The Rise of Emery James (41 page)

Luckily for me this forced hiatus doesn’t mean I don’t get to talk to her. I was afraid when she'd told me she needed me to go that she would just cut me out of her life and I'd have to fight my way back in. I was so afraid that she was going to use it as an excuse to drift away again or build that wall back up. But after we talked we agreed that me leaving didn't mean we were done. I could live with a breather...not a break up, even a temporary one. We'd worked too hard to take those kinds of chances with our hearts.

Emery had agreed and I knew she wasn't letting go of anything when the night before I left she'd broken down sobbing in my arms, clinging to me as if her entire world was walking away. In that moment I'd thought about convincing her that I should stay, but I didn't. She was right. She knew what she needed and I had to trust her. I would do that for her. For us.

And now we’ve been apart for almost two months. I hate it, but the sound of her voice after a long day of hard work is enough to soothe me. It’s my favorite part of the day and each time I hear her soft sigh across the phone line I want to jump in my truck and drive straight back to her.

My cell lights up as I rub a towel through my freshly washed hair. A glance at the bedside clock tells me it’s Emery. I always text her good morning and we always speak before bed. I like that she is still the last voice I hear before I fall asleep.

I grab up the cell and slide over the answer button as I sink back onto the bed. "Hi, pretty girl," I smile.

"Hi. How was your day?" she asks sweetly.

"Long. But it's looking up now," I say.

I swear I can see her shy smile if close my eyes. If I concentrate hard enough I can almost feel her here with me. I imagine her lying here on the bed with me, her head against my chest as I thread my fingers through her hair and we talk about the details of our day.

"How was school today?" I ask. Principal Moore found an opening for Emery and she's been teaching English and reading to some of the older classes at one of the Elementary schools.

"Good. Everyone seems to be settling in and I've gotten to know some of the other teachers. I think I'm going to like it," she says. My heart swells at her words. I love imagining her there, finally fulfilling her dream to teach. She's finding all of the pieces and putting them back together. I just hate that I'm not there to see how she looks as they all become a part of her again.

"I bet the kids love you," I say.

"I hope so. I have a good group. I'm having fun," she admits.

We talk for over an hour as she tells me about some of the kids and about dinner with Henry. He's hired a new office girl now that Emery has gone to teaching and she seems to be quite the character. She's an older woman and has taken over the office like a whirlwind. Emery seems to think that Henry might like her. I can't wait to meet her. Henry hasn't taken a liking to anyone since Emery's mother passed away, so she must be special.

I don't have a lot of stories to tell since my days are filled with work and waiting for this nightly talk, so I simply listen and laugh at her stories and tell her how much I miss her.

"I miss you too," she admits quietly.

Sometimes the right thing is hardest thing to live through.

Emery

HAVING COLE GONE HAS
been a lot harder than I thought it would be. I knew my life was wrapped up in him, but his absence is loud and my evenings without him here are lonely. Most nights when we talk I want to ask him to come home, but I don't because I know this time apart is actually helping us. It's forcing me to rely on myself more and open the doors I need to all on my own. It's making me feel brave and that's something I’ve desperately needed.

Being away from him has also pushed me to fill my time with other people. I've been spending a lot of time with the girls and as much as I worried about opening up to them again, having them around has given me back a connection I was sorely missing. There's a certain kind of confidence that comes with having close female friends. It's that solidarity that you have each other's back no matter what. It's knowing that you have a place to bring all of your crazy and that someone is going to understand it and embrace it. I'd forgotten what that felt like.

That's why when I called Kelsey up last night and asked her if she'd go somewhere with me today, she didn't ask questions. She just said yes and asked what time I wanted to meet up. I like Kelsey a lot. At first glance she seems quiet. You might think it's because she's surrounded by friends who are loud and boisterous, that maybe that keeps her on the side lines, but that's not it at all. Kelsey is an observer. She's constantly taking in everything around her. It's why photography is such a natural fit for her. She's always seen things differently. She sees more than the rest of us.

I think those traits are what draw me closer to her now. I don't have to tell her everything about what I'm feeling for her to know. She sees me clearer than I do sometimes and she never judges me or pushes me to give her more.

"So where are we going?" Kelsey asks as she climbs into my car. It's early afternoon on Saturday and I'm feeling nervous and excited for what I have planned. I'd have gone on my own, but I think I need moral support.

"Well, it's kind of a whim...but not," I start before taking a deep breath. "I want to get a tattoo."

Kelsey's eyes go wide in surprise. "Really? Cool!" I smile, feeling relieved when she doesn't tell me I'm crazy. "I know a great place if you don't already have an appointment."

'Yeah? Do you think I could get in today?" I ask. I know the chances of getting in and getting it done today are slim, but I can at least get an appointment for later and talk to the artist about what I want.

"Maybe - who knows. I know the guy so maybe I can pull some strings," she smiles.

I take a satisfied breath and pull out onto the road and head towards the city.

Brady, the artist that Kelsey knows, greets us happily when we walk into the shop. I feel my nerves spike now that we are here. Kelsey hugs him and he seems so taken with her that I'm pretty sure she could get him to do anything she wanted.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asks, his grip on her a little tighter than a friendly acquaintance and I wonder about their history.

"I brought you a new client," she smiles. Brady's eyes move to me and he gives me a warm smile. I lift my hand in a nervous wave.

"Awesome," he smiles.

"Do you have any openings later? Kelsey asks him with her sweet smile and a slight bat of her lashes.

He knows what she's doing, but it's obvious that he doesn't care.

"What are you looking for?" he asks, turning back to me.

"Um. Something like this, maybe?" I pull out the piece of paper that I have in my pocket. I'd printed it off of the internet not knowing if that was frowned upon or not. I've never been close to getting a tattoo before, so this is all new for me and I’m not sure if bringing in my folded paper is against the rules. But Brady takes it from me and studies it with an approving nod.

"Where do you want it?" he asks me.

I hold out my arm and slide my fingers across the inside of my wrist, "Here?" I say, asking for his approval.

"I can get you in later. That won't take long at all. Give me a couple of hours?" he suggests.

"Sure. We can go and grab dinner first," Kelsey smiles.

"And maybe we can hang out after?" Brady asks hopeful.

I watch as Kelsey cocks her head and gives him a sly smile. "It's girl's night," she shrugs. Brady shakes his head like he's heard her excuses before.

"One day," he says.

She smiles and grabs my hand, "We'll see you in a bit," she says and pulls me back out onto the sidewalk outside.

"Two hours," I say. I hope I don't psyche myself out of getting it done.

"Let's go eat," she says as we make our way back to the car.

"So, Brady," I coax as I drive towards an area that houses a lot of restaurants.

Kelsey laughs, "I met him on a shoot a few months ago. He's very talented. He actually has a show coming up to showcase some paintings he's done. The studio where I work was hired by the gallery to take some photos of him for an article they are doing to promote the show. I took the pictures and he asked me out. That's all. I keep saying no."

"Why do you keep saying no?" I ask. I feel a little bad for prying, seeing how I've been holding on to my privacy so hard these past few months, but Kelsey doesn't seem to mind sharing.

"I don't know. I just don't know that I'm in the right mindset to date right now. I want to concentrate on my photography. I really want to open a small studio in town. I like the experience of working in the city, but I love the smaller scale. I like the intimate photos you get with something more personable. It's just where my focus is right now," she admits.

"I can understand that." Someone like Annie might push her to embrace it all. She's the kind of person that goes through everything in life with full gusto, but I'm a lot more like Kelsey. I understand taking the time to find your foundation. I guess that's why the man I love is living out of some tiny apartment in another state right now.

We pull up to a Mexican restaurant and head inside. It seems like a nice place where we can sit and talk and wait for my appointment without being frowned upon to leave. Once we're settled and the waiter has set us up with salsa and a basket of fresh chips, Kelsey asks if she can see the paper with the drawing on it.

I pull it out and smooth it down before handing it over to her. It's simple and small, but when I saw it I fell in love with it. It's the meaning behind it that has me wanting to permanently place it on my skin. She takes the paper and runs her fingers over it. The artful lines swirling out from a cluster of petals,

"It's a lotus flower," Kelsey says, surprising me.

"Yeah," I say, holding my breath. I wonder if she knows what it represents.

"It's beautiful. A flower like this tells quite a story, doesn't it?" she asks, lifting her eyes to mine briefly. "It makes the most of the sludge around it to become something beautiful. Somehow defying the odds to rise above."

I feel my breath catch as she pinpoints the very thing that drew me to the design.

"Do you think it's cheesy?" I ask.

"Not at all. I think it's perfect," she says.

I relax a little, relieved as she slides the paper back over to me. "I guess I just wanted something to represent this time in my life. Maybe even remind me what I have already overcome and how I can handle whatever comes my way."

"I know we don't really talk about Gabe much, but I want you to know that I think you are brave. Starting over is never easy, but you've done it with a grace you can be proud of," she says quietly.

Her words squeeze my heart as I try to believe them. Everything I've hidden from in my past threatens to write them off as impossible, but then I think about all that I've done since coming back to Darling. I think about everything I've become and I know that I can't discount her because I am proud of what I've accomplished. I'm proud of how I feel and the hope that I have for my future.

"Thank you," I manage, feeling a little choked up. Kelsey smiles back and quickly changes the subject before I can lose my composure.

"I'm starving - you want to share some fajitas?" And just like that, she sets me at ease again.

Brady is ready for us when we make it back to the shop and while I have butterflies in my stomach I'm ready to do this. Kelsey comes back with me and watches from a chair off to the side so she can talk me down if I get too nervous. Brady makes small talk as he takes the stencil he made of my drawing and places it on my wrist like I'd pointed out. When he peels back the paper leaving the purple outline of my future tattoo I feel my stomach flip in a good way. This is mine. Gabe would have hated the idea of a tattoo, but this is for me - a tiny mantra that I can carry with me from this day forward.

"You like it?" he asks.

"Let's do it."

Later that night I dial Cole's number as I look down at the fresh ink on my wrist. It turned out just like I'd hoped. I snap a picture and send it to Cole just before I call. After all, he's the sun that allowed me to bloom.

"Hey, baby - what is this picture you sent me?" he answers.

"I got a tattoo today," I say.

Part of me waits for him to blow up like I know Gabe would have done, but instead he says, "No shit? That's yours? It looks great. Did it hurt?"

I sink into the pillows smiling like a Cheshire cat. I'm so ready for him to come home. "Not really. Just a little sting. I kind of liked it, which sounds crazy, but I can see why people get so many. It could be addicting," I admit.

He laughs. It's my favorite sound. "So tell me about it," he encourages.

And so I do. I tell him everything about the experience and what it all means and at the end of our call when we go to say goodnight he whispers, "I love you - I'm so proud of you." And my heart falls in love with him all over again.

I WALK OUT OF THE
school rifling through my bag of ungraded papers in search of my keys and trying to make it to my car before the weather hits. Thunder rolls overhead and I'm pretty certain if I don't find my keys quickly I'm going to be driving home looking like a drowned rat. One day I've got to learn to stop throwing them into the bottom of my bag. It's an empty abyss and I lose everything. My keys, my phone, my wallet. It's ridiculous. I'm scolding myself as I near the parking lot, completely absorbed in my task when I hear a deep rumbling voice say, "Lose something?"