Emma
I haven’t been to yoga in over a month, so I am like a kid at Christmas when Kylee rings the doorbell to pick me up for today’s class. Santana left for Houston on Monday. I met her and Kylee at the airport to say my goodbyes and wish her luck. She’s going to do great things with her talent. I just know it. She doesn’t know how to fail.
I lay my mat down and place my block. We start off today’s class with Sun Salutations. My mind leaves all the stress of the past behind, letting the soft melody of the background music wash it all away.
“I know you can’t help it, but I miss you so much,” Kylee confesses as she reaches her arms high for a crescent pose.
“I’ve missed you too. But, I’m here now. Everything’s back to normal.” I add false enthusiasm to my tone, hoping she doesn’t notice. I hate lying to my friend. I wish I could confide in her, tell her all that’s happened over the past month. I wish I could trust someone other than Dr. Owen with my secrets. Instead, I keep everything locked up tight inside the confines of my own mind where it’s free from judgement and safe from inquiring minds.
She looks up from her pose and meets my eyes. “No, Em. I mean, I miss you. You’re gone. You’ve been gone for quite a while.”
I guess I’m not as good an actress as I thought. First my mother figures me out, now Kylee.
“What do you mean? I’m right here.”
She folds her body forward, bringing her ear to her knees as she turns her head to face me. “When are you going to let yourself be happy again?”
“What are you talking about? I am happy. What makes you think I’m not happy?” Although, every time I repeat the word happy, it sounds more angry than cheerful.
“I don’t mean the kind of happy you show the world, Em. I mean when you’re alone. Right before you go to sleep at night. And you smile to yourself and think, “What a great day.”
I haven’t been that kind of happy in a long time.
Alex
Emma.
The angel has a name.
Of course, the first thing Nick did when I got back in the coffee shop that day was ask, “Who’s the blonde that has you by the dick?”
I laughed it off, because as history has shown, I’m not one to run off at the mouth about my personal life. I simply explained she’s someone I met during coffee, and I am eager to learn more about her. He just shook his head and told me he’s seen this look before. Though, I’m not sure he has. I’ve looked at a lot of women. I’ve even cared for one or two. But, I’ve never met anyone like Emma. She’s got me by more than just my dick, although that’s not a bad place to start.
I slide the blade out of its hiding place inside the box cutter and slice open the clear packing tape. If it weren’t for the labels on these boxes I wouldn’t even remember what’s inside them. Every night when I come home from the gym, I toss my bag on the floor next to the closet, leaving behind a trail of clothes as I strip on my way to the bathroom. I usually grab a bite from a local deli on the way home, which would explain why I’m currently unpacking a set of unused dinner plates from a cardboard box stacked in my living room.
After my shower, I typically pull on a pair of lounge pants, prop my feet on the leather ottoman, and watch television until I can’t keep my eyes open. Lather, rinse, and repeat. Every day for the past year and a half. I’ve never had any reason to settle in. This place has never felt like home. Other than my job, I’ve never had anything keeping me from loading those boxes back on a Uhaul and heading back to New Orleans.
Six Mondays ago, in a coffee shop, all that changed.
You’re jumping the gun here, Alex. Who says she’s ever going to see the inside of this place?
Who says she isn’t?
Now I sound like a crazy person, talking to myself. No, not talking, arguing, with myself. That’s a whole new level of insanity. Three hours later, my kitchen cabinets are full, and there’s art on my walls and books on my shelves. I look around the open floorplan and smile to myself. A sense of relief washes over me, and I feel… hopeful, for the first time in a long while.
Emma
Normally, I sit at the coffee shop and wait for the groomer to finish with Gatsby, but today she has three other dogs before him. So, she told me it would be more than an hour this time around. If I had a good book and no one waiting at home, nothing could keep me away from the little cafe in Brickell. I’d sit at the table in the corner next to the window and let myself fall deep into a world of romance only found in books. Then right around chapter four, my mystery person would show up. He’d have left the suit and tie behind today, since it’s Saturday, wearing those jeans that make his ass look just right and a fitted black t-shirt. He’d smile the minute he saw me and I’d smile back. The kind of smile that says everything there aren’t enough words to say. He’d kiss my forehead and we’d talk about the weather.
I drive past the cafe, shooting a hopeful glance in the window as I pass. He’s not there. I probably wouldn’t stop even if he were. Instead, I take the time to run some errands. I drive by Cameron Inc. and wonder what it would be like to walk in through the revolving glass doors of the skyscraper downtown and press the arrow next to the elevator. To wave good morning to the security guard as I walk past with my cup of coffee. To relax behind my desk and check unheard messages. I miss it. I miss being that woman, the confident one. Maybe in another life...
I finish my errands and snap out of my daydreams then go pick up Gatsby. Bastain hasn’t called once since I’ve been gone. That’s odd. He’s probably too caught up watching football to notice the time. I didn’t realize until now, but the silence of my phone has made for a peaceful afternoon.