Embracing Emma (Companion to Brisé) (11 page)

“That is part of their DNA. I’m going to have to talk to your momma. She should have warned you about this stuff.” I grin at her. “Although that girl just danced her frustration out. Not you, you confront it. That’s a good thing, though.”

“He told me to grow up.”

“There is plenty of time for that, besides you’re pretty mature. He’ll grovel shortly. Now let’s get home and have some ice cream while I cook dinner.”

“You’re staying tonight?”

“Where else would I be? I live in that house.” She looks at me like I’m crazy for asking such a question, and I open my mouth to ask her what she means, but I’m cut off by the sound of blaring horns. She’s crossed into the intersection seemingly ignoring the red light.

“Nana!”

She shakes her head, and the blank stare seems to have disappeared. “Now you know where you got your driving.” I can’t stop the laugh from escaping. Maybe she is just having an off day.

I savor the ice cream in front of me, inhaling the aroma from Nana’s cooking. When she pulled her car into the neighbor’s driveway and immediately backed out laughing, playing her error off as an old habit, I decided I need to talk to my dad about her driving. I don’t think anyone should be subjected to that anymore.

Mom and Dad come in the kitchen, and my dad automatically clicks the television to the news. My face is all I can see. Then my backside as I storm out. Then Will’s forlorn look. How the hell is this breaking news? Didn’t the Kardashians break the Internet? Someone release a sex tape? I mean it would probably be the same family, but I don’t see how I’m newsworthy.

“Luke, there is Phoebe on TV!” Nana squeals.

“Mom, that’s Emma.”

“Why is she kissing that boy? I told you Luke if you denied how you felt you’d lose her one day.”

“Mom, Phoebe is right behind you. That is Emma, our daughter.” His voice is soothing, and I see the pain shining in his eyes. My mom has tears in her eyes, and I want to know what I’m missing.

She glares at him, then her face slacks. “I know,” she mumbles as she walks back in the kitchen.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“We wanted to talk to you tonight. Nana is moving in with us. She’s been diagnosed with early Alzheimer’s.”

“No,” I manage to choke out.

“Emma, it’s very early. Don’t let her see you upset, but we have some rules and warning signs to go over with you. First, why are you on the news?”

“William signed today. With Georgia Southern. I guess it’s a big deal.”

“Oh, I’m going to kick James’s ass for not telling me,” my mom says as she grabs her phone.

“I don’t think he and Brett knew. They weren’t invited.” Their blank stares are the only response I need. I don’t feel like rehashing this again. “Can we get back to Nana?”

My dad sits down in his chair, and Mom moves to cuddle me. “No more driving.”

“Yeah, I was gonna talk to you. She picked me up today and scared me to death.”

“I don’t want to take her keys, make her feel her independence is being stripped. That is one of the worst things to do according to the therapists. So I’m going to disable it so she’ll think she is having car problems.” I nod, so he continues. “No arguing with her. You can correct her, gently, but if she is in a fit, let it be.”

“Lie to her?”

“In a sense, but she won’t know. Things won’t be bad for a bit, but she will have spells. Confrontation is the worst thing for her. She knows something is wrong, but she doesn’t know or can’t remember exactly what it is. Arguing will make her worse in the moment.”

“Whatever it takes.” The tears that have been threatening all day finally escape. “I’m going to my room.”

“Emma,” my mom calls. “It will be fine. We will be here with her every step of the way. She’s still your Nana.”

“I know.”

“And he still loves you no matter what you’re going through.”

“I know. I’m just not sure if I like his kind of love.”

“You’re both young, dealing with adult feelings with a teenage mentality. Mistakes happen no matter your age, but how you respond to them is what matters.”

“Phoebe, leave her alone.” I use that break to make my escape. I can still hear them debating my relationship. Dad thinks we are too young; Mom reminds him they were to and hiding his feelings made things worse. He says it all worked just fine, and she agrees but reminds him I’m my own person and he needs to let me find my way. I just want this day, this nightmare replaying in my head, to be over. I Google everything I can regarding Nana and what to expect. If I’m this overwhelmed reading the material, I can’t imagine what she is going through. My phone rings with Will flashing across the screen. I don’t decline it, but I let it go to voicemail anyway. As much as I need him, I’m pissed at him. Hurt, betrayed, and utterly fucking clueless. A few minutes later, my door opens.

“I know you’re pissed and don’t want to see me, but my dad told me about Nana, and I knew you needed comfort.” I don’t acknowledge him, but he takes that as encouragement and comes over to my bed. Lying behind me, he gathers me tightly in his arms. “I’m gonna hold you, and you can cry. Let it out. I’ll be here.” His words create the release I need, and before I know it, I’ve drenched his shoulder, my pillow, and the nine hundred Kleenex he’s handed me. “I’ve got you, Ems. Always.”

“Nothing is the same. I want to rewind to a year ago and relive it. I want a do over.”

“Life doesn’t allow those. We have to keep moving forward.”

“But everyone and everything I know and love is disappearing in front of me.”

“Never, baby. I’ll always be your constant. Remember that. No matter what, Ems. I love you, and I’m here.” He’s part of the problem. He must realize that. “I know things seem off right now but I promise we’ll be fine. I’ll make it all up to you, you’ll see.”

“That’s not what I want, Will. I just want you. All of you.”

“You have every piece of me, Ems. I swear.”

“Not your truths.”

“Most days I don’t even have those.” I close my eyes and begin to fall asleep to his arms holding me, creating a safe harbor from the outside forces tearing me apart. He’s holding me together at the moment. I’ll deal with the rest when everything doesn’t hurt inside of me. I shudder in his arms, and he embraces me tighter with promises he won’t keep, gentle kisses against my skin that are meant to soothe but instead set me on fire. The tranquility he tries to offer turns into turbulence that threatens to toss me overboard.

I’m breaking.

I’m drowning.

I’m holding on for dear life to the one person who can upturn my world with one gesture. One word. One glance.

Love.

It’s a free-falling descent with no safety net. No parachute. No guarantees.

Only empty promises, wishful thinking . . . and a lot of faith. Trust has to be earned, and in my short time on this earth, he has earned every smile I’ve given him, each tear I shed over him. Each whispered word of love; every ounce of pride I’ve shown him has been rightfully his.

Circumstances change. We all evolve. We struggle to find our place in this world we need to succeed in. The vortex that is threatening our safe haven is challenging, but I’m determined to stand and fight all the obstacles and hope I don’t get swept away and lost.

Without him, I’m a nomad.

A wanderer.

With him I’m part of a being. An existence of two halves that are never meant to separate.

Love.

Fickle.

Exhilarating.

Never to be taken for granted and never to inflict pain purposefully. So is this love? Earlier I wasn’t so sure, but now, in this moment, I’m basking in the warmth of it, sheltering the dark and allowing the light to filter in . . . right now, I’m positive it’s love. And I’m embracing it.

Chapter Twelve

William

Each day she hangs on by a thread. She portrays a good front, but the news of her Nana scares her, and she doesn’t know how to deal. Their relationship is unique; her relationship with her parents is strong, great, a dream, but her Nana . . . Ems is like a clone of her. They are mirror images in their thoughts, beliefs, mannerisms, and it seems this has made Emma latch on to her tighter than ever. Instead of going to the dock, movies, or dates in general, she wants to spend that time with her Nana. Baking, cooking, learning every ounce of knowledge she can while the time allows it. I get it, and they both make sure to include me, but she needs a break. Needs to leave the house and let go for a bit. But explaining and implementing that thought process to the little stubborn minx is another story. So I enlisted help. Lots of help.

I hear her grumbling as she walks into her mom’s dance studio in a tizzy because she was pulled from her ice cream pie making to run the
important
documents Phoebe had requested. For weeks, she hasn’t left that house except to go to school, and it’s driving Nana crazy, but she doesn’t want to hurt Ems. Just last night she had threatened me with her delicious food, telling me if I didn’t fix this with her granddaughter, I could kiss her home cooking goodbye. She may have even issued an idle threat that my next batch of chocolate chip cookies wouldn’t have true chocolate in them.

“William, I know she’s scared, but it’s your job to reassure her. I know her world feels unstable and that girl is nothing if she isn’t orderly. Make her lose control, make her feel and live again. I’ll be here until it’s my time, and none of us know when that will be. I can’t be suffocated, and she can’t keep this up or she will lose the girl inside of her that I love so much.”

“I try Nana, but she’s stubborn.”

“Prom is coming up. Make her want to go. Remind her what it feels like to be a teenager and in love. You can do it. If not, I pity your toilet bowl after a batch of my cookies. You’ll never know when that batch will appear, and I know you won’t forego that yummy deliciousness when I put it in front of you.”

“You don’t play fair.”

“This isn’t a game, this is my family. I will do whatever I have to do in the time I have left to leave it intact.”

“You have a plan?”

“You bet your fine looking ass I do. Come sit down, and I’ll share.”

And here we are, and I’m hoping it all works as Nana plotted. That woman needs to get off YouTube.

“MOM!” Her voice holds a hint of irritation. I hide my smile because nerves are taking over. I’m huddled behind a rack of costumes in the last dance studio waiting for her to appear so my plan will come to fruition. Right now a few dancers from the seven-year-old class will be handing her one of eleven roses. They will lead her a few steps and another rose will be placed in her hands as she follows the maze we’ve created.

“What the . . .” she trails off, conscious of little ears around her. As soon as she turns the knob ‘Suit and Tie’ by Justin Timberlake fills the air. She walks in, and the lights illuminate a myriad of dancers. I can see her face from my vantage point, and her mouth is hanging open, her eyes searching for additional clues as to what she has walked into. After a few lyrics, more dancers join in, performing just for her. Luke joins them, and she bends at the waist with his rendition of JT’s moves; it doesn’t fair too well for him, but the laughter along with the smile stretched across her face is more than we could have asked for. He continues his ministrations across the floor, embarrassing himself as Phoebe takes center stage.

Watching her flawless movements and remembering Em in this same studio is nothing short of weird science. You stand in stupor and adoration watching Phoebe move across the floor, it becoming an extension of her, yet Em can’t walk and chew gum at the same time. As the song nears the end, they all crowd her spinning and blocking her view as I take center stage. I have the last rose with a sign reading ‘PROM?’ I watch as they move one by one until I’m staring at the girl who owns me, the one for whom I strive to be a better person. Every mistake I make, each time I falter and stumble, I pick myself up knowing she is my end game. My home.

My stare never leaves her. I watch as her nose crinkles, her feet shuffling in her own little dance. Her eyes light up and her smile is genuine. “Well?” I ask the million-dollar question.

“Yes.” Her eyes emit happiness, fill with tears, and her voice is a mere whisper. I hand her the last rose, pick her up, spin and roar with elation. I see Nana watching all from the door, she was able to witness this because my parents snuck her in after Emma got here. Her disease is unknown; time, rate of acceleration, her mind and her demeanor can change in an instant. She is just as scared as her family. Not knowing if she will be here to see Em get married, or if she is will she remember it? Those questions and doubts plague her daily; she suffers in silence making sure her family is taken care of while she is able to do it. It’s not fair, none of this is, but being able to give them both this moment, this memory to cherish for as long as they can, is just a small part of what I can do. What I want to do.

The strain has dispersed, tension eased as I let my girl go, and she walks into Nana’s arms. “Thank you,” the old prankster mouths. I gave her something to hold on to, something fresh in her mind, and she will remember it as long as she is able. I know one day this memory will escape her. Hell, who we are may be erased from her mind, but I know she will always know us in her heart. That’s Emma’s biggest fear— to be unrecognizable to the woman she sees so much of herself in. Losing a major part of her will cause her to be invisible to us all, and I will work my hardest to get her over that, through it, and recreate as many moments in time as I’m able.