Emma

 

Emma hadn’t known where she was going when she left her apartment, only that she needed to get out of her father’s cold white prison. Her fight with Will hadn’t helped her mood at all. She sobbed in the back seat of the yellow cab, feeling even more adrift than ever.

The cab driver didn’t appreciate her indecisiveness and after changing her mind three times about her destination, he rudely told her to get out in Brooklyn. Emma wandered from cafés to boutiques missing the days of having her own driver. Her feet were cold and wet. Louboutin boots were fashionable as hell, but definitely not designed to trudge through the slushy winter sidewalks of Brooklyn.

She eventually took a cab back to Midtown and spent the rest of the day wandering the garment district, stopping at her favorite fashion houses. But shopping without her old Manhattan budget wasn’t much fun. Even if Emma had managed to swipe her father’s black card, she had a feeling it wouldn’t fix the hollow ache in her chest. So she went to church. The church of fashion that is—Mood Fabrics.

Mood was a fashion designer’s heaven on earth. A maze of rainbows and glitter, with rows upon rows of luxurious fabric bolts stacked to the ceiling, and an accessory section that sparkled brighter than the Crown Jewels. Emma used to spend hours lost among the aisles dreaming of the day she’d be in design school at Parsons and shopping here for real. She always left feeling inspired. But today, even Mood couldn’t make her smile.

She knew if she still felt dismal after spending the day in New York’s fashion mecca that it was a lost cause. Out of options, Emma hailed a cab and headed home—if that’s even what she could call her father’s new ice palace.

 

* * *

 

Emma checked her phone from the back seat of the cab. The screen was blowing up with notifications. Apparently word that she was back in town had spread through the St. James social-sphere. Everyone was asking if she was coming to Cranston’s party tonight. Even before her run in with Will this morning, she’d decided she wasn’t going. The pictures of Will and Liz still seared her heart. And Emma had no intention of witnessing their affection first hand.

She swiped to another screen on her phone. She had two missed calls from her mother. Emma sighed and decided to call her back. Her mother answered on the first ring.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

“Hi, Mom. I’m fine.”

“Really? You don’t sound fine. Are things going well with your father?”

Emma’s throat felt tight with tears. Things were definitely not going well, but Emma couldn’t tell her mother that. How could she tell her that her father was marrying Tara, the woman that ruined their marriage, because she’s pregnant? Or that his new apartment only has one extra bedroom, which belongs to the home wrecker’s son, because Emma’s own father forgot she was coming for Christmas? But more than anything, how could Emma tell her mother she just wanted to come back to Boston, because New York wasn’t home anymore?

“Everything’s fine, Mom. It’s just weird being back in New York.”

“Are you going to get to see any of your old friends?” her mother asked.

“Probably not.”

“What about Kensie?”

“No. Her family’s still in France.”

“Oh I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know you miss her. What about Will? You guys used to be so close. Do you have any plans to meet up with him?”

Emma swallowed hard. “I already did.”

“Oh that’s great, sweetie. How is he?”

“The same.”

“Emma, are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Mom.”

“So tell me, what else is new?”

“Nothing much,” Emma replied.

“Oh come on, Emma. You’ve gotta tell me something. What’s your father’s new apartment like?”

“White.”

“White?”

Emma could practically here her mother’s eyebrows arching in surprise and it made her smile and miss her even more. “Yeah. As in everything is white.”

Her mother giggled. “Well that’s something.”

“And he got a dog.”

Her mother gasped and Emma loved her for it. “No! He said he’d never get a dog.”

“He said he’d never do a lot of things,” Emma grumbled. “Like leave us.”

“Emma, sweetheart. You know your father didn’t leave you. The problems in our marriage were between us. And no matter what happens, your father still loves you very much. I know the divorce put you in the middle, and I’m sorry for that, sweetheart.”

“I love you, Mom.”

“Oh, baby, I love you too. So much. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah. I think it’s just different than I was expecting.”

“Emma, I know this is a big change, but give it a chance.”

“I will.”

“And you know you can come home anytime you want, right? No one is forcing you to spend Christmas with your father. The last thing I want is for this to be any harder on you than it is already.”

“Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you too.”