Six Months Later
THATCHER
"Just try your best to relax," Emma says, standing behind the couch and rubbing my shoulders. I have restless legs and can't settle my hands. This day is so intense. I look around the industrial loft we just renovated so Emma and I could finally move in together. I found a fantastic building in Emma's neighborhood that met all our needs--she can still walk to work, I have a studio for my furnace and kilns, and we have lots of space for her to set up a home office.
Emma slides open one of the glass panels I made to separate different areas of the loft. In doing so, she lets in more light and I can see how hard she's worked to set things up for today. "You bought more chairs?" I ask, noticing that she's arranging comfortable seats around small tables with fresh flowers. Emma nods and dusts off her hands.
"I think we're ready. Alice should be here soon with all the food." I nod and Emma kisses my cheek just as we hear the groaning sound of the old elevator bringing up my siblings. Tim and Ty look about as relaxed as me, which is to say they're stiff and sort of grey.
Today, we're going to introduce our father to our families. Throughout his time in rehab, he leveled out his antidepressant medication and went through intensive therapy to both face his grief and begin atoning for his choices. We all started receiving packages--birthday and Christmas cards to symbolize all those holidays he missed since our mother died. Letters expressing his regret that he missed all of our important milestones by allowing his grief be more important than our needs. We don't know if his liver has recovered enough to keep him healthy, but he's been sober for six months and we all agreed to have him over after we met with him a few times at his rehab. It's been hard emotionally, but I've had Emma by my side the whole time.
Living with her really feels as seamless as breathing. Suddenly I had someone to come home to every night, an inspiration for my work, someone to collaborate with for ideas and challenges. I always thought it would be so much work for little reward to give myself to a woman, but Emma is my partner in every way. Hell, she's in the middle of a huge investigative story, but she set aside time this weekend to support me and my family. She reminds me every day that she's not going anywhere, and I trust her. I love the hell out of her, and I can see that she loves me right back.
Petey squirms out of Tim's arms and runs over and climbs in my lap. I hold him tight, rubbing his warm, sticky cheek against my own. Normally we have all our family dinners at Tim and Alice's place, but everyone agreed it was better to have this first meeting at a more neutral space. I sigh and stand, slinging Petey up onto my shoulders. I hear the elevator start to move again, and my breath catches in my chest.
Emma reaches up on tip-toe to kiss my cheek and squeezes my hand. "You can do hard things, Thatcher Stag," she says, looking into my eyes with those emerald orbs of hers. "I'm right here by your side and I love you."
"I love you, too, Chezz," I say. And knowing that helps me feel strong.
When she opens the door to my father, she isn't awkward or timid. She pulls him in for a quick hug and says, "Ted, hi. I'm Emma Cheswick, Thatcher's fiancé. We're so glad to have you here in our home."
THE END