Embracing Emma (Companion to Brisé) (2 page)

I just bob my head up and down and allow the smile to make my cheeks ache. The drive home is quick, and I sneak upstairs as soon as my daddy starts kissing my momma. It happens so often. My parents are the poster children for PDA. Before I can dash out the back door to meet William, my daddy grabs me and throws me up in the air. “Hey peanut, where you heading?”

“Fishing.” I point to my pole I dropped when he hoisted me above his head.

“I should have known.” His warm chuckle fills me with love. “Be careful. And be home before dark.”

“Yes, sir.”

“William is going to be there, right?”

“Of course.”

He chuckles again. “Nana is coming for dinner so see if that boy wants to come over. She loves him and now that she isn’t so close, she misses you both.”

“He’ll be here.”

Since my papa died last year, the house was too much for Nana to keep up, so she moved to some old folks home to live. I hate not being able to walk next door whenever I want to see her. We live in the house my momma grew up in, and it’s next door to where my daddy grew up, too. I didn’t meet my grandparents on my mom’s side; they died before I was born. I’ve heard stories, seen pictures, but it’s not the same. My nana, though, she has always had my back. I wasn't the princess in the ballerina outfit, but I was Papa’s and her princess. She loves to spoil me, and I love to be spoiled.

Seeing the photos and video of my momma is the best. I don’t hate watching her dance; I just hate performing. She was a beautiful dancer, traveled and performed with the best company, but as she says, ‘My heart was here, with your daddy.’

My daddy says, ‘Twinkle, that isn’t exactly true, but Peanut is too young still.’ I don’t care; I just love my parents and my uncles, Brett and James, William’s fathers. Non-traditional is the word I’ve heard to describe them, but it’s the only way we’ve ever been, and it works. They live across the street, so my parents have their best friends, and I have mine.

I don’t remember the day William and I met. I was six months old, and he was a little over two when they adopted him. To hear them tell it, they saw his picture and knew he was their son. We’ve seen the pictures, heard the stories, but we’ve always had this bond. We each have other friends, but we gravitate towards each other. Our parents say we are the flip to each other’s flop. I don’t care how or why, but I know he’s my best friend, and lately I think I have my first crush.

On him.

I hurry to the lake at the back of our neighborhood and see him standing at the end of the dock. He’s not alone . . . tweedledee and tweedledum are here. Brian and Seth…the troublemakers from the end of the street. My mom calls them menaces, and my dad uses a word that is quickly smothered by Mom’s hand, so I couldn’t understand it. They are twins and look nothing alike, but their personalities are identical. Mean. They’re just stupid.

“Look here, Will.” I hate when they call him that; I’m the only one who shortens his name. It’s mine and I don’t share anything about him. “Emma the Great is here.” I hate that nickname as well.

I roll my eyes and ignore them, but William doesn’t. “Don’t call her that. She hates it.”

“Oh, is little Emma gonna go cry to Mommy and Daddy?”

Before I can respond, William steps in front of them. “Knock it off.”

“At least Emma has a Mommy and Daddy.” Seth sneers at William. I don’t think, I just charge forward and push him in the lake. He comes up sputtering more insults and threats, but I don’t hear a word. Instead, I’m staring at William’s face. The confusion, hurt, and shame wash over him. He looks to me, and I can see the tears on the brim of his eyes, close to spilling out.

That day set our path. It wasn’t all cut and dry; in fact, it was very hazy over the years, and there were times I thought we would muddle through.

But we didn’t.

Chapter Two

William

She’s beautiful. I get butterflies in my stomach every time she walks up to me. Summer will come to an end, and we will be in different schools for the first time. It makes me sick to think about it. I’ll be off to middle school, and she’s still in elementary. I used to find her in class, during assemblies . . . usually I didn’t have to look too far because she was next to me, but I watch her, and it never gets old. I study the way she pushes her hair behind her ear, or her glasses up her nose—glasses she hates, but I love. They make her eyes stand out, and I can tell everything she’s thinking in one glance. I won’t have that next year, and I worry about her. We run in different circles, but it works for the most part. I’m with the football team, or ‘jocks’ while she is a friend to almost everyone. She doesn’t have a clique and fits in everywhere but my circle. I hate it, but I’ve never let it hinder our relationship. Emma Nichols has been in my life as long as I can remember, and nothing or nobody will change it. She gets annoyed with the attitude of most of my friends, and I can’t blame her, but my desire to fit in outweighs her concerns. I tried to bring her more into my world, suggested she try out for cheerleading. She laughed in my face. I knew it was a long shot, but I just need all the tension in our relationship removed. The distance is starting to show and crack our foundation. I don’t know what will happen when we don’t get to spend every day together. No walking to the bus stop together, no doing homework together. Everything is changing, and it’s causing me to hang on to her tighter. At twelve years old, I’ve always been the kid who thinks too much, doesn’t always enjoy what’s in front of him because I’m afraid of it being ripped away. I overheard the social worker tell my parents that it stems from the years in the orphanage. I may not remember them well, but they left an impression in my psyche. I studied what she meant by that, and I wanted to prove her wrong, but I haven’t been able to.

“Emma.” I push her behind me not knowing how Seth and Brian will react to her stunt. I look over my shoulder to meet her eyes. “That was so stupid.”

“Don’t call me stupid, William Jacobs.” Her hand resting on her hip with defiance is almost enough to make me smile. But I have to make sure there will be no retaliation.

“You need to go home.”

“No.” She’s constantly pushing limits.

“Please, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“My daddy will whoop their butts if they hurt me.”

“Yes, he will, but you’ll still be hurt. Please.” I beg.

“Come over to my house. Nana is having dinner with us and wants you there.”

“Okay…” I say through gritted teeth, just wanting her to get home. Safe.

“Be careful.”

“Go.” I’m trying not to yell at her, but Brian is helping Seth out of the water, and I know they will want revenge and won’t care if it’s against a girl almost two years younger than them.

I hear her grab her stuff and the twigs breaking under her feet as she retreats. I sigh in relief and notice Seth and Brian with fire in their eyes walking up the dock.

“Leave her alone.”

“What are you going to do?”

I have no clue. This is foreign territory to me, but it’s been on the horizon for a while.

“Leave.Her.Alone.”

“One day you won’t be around to protect her.” I see red. I don’t remember swinging my fist, but I sure as hell feel my back slam against the hard ground, and the weight of both of them climbing over me is enough to make me gasp for air. A few punches and they get up allowing me to inhale and choke on air. “Be careful which side you pick, Will.”

I feel the blood running from my nose and watch them walk away chuckling. Sitting up hurts, and I know I’ll be in trouble for fighting, but I don’t care. They were going to hurt Emma this time, and I couldn’t let it happen. I slowly walk to the edge of the lake and splash my face with water, hoping I got rid of all the blood. Packing up my stuff, I head home. There’s a note taped to the door when I reach home,
‘Come across the street, we are all waiting on you.’
I was hoping to change and clean up first, but that’s not happening.

I leave all my stuff and walk across the street with my head hung. As soon as I open the door, Nana Nichols calls for me. “William, get over here and give me a hug. It’s been forever since I’ve had my arms around you.”

As I make my way over, she adjusts her glasses and stares. Reaching out, she tilts my face up and turns it side to side. “What happened to you?” Everyone’s attention is on me.

My dads are in front of me, Emma pushing through them, questions being shouted over one another.

“It was Seth and Brian, wasn’t it?”

“Are you okay?”

“Where does it hurt?”

“Who started it?”

A loud, piercing whistle breaks through the noise, and I peer over everyone’s heads to see Luke, Mr. Nichols, staring at me.

“Give him some space, and let him tell us what happened. First, are you okay, William?” I like Emma’s father a lot, and right now, I’ve never been so grateful for anyone.

“Yes, sir. I’m fine. Sore, but not hurt.”

He nods. “What happened?”

“Daddy, it was my fault.” Emma’s voice is sad, tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry, William.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I reassure her. I don’t like seeing her upset.

“Emma, what are you talking about?” Phoebe places an ice pack against my eye while wiping my nose with her other hand.

“It’s nothing. Just a misunderstanding.” I try to cover for her.

“No, that’s not true. Seth and Brian were at the dock, and they were saying mean things. Being stupid like always. I pushed Seth in the lake.”

“Emma,” Phoebe starts to get on her.

“Phoebe Nichols, hush,” Nana tells her.

“What else happened, son?” James takes over holding the ice pack against my face.

“Well, I know they don’t care that Emma is a girl. They would hurt her. I made her go home, and they didn’t like it.”

“So they hit you.”

“After I hit them.” Nana chuckles, and Brett steps in front of me.

“Why would you hit them?”

“They threatened Emma. Said one day I wouldn’t be there to protect her. I made sure they didn’t touch her.”

“I’m going to their house and talking to their parents.” Brett is gearing up for a hissy fit.

“No!” I look at Emma, pleading with her to help me.

“Uncle Brett, please don’t do that. It was my fault.”

“They can’t go around hitting people, Emma. Come on Brett, I’ll go with you.” Phoebe is pulling my dad to the door.

“I hit them first,” I blurt; probably not something I should remind them of.

“Everyone stop.” Luke steps forward. “Nobody is going anywhere. Let’s chalk this up to a lapse in judgment. William knows not to use his fists, and Emma, you don’t push people in water.”

“But . . .”

“No reason. Ever.” His look and tone shuts her up. I need to learn that. “Everyone go clean up for dinner.”

I turn to leave, and he holds my arm. “Give me a minute, William.” I nod at him, trembling in fear. “You leave anything out of that story?” I shake my head no. “Why did Emma push him in the water? I know my daughter is feisty, but something isn’t adding up.”

I don’t want to say it. “Nothing, sir. She was just in a mood.”

“You know I love you, but I will tan your hide if you lie to me again.”

I can’t look at him. “They were making fun of me not having parents.”

“You do have parents.” He’s confused.

“Not a
mom
and dad.” I spell it out for him.

“Shit!” he slips that word out not caring that Phoebe will smack him if she overhears him cussing. “That’s never bothered you before.”

“It doesn’t bother me now.”

“Then why’d Emma do what she did?”

I shrug my shoulders. I don’t want to admit I’m ashamed of the things my friends say. I love Brett and James. They’re the best parents I could have asked for. They gave me a home when my own mom didn’t want me, but not everyone sees us as normal, and when kids say things, I don’t know how to respond.

“I’ll talk to her. Go get washed up.” I hurry to the bathroom to escape any more questions.

I hear Nana say, “Oh boy, Luke, you’re gonna have your hands full.”

“What do you mean, Mom?”

“This has Luke and Phoebe written all over it. There wasn’t anything you two wouldn’t do for each other growing up, and your little girl has a crush on that young man. I’d wager to say the feelings are mutual.”

“They’re kids, Mom. Emma is only going to be ten and William almost twelve.”

“When did you know you loved Phoebe?”

“I don’t remember not loving that woman.”

“Exactly.”

I feel bad for eavesdropping but can’t help but grin. Emma Nichols has a crush on me. She appears from nowhere. “I’m so sorry. Does it hurt?”

“Nah,” I lie. “Don’t apologize. I’d do it all over again for you, Ems.”

I see her grin. “Ems?”

“Yeah.”

“I like it.”

“Good.” We stand in silence for a few seconds until the adults holler for us to come eat.