Emma vs. The Tech Guy (21 page)

“You look so beautiful. What a pretty scarf that is.” Pop’s voice was low and sweet.

I froze in place, wondering what I’d just stepped into. Could Pop have a woman in there? The only woman it could have been was Mrs. Elwood, but I couldn’t imagine she’d have any reason to be in his bedroom. Maybe he was showing her his silver dollar collection that was mounted on the wall next to his dresser? I thought about clearing my throat, announcing my presence, but I didn’t want to intrude, especially when it seemed they were finally getting close.

I decided it was best to leave, since they obviously hadn’t heard me. Then I heard his voice again.

“That feel good?”

Oh my God!
I did not need to hear that. I’d had no idea their relationship had progressed so quickly, and given their age, I was a bit stunned. I thought of Bill and his magic little pills. Maybe Pop had a few of his own. I had to get out of there before my image of the man who raised me was permanently tarnished.

“C’mon, sweetheart. This won’t work if you’re going to just lie there.”

Now that one really threw me. What kind of crazy stuff were those senior citizens doing in there? I tried to keep my imagination from working out what must be going on behind that door. What challenges there must be for an older couple to, well …. I squeezed my eyes tight and blinked the image away as I crept back to the front door.

“Open up, girl.
Please
. You know how many other girls would love this?”

I cringed at hearing the pleading in his voice. Then I thought, what other girls? I’d reached the door, hand on the knob, and remembered how it was loose and cracked when you turned it. With a slow and steady hand, I began to turn the knob.

“Just a little taste.”

Ugh
! My head snapped to the right, and my grip on the door followed. The door echoed a click and popped open. I didn’t care if he heard as long as I got the heck out of the S&M House of Horrors for seniors. I was half-way out the door when I heard him behind me.

“Emma Jean?”

How could he come out there like that? Immobilized, I stared out to the street trying not to picture what was behind me, praying that he was at least covered wherever necessary.

“Sorry, didn’t hear you come in,” he said in the most natural voice. “But I’m glad you’re here. I could use a little help.”

“What?”
No way!
With my feet still glued to the floor, I slowly craned my head and narrowed my focus so I could catch a peripheral view of him.

“Come on back and I’ll show you,” he said.

Strangely, he appeared to be fully clothed, so I spun all the way around and faced him. He was wearing a grey jogging suit and holding a spoon. I came back in and shut the door behind me.

“Pop?”

He walked off and disappeared behind his door. I followed the same path he took.

“What’s going on, and what are you and—” I stopped short in the doorway, surprise and relief pouring over me. “Who’s that?” A long-haired silky Lhasso, with a gorgeous pink scarf, sat in a box on Pop’s floor.

“This is Tiffany. I’m taking care of her while Sue is visiting her sister.”

“Hey, cutie,” I said, gliding over to the box that was next to the bed. I sat on the corner. She jumped up and put her front paws on my knees. Her tail fluttered as fast as a hummingbird. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t do well when Sue is away. This is better than the damn kennel, but she won’t eat a thing for me.”

I grinned like an idiot looking at him, still holding the spoon, and realizing what that one-sided conversation had meant.

“What’s so funny?” he said.

“Nothing. I just think it’s really nice of you to take care of her dog. How long will she be gone?”

“Just a couple of days.”

“Don’t you have any treats or anything?” I stroked the fur on her head, watching her black eyes stare up at me.

“Oh, yeah, she’ll eat those treats. But Sue says not to give her too many.” He leaned against the wall, resting his elbow on the window sill.

“She’s so adorable.” Sitting there petting this strange dog in the house I grew up in felt odd and childlike. It was as though I was a kid again, and this was some special treat. “How come we never got a dog?”

“Your dad was allergic. Don’t you remember that?”

“Oh.” That was something that I never knew or forgot. Either way, my new puppy excitement ended with that. I set Tiffany back in her box and patted the bottom so she’d lie down.

“Let’s get a drink,” he said, probably spotting my attitude change.

We padded back to the kitchen and left Tiffany to nap in her box.

“So she’ll stay in there?” I asked.

“Yep. She’s an old girl. Guess she doesn’t have time for following humans around.” He pulled out two bottles of water from the fridge and handed me one. “So how’s the clubhouse coming?”

“What?” I realized a second later that he was referring to our conversation last week. It was his way of asking if I’d laid my cards on the table. If I’d actually begun to start anew.

He tilted his head and shot me the disgruntled parent look. I pretended not to see and took a seat at the table.

“It’s a lot easier on paper, you know?” I said continuing with the building analogy. “You can have the greatest plans in the world, but it’s the execution that’s the hardest part.”

“Very funny, Emma Jean.” He leaned against the sink, looking expectant.

“And speaking of execution, I’m not really looking forward to the viewing of my demise.”

“I don’t understand what happened. You seemed so ready the other day.”

“I know,” I said, looking away. The tree out his back window bent slightly in the breeze. I kept my eyes trained on it, thankful it couldn’t stare back at me. “That was before Jayne told me she got engaged to Hank.”

“You’re kidding? That big guy of hers? The one that looks like that hairy thing from
Star Wars
?”

“Chewbacca,” I said turning my attention back to him.

“Thought you said Hank?”

His mastery of pop culture was at about a two out of ten. Combine that with his memory and you have comic misconception. He could argue with you for an hour that he saw a movie simply based on the preview he saw on TV.

“Yeah, Pop. His name is Hank, but you were talking about the character in
Star Wars
. That was Chewbacca.”

“Oh, right. Well what does that have to do with your not talking things over with her?”

Geez, he had a point there. At the time I seemed to remember having a reason.

“The timing just wasn’t right. Honestly, I was so thrown by the engagement I couldn’t think of anything else. I couldn’t even speak.”

A couple of tiny yelps came from the bedroom and we both turned our heads that way. “Well that’s nothing new for you,” he said. “So you don’t think she should marry him?”

“No, but then again, my expertise on the subject is a tad skewed.”

“To say the least.”

“That’s very helpful, Pop. Thanks.”

“I’m sorry, Missy. But what do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged like I was a teenager again, trying to get advice on boys and makeup. The only thing Pop would ever say was, “If you need clothes and makeup to get a boy to notice you, then he’s not the boy for you.” Then as he was walking away he’d add something like, “and if I ever catch you done up like that tramp Heather down the street, you’ll be grounded until the next millennium.”

He came around and placed his rough palm against my back. “You know what? You’re going to figure this whole thing out.”

“How do you know?”

“Because if there’s one thing I know for sure about you, Emma Barton, it’s that you’re a problem solver.”

My spirits perked up a bit, since that’s what he’d always told me in school. And a tingle of hope stirred inside me, hearing the same thing I’d been thinking myself at the ballroom. The problem was that for once in my life, I wasn’t confident about a plan. I wasn’t sure which way to turn.

“But this
is
a little different.”

“Maybe, but I have a feeling you’ll figure it all out. Have I ever been wrong before?”

“Well ….” I let the full-blown smile take over.

“Okay,” he said and grinned right back. “But I’ve never been wrong about you.”

He was right.

Chapter 22

It was thirty minutes before we had to leave for the party, and Howard still wasn’t home. I’d spent the whole day at the ballroom with the rest of our crew getting everything set up. Aside from a few small hiccups, everything seemed to be falling right into place. When I got home, I expected to find Howard coming out of the shower yelling at me to get my ass in gear. Instead, I was greeted with an empty house and a text that said he might have to meet me there.

I slipped into a wine-colored, party-length dress with cross straps in the back. I had my hair up in a loose roll, off to one side. Normally I liked my hair down, but I wanted to make sure my new black onyx earrings showed. Pop had given me them to me the day before. They were gorgeous, yet not overstated. He knew me so well.

He also knew something had happened when I met Guy at the ballroom that afternoon, but I couldn’t even admit that to myself. So, after much nagging on his part, I politely told him to butt out and then turned the focus back to him and Mrs. Elwood. It sounded like things were getting serious, given the fact that she trusted him with her precious Tiffany. But it wasn’t just that. Pop wasn’t much of a smiler. In fact, I was surprised to see that his teeth were still a bright shade of white as he talked about seeing her when she returned from her trip. It was a relief to get my mind off of Guy. The problem was that the more I tried not to think about him, which worked for everything else in my life, the more I thought of him.

Howard flew through the door right as I was slamming back a pre-party cocktail of Crown and Coke, hold the Coke.

“A bit nervous, are we?” he said. He headed straight for the cupboard, grabbed a glass, and splashed his own drink over a pile of ice cubes.

“Oh, are you talking to me?” I asked in feigned confusion.

“What?”

“I didn’t think you’d recognize me.”

“Come on, now. No time for pouting.” He held up his drink as he speed-walked right by me and down the hall. “I’ll just change. Five minutes, I promise.”

In the car on the way over, Howard brought up Emilia. Five minutes earlier, she’d texted me that all three of them had arrived and made it to her apartment. She wanted to know if we were still on for brunch tomorrow. I quickly replied, ready with a “Oh, it’s just Nannette with some last minute questions” lie in case he asked.

“I’m a little worried about her, that’s all,” he said.

“Yeah, but she never returns your calls anyway. I’m sure she’s just busy unpacking and all.”

“I guess.”

I could tell he had something else on his mind. “Maybe you’re not only worried about Emilia.” I probably shouldn’t have risked starting a full-blown discussion when we were minutes from the ballroom, but I couldn’t help myself. I needed to feel out the situation, see how open he was to working things out.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe you want to see if she talked to your parents.”

“No.” His head snapped over to me, and he shot me a raised eyebrow. “I specifically told her not to talk to my parents.”

“Right,” I said, nodding and dragging the word out. “But did you order the code red?”

“Whatever. Did I tell you how gorgeous you look tonight?”

“No, and it’s about time.” I adjusted my seatbelt for the tenth time so it wouldn’t wrinkle my dress.

“And?”

“And what?” I played along.

“How many guys do you know who can pull all this together so quickly?” He made a grand gesture with his hand from his hair down his body. He wore a black suit, perfectly tailored to that it-almost-looks-too-small style perfected by Ryan Seacrest, and a black dress shirt with faint white pinstripes. And of course, he had not a hair out of place, thanks to half a bottle of hairspray, which was a touch more than his usual.

“Forgive me. You look incredible enough to be arm candy, so make sure you don’t leave my side.”

“Thank you.”

We both giggled, and I decided right then that tonight would be about fun … and forgetting. At least for one night. Even Cinderella got as much. After tonight I would tell Howard about his parents being in town, and I’d talk to Bill and Jayne. Maybe it was the excitement of the party looming, but for some reason I felt a spark of hope.

Stepping into the ballroom on Howard’s arm, I actually did feel a bit like Cinderella. Like this was my night to shine, to be happy. And I was determined to make that plan happen. I know, a plan to be happy doesn’t sound too magical, but I was going with it.

The first thing I noticed entering the ballroom was the lighting. It glowed perfectly overhead in the middle, yet brightly spotlighted the massive cover display as well as the areas for interaction. The tables were covered with a gorgeous combination of cream and taupe linens, and each displayed a cheerful arrangement of daylilies with a hint of greenery.

We stopped for a moment to take it all in. Then I began looking for my crew. Jayne told me that day she’d stalled Hank long enough and was telling him her answer for sure tonight. If she brought him to the party, then that meant she’d said yes. If she showed up alone, then it was over. I kept my eyes peeled for my petite friend as Howard and I made the initial sweep through the room to check things out. I wanted Jayne to be happy, but I couldn’t help but hope she’d walk in unaccompanied.

After seeing that everything was exactly as expected, I finally saw Adam. As usual, he didn’t disappoint, for fashion was as natural to him as breathing. I already knew he was coming alone, so I didn’t ask if he’d brought someone. That was standard, as well, for functions like these. He always arrived alone, but never left that way.

“Looking fine, as usual, Emma. How you doing, Howie?”

I smiled a
thanks
and the two men shook hands. Howard replied, “Hanging in there, man.”