made me smile. My first basketball season and the infamous wet hazing ritual. All the freshmen lined up wet and fully uniformed then paraded into the gym. Humiliating at the time but funny later. Me in the center with Shayla and Jessica on either side.

I flipped through the pages remembering my sophomore and junior years fondly. Senior year was a longer section. The senior trip alone was a few pages. What a memory that was. Everyone wanted to go snow skiing, but the weather never cooperated
.
Instead we all went to
Disneyland
. You can’t beat that. And Jessica in those mouse ears. What a sight.

Then I got to the last few pages. My heart sank when I saw the pictures of my family together at graduation. Especially my grandparents, beaming with pride. I felt sadness and love. I ran my fingers across the photo and paused a moment as more tears fell. I saw one dot the edge of the album and wiped the rest away.

I turned to the last two pages. On one side was a picture of Shayla, Jessica, and I dressed in our gold caps and gowns smiling hugely. The other side caught me by surprise. I knew the photo was there; I’m the one who added it. But the sight of him caused me to stop breathing for a second. Christian. Me holding the rose he had given me, and him with his arm around my shoulder. I could almost feel it. For a split second I was there again. The cool evening, tons of people. Graduates and their families embracing and taking pictures. But the only thing I saw in all that commotion was him. Him smiling at me and telling me how much he enjoyed sharing the moment with me. I felt myself breathe. A slow, knowing breath. My feelings for him crept from where I stowed them and let me remember how wonderful and intense it was. I ran my fingers across the picture and let my mind wander to the time we shared. It seemed even more fragile now. Our time together. I know I made the decision that we not stay together. But right now…This last year seemed like one loss after another; first Christian, then Graham, and now Grandpa. I yawned and laid my head next to the album, resting my hand on the edge of it. I don’t know how long I stared at the picture but the next thing I knew, it was morning
.

I woke up on top of my covers with an arm across my photo album. I didn’t look at it again, afraid of what I might feel. I closed and returned it to the box
.

***

I took an extra long shower, mentally lining up all my tasks for the day. I just had a couple of classes, then work. I knew the office would understand if I needed to call a travel agent under the circumstances. Under the circumstances. It’s such a somber phrase. And everyone knows what it means. I blew my hair dry and put on a little makeup. I grabbed the closest ironed shirt I could find and a pair of khakis. It was plain, but it worked. And in that moment fashion was not on my mind.

Classes flew by, probably because I was totally not paying attention. When I got to the work, I went straight to
Sharon
’s office. She was behind her desk on the phone holding onto her glasses with one hand and gesturing with the other. She had the phone tucked between her shoulder and her cheek and made eye contact with me when I walked in. I sat down and waited.

She hung up. “What’s up, Emily?” She turned and secured a set of drawings behind her.

“Um.” She caught on with just that one syllable. She set her glasses on her desk, settling into her chair with evident concern on her face. “I need to head home for the weekend.” I paused hoping I could finish my sentence without crying. “We’ve had a death in the family.” I tried to look up at her, but ended up looking at my hands in my lap pretty much the whole time.

“No problem. Are you OK? Do you need to leave today?”

“No. Friday’s fine. I just need to make some travel arrangements for my brother and me
.
I was hoping to make some calls.”

“Of c
ourse.” She folded her hands on the desk and looked at me as if I was a little girl with a skinned knee.

“Thanks,
Sharon
. I appreciate it.” I got up and started out
.

I only had to make two calls before I had a decent flight for us. It would be a quick trip, leaving Friday and returning early Monday morning. I was so engrossed in making plans that I didn’t notice Colin walk up. I hung up the phone and laid my head in my hands sighing loudly.

“Emily?” Colin, who usually just lingered outside my cubicle, came in and leaned against my desk. “
Sharon
told me what happened. Is there anything I can do?” I looked up at him, tired and out of words. I shook my head. He knelt to be at eye level with me. “You should’ve called me. I could have come over or something.” It was sweet, really, but it hadn’t occurred to me.

“Thanks. I appreciate that. It was so late when I got the news. I just went straight to bed.” Anyway, that was sort of true, I thought.

“Well.” He stood back up. “I’m here if you need me.” He seemed sincere, but I wondered if he was the slightest bit put off that I didn’t call him the night before. I shook my head. No. He’s not Graham
.

TWENTY

The Funeral

I packed the most sensible black sheath dress I owned. Heels, hose, and a long black coat went along with it. I fastened the pearls my grandparents had given me for my graduation around my neck. I didn’t even want to chance packing them. They
looked absurd with my grey tee
shirt and jeans, like I cared what I looked like to get on a plane anyway. Even in his state of grief, my brother still had the strength to tease me.

I threw my bag and coat in the trunk of his car and slid into the passenger’s seat. The airport was only minutes away, but who knew, with traffic. We gave ourselves plenty of time.

“Nice pearls,” was the first thing he said to me, of course. “You trying to make some sort of statement with that get-up?”