THATCHER
While Emma sleeps, I pace her living room. I try to sketch out some ideas in my notebook, but I keep thinking back to my father in that bed. Dying, he said. How many times had I prayed for him to just go on and die? To be finally and definitely gone from our lives versus choosing to leave us for some other sort of life?
I'm itching to get back in my studio, but my family would give me endless shit if I left Emma here after having a seizure. When Alice texts me that she's outside with some food, I leap up and open the door so quickly, it startles her.
"Hey, sorry about that." I pull the takeout containers from her before she drops them. "Want to come in?" Should I be inviting Alice into Emma's house? I don't really know the etiquette for fake-fiancé personal space.
"Just for a minute," Alice says. "I want to write down info about the food for Emma."
Alice pulls out a notepad and starts taking notes on each container. She seems to have brought an entire week's worth of meals, all sorted and arranged. "Jesus, Alice. This is so much food!"
Alice nods. "Don't you eat a bite of it, either. It's not for you. Hands off." Alice has baggies of herbs and toppings for tacos, fresh bread to go with soup, chicken parm with sauce in a separate container and..."Alice! Did you make pasta from scratch today?"
"Yes. I'm writing Emma a note that she should probably eat the noodles first. They'll be really good today. Let me tell you, Juniper really enjoyed those at lunch! The Stag Law staff all ate very well today." Alice finishes her manual of notes and sighs, smiling.
"Ok, I have to get back to the office. I want to give Petey a squeeze, but I wanted to talk with you about this weekend."
"This weekend?"
Alice rolls her eyes at me. "Do you ever open your computer? There was a whole email chain."
"Who was on the chain?"
Alice bites her lip. "Well, it was mostly me and Juniper and Ty. But you and Tim were included, I swear! And if you give me Emma's email I can loop her in."
"Loop her into what, Alice?"
"Ty and Juniper wanted a Stag Weekend. Instead of a bachelor party or bachelorette party? Get it--Stag? Thatcher, I absolutely know you were with us when we started planning…anyway! Obviously Emma is invited, but I wanted to find out from you if she would be feeling up to going."
I'm about to tell Alice Emma will, in fact, not feel up to a weekend away with the Stag clan, which means I should probably stay home with her to help her "recuperate," when a woman with voluminous blond waves, stiletto heels, and an impeccable manicure opens the door to Emma's apartment.
"Well, well, well," she says, looking at me. "So it is true." The woman tosses a cardigan over one of the stools at Emma's counter and then stands in a model pose in the middle of the room, crossing her arms and glaring at me. Alice looks back and forth between us, speechless for the first time since I met her.
"Can I help you?" I have to tread lightly here, because I have no idea who this woman is but can't let Alice know that Emma and I are basically strangers.
"When Mom called me hysterical crying because Emma is apparently engaged to a 'street fighter,' I had to come see for myself what all the commotion was. I am going to murder her just as soon as she gets her ass out here. She knew I was planning to announce my engagement to Logan this weekend! She just had to steal my thunder. As per usual."
Alice raises an eyebrow and opens her mouth to speak. I can tell she's about to launch into defense mode, so I place my hand on her shoulder. "Hey, Al, why don't you go back to work and hug your baby and let me handle this, ok? I'll call you when Emma wakes up and we will talk about the weekend." I usher Alice out the door. I'm pretty used to this sort of treatment from "upstanding" citizens. Sure, they all want a piece of my rogue artwork for their great room, because some critic called my glass "haunting and de rigueur." But none of them want to mingle with me outside of a gallery space. Which is fine with me, because these people drive me crazy.
I close the door behind my sister-in-law and stand opposite the intruder. "I assume you're the perfect sister?"
She snorts and flings her hair back over one shoulder. "I'm Veronica Cheswick, yes. And don't think I didn't Google you. I know you were seen last week, leaving a club with a woman who was not my sister, so don't feed me some bullshit line about being desperately in love with Emma. What's your game, Stag? Why is she set on spoiling my engagement announcement?"
I am taken aback to realize other people look at pictures of me online, leaving clubs with the women I fuck. What the hell else is out there about me in cyberspace? Alice is right--I need to open my computer more often. I pull it together, though, and retort to Veronica. "I can assure you Emma had no intention of spoiling your engagement announcement. She and I have kept our relationship on the D-L because, as I'm sure you saw during your research, my own brother is getting married and neither of us wanted to take away from his moment."
I can tell Veronica doesn't buy it entirely, but she starts tapping her foot and looks around. "Where is my sister, anyway?"
"She's in bed," I say, and then, feeling bold, I add, "where the hell does she usually go after a seizure?"
Veronica sighs, and a look of concern crosses her face. "She hasn't had a big one for awhile," she says, her voice quiet. "Mom is hysterical, and deflecting by freaking out about how it will look if Emma marries someone with tattoos and facial piercings."
"What the hell does anyone care how it looks if Emma's happy?"
This pulls a laugh from Veronica. "Oh, my. Thatcher Stag, you have a lot to learn about the Cheswick family." She picks up her sweater. "Tell Emma I stopped by and please have her call me when she's out of her fog." Veronica heads back out the door. At the last minute, she turns around and says, "She gets really, really sore after a big seizure. I brought her some Tiger Balm." She hands me the tiny tin of ointment and clacks out of Emma's apartment.
When Veronica leaves, I exhale deeply and sink into the couch. This tiny lie to get my brother off my back is becoming a huge, heavy web of confusion. I just want to get back to my life where I spend my afternoons creating amazing fucking artwork, my nights partying hard, and my mornings sleeping it all off. I am grateful to Veronica for at least distracting me from my father for a few minutes.
Thinking on what she said as she left, I text Juniper to ask if she knows any massage therapists who make house calls. I figure if I'm about to spring a weekend out of town with my family on Emma, the least I can do is butter her up first. I set up an appointment for tomorrow afternoon and then I decide it's been too long since I slept. I kick back onto Emma's couch and fall asleep in seconds.