Chapter Twenty-Four
Emily
By the next morning, Howard had forgiven my absence and was curled up next to me in bed, purring softly. I lay there petting his head as I recalled the night before and how wonderful it had been to spend the evening with Blake, getting to know his friends and colleagues. Nina had grown more comfortable with her father dating me, and I felt like maybe the trip to the Waltham Museum had gotten through to her in a way that I hadn’t been able to before.
“I gotta get up, little man,” I said, as patted Howard’s head one more time before I slipped out of bed and padded to the kitchen to make some coffee. I turned on the radio and sang along with the playlist of classic rock hits, and realized that I missed KO more than I’d anticipated.
I thought about calling her, but when I looked at the clock, I realized she’d probably been up all night partying and would still be fast asleep. I’d do it later. Howard hopped up on the counter and stared at me accusingly.
“Yes, yes, I know,” I said, pulling a can of food out of the cupboard. “You’re still pissed at me for missing the wet food drop yesterday. It’s not as if you didn’t have a full bowl of dry food ready and waiting, mister.”
Howard blinked once and then looked out the window, indicating that my explanation was wholly unacceptable. I shook my head as I served up his breakfast on the counter and turned to the fridge to make my own meal.
“You know, you’re a poor substitute for Blake,” I said, as I sat down at the counter with my toast and a jar of peanut butter. Howard ignored my insult and continued eating. I thought about calling Blake but decided that since we had plans for later, it would be best to leave him alone and not seem so desperate.
“Oh my gosh,” I laughed, with a mouth full of peanut butter toast. “Listen to me. I sound like a high school girl with a crush on the quarterback!”
Howard gave me the side eye, and then hopped down from the counter and stretched out in a patch of sunshine, where he proceeded to clean himself. I quickly finished my breakfast, cleaned the kitchen, and then went to take a shower and get ready for whatever adventure Blake had planned for us today.
I was curled up on the couch with a book on early 20th century Massachusetts history when I heard a knock at the door. I popped up off the couch and ran to welcome Blake into the house, but when I opened the door, I felt nothing but dread.
“Hello, Emily,” my mother said. My father nodded without saying anything as my mother looked at me and asked, “Aren’t you going to invite your parents in?”
“How did you find me?” I blurted out.
“Please, Emily, we know people in this town,” my father said pointedly. “Now, are you going to invite us inside or must we have this conversation on the stoop?”
“Of course,” I said in a meek voice, as I stepped back and gestured at the living room. “Won’t you please come in?”
“That’s more like it,” my mother nodded. “All those finishing school lessons paid off after all.”
“Why are you here?” I asked, once I’d taken their coats and hung them in KO’s hall closet. My mother was examining the living room with a critical eye while my father had settled himself as far away from Howard as he could.
“It’s certainly not for a social visit, Emily,” my mother sniffed. “But it’s nice of you to ask. We’re here to see what happened to the house and find out why you didn’t see fit to tell us about the fire. We had to hear about it from our friends on the Waltham City Council. What were you thinking, Emily? Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for us?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, looking down at the floor and feeling like I was a child again. “I didn’t mean to keep you out of the loop. I’ve just been busy trying to get the insurance claim filed and find a new place to live.”
“Your mother has been all out of sorts about this, Emily,” my father said, looking disdainfully around KO’s living room. “If you couldn’t afford a proper place to live, you really should have called. We would have paid for better quarters.”
“I know, Daddy,” I nodded, feeling ashamed and angry at the same time. I hated the way my parents could apply just enough guilt to make me crumble. “I said I’m sorry. I just wanted to take care of it myself.”
“Very well, what’s done is done,” my mother said, trying to sound magnanimous. “But you never sent me a thank you note for the present I sent you for Christmas.”
“I’m sorry, Mother,” I said quietly. “It got burned up in the fire.”
“My God, Emily, must you always be so careless?” she exclaimed. “The very least you could do would be to acknowledge the gift was received. I swear, it’s like throwing money down a well with you.”
I could feel my throat beginning to constrict as the tears formed in the corner of my eyes. I was angry at her for making this whole situation worse by scolding me for a breach of manners, and yet I also knew she was right. I should have written the note.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” I said. “It was a mistake.”
“Indeed it was, I’m glad you can acknowledge that much,” my mother sighed. “I’m not sure where I went wrong with you. Your sister turned out so well and you, well, you are a disappointment on so many levels, Emily.”
“Why are you saying this to me?” I cried. “Why did you even come visit? If you wanted to torture me, you could have done it over the phone and with a lot less hassle for all of us!”
“Oh goodness, don’t go getting so dramatic, Emily,” my mother said, as she rolled her eyes and laughed uncomfortably. “We came to see how you were doing and if you needed anything.”
“I need to not be tormented by you!” I spat.
“Emily, do not speak to your mother in that tone of voice,” my father warned. “I’ll not have it.”
“Then tell her not to bait me!” I protested. I had completely reverted to child mode now and was anxious to get away from the two of them. I hadn’t seen them in several years, and time had softened the edges of our conflicted relationship, but now the sharp angles and jagged lines of everything that had gone on between us reasserted themselves and reminded me why I kept my distance.
“Emily Jean Fowler, get a hold of yourself!” my mother scolded. Howard hopped off the couch and stalked over to where my mother stood staring out the front window. I watched as he gave her a cold stare and then swiped his claw across her ankle. “Ouch! You little beast!”
My mother pulled her foot back as if she were preparing to kick the cat, but I swooped in and scooped him up off the floor, holding him in my arms as we both watched her examine the scratches.
“That cat is a beast,” my mother said angrily. “You ought to have him put down.”
Howard’s growl began as a low rumble, and I knew that no good would come of it, so I walked back to the bedroom and put him on the bed.
“Stay here while I get rid of the beasts in the front room,” I said, without humor. Howard blinked once as if to acknowledge our shared disdain, and then curled up on my pillow with a watchful eye on the door.
“Mother, Daddy,” I began, as I entered the living room. “I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing. I don’t—”
There was a knock at the door, and when I opened it, I was both relieved and dismayed to find Blake on the other side. I regretted not having explained my family situation to him, but I also knew that it most likely would have been the kiss of death to our budding romance. Now, I had no choice but to deal with it. I just hoped he’d forgive me later.
“Blake,” I said, giving him a weak smile. “Just in time to meet my parents. Blake Gaston, this is my mother, Charlotte Fowler, and my father, William. Mother and Daddy, this is Blake Gaston.”
“You’re dating someone?” my mother sniffed, as she looked Blake up and down.
“It’s so nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Fowler,” Blake smiled, as he extended his hand. My mother gave him a limp shake and a smile that did not reach her eyes. Blake turned to my father and did the same. “Mr. Fowler, it’s nice to meet you.”
My father started at the offered hand and then asked, “Are you on the faculty at Waltham University?”
“No, I’m a firefighter with the Waltham FD,” Blake replied.
“Oh, I see,” my father said, with obvious disdain.
“I’m sorry, sir, is there a problem?” Blake asked, as he shot me a confused look.
“Emily went to Brown University,” my mother sniffed, without elaborating.
“We’re just surprised, that’s all,” my father followed up, without looking at Blake.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just insulted me,” Blake said.
“Well, my grandfather used to say, if the shoe fits,” my father said, trailing off without finishing. He looked at my mother and said, “I believe it’s time we headed home, Charlotte.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Blake said, looking back and forth between my parents. “Are you seriously this rude to everyone, or is it just me?”
“Blake—” I said, trying to warn him off.
“No, don’t ‘Blake’ me as if I’m some child who needs to be reminded of his place with the adults,” Blake said, zeroing in on my father. “Sir, I don’t know what in the hell crawled up your ass and died, but your daughter is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and I’m sure she is perfectly capable of making her own decisions about who to date, upbringing notwithstanding.”
“Listen here, young man,” my father said, pulling himself up to his full height and looking Blake in the eye. “I have no idea who you are or what your relationship with my daughter is, but I will tell you that since I’ve never once heard your name mentioned, I’m guessing it can’t be much.”
“Why you—” Blake seethed.
“Stop it!” I shouted. I was furious with Blake for attacking my parents, and furious with my parents for being here to begin with. I was dangerously close to completely breaking down and I wanted all of them out of the house. “Both of you! Just stop it! I’m not some herd of cattle that you two get to argue over!”
“Emily—” Blake and my father said in unison.
“No, stop it!” I shouted, close to tears. “I don’t want to hear anything from either of you! Get out! All of you, get out of my house!”
“Emily, you’re being horribly rude, young lady,” my mother said in a low voice. “I thought I raised you better than that.”
“Get out, Mother,” I said through clenched teeth. “Get. Out. All of you. OUT!”
Blake stared at me for a moment and then stormed toward the front door, flinging it wide open and marching down the walk to his truck. My parents quickly made their exit, and I slammed the door behind them. With everyone gone, I walked over to the bedroom and flung the door open before I leaned against the wall and slid down until I was sitting with my knees to my chest.
It was only then that I bowed my head and cried harder than I could ever remember. Howard sat next to me mewing softly and patting my arm with his paw, but nothing could soothe the humiliation and pain in my heart. I wanted to call Blake and apologize, but I didn’t dare.
Instead, I sat in the hallway and sobbed until there were no more tears left.