When Autumn Leaves: A Novel (13 page)

A couple of blocks from where Ana lay with her thoughts spinning, Finn Emmerling slept in the narrow confines of his daughter’s bed. Janey had cried out in the night, often enough to make Finn wonder if she knew somehow his own frenzied mind. She was comforted by his presence beside her, and he found himself able to sleep in a way he never could have if he had shared his wife’s bed.

Janey began her morning dialogue, a hybrid of singing and talking that pulled Finn slowly away from his dreams. With the one eye he had open, he saw her calmly sitting up, conversing with the air. Maybe she did see someone, or something.

“Morning, Janey girl,” Finn said, running a hand over her hair.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“You hungry? Want some breakfast?” Finn heaved himself out of the bed and picked up his small daughter.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then.”

“Mom!! There’s nothing but gross grown-up cereal left,” Ana’s son whined. “I thought you said you were going to the grocery store. Mom? Hello? Can you hear me? I said—”

“I heard you, Russ. I’m sorry, I didn’t get a chance to go to the store yesterday, but somehow I think you’ll live,” said Ana, feeling the sleepless night weigh heavily on her limbs.

“What am I supposed to eat for breakfast?”

“Suck it up, Russ. A little bran won’t hurt you.” Ana pulled the cereal box from the cupboard, poured some in a bowl, then plunked the milk down in front of him. He was very particular about how much milk he liked in his cereal, and needed to pour it himself each morning.

The look on Russ’s face worried Ana. She knew she wasn’t being very nice, and the added guilt was enough to make her want to bury her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to be so crabby. I just didn’t sleep well, that’s all. You can go to the store with your dad today and get whatever you like, okay?”

“Okay,” Russ said with a shrug.

“So you know I’m going to be gone today, right?”

“Dad says you’re going to Autumn’s to do girly stuff.”

“That’s true. I don’t think it would be anything you’d be interested in.”

“Naw,” said Russ, his mouth full of cereal.

Jacob walked in the kitchen wearing an old pair of jeans and an even older sweatshirt. “Morning, guys,” he said. He pulled a mug from the cupboard and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Jeez, Annie, you don’t look so good. Guess it’s a good day to ‘nurture the woman within,’ huh?”

Ana smiled. Her husband always made her laugh. She had told him the truth, mostly. Autumn was sponsoring a woman’s Beltane Day. For the most part, it was a morning of meditation and discussions, and an afternoon of total pampering. The women would be indulging in facials, massages, and manicures, a complete day of taking care of the mind, body, and spirit. Ana was going to be spending the night at Autumn’s, that much was true. She had not, of course, divulged just who she was going to be spending the night there with.

“Maybe you two could go down to the maypole at Brigid’s Square, what do you think?” asked Ana.

“Great minds, my love. I was just thinking the same thing. What time are you going to head out?” Jacob sat at the table beside her.

“Actually, things are about to start over there,” Ana said, standing and stretching. “I’m gonna go throw some stuff in a bag and get moving.”

“Okay,” said Jacob, who had begun to read the paper.

Ana looked at her son and husband. The guilt was visceral and exhausting, a different kind of tired than lack of sleep. It almost immobilized her, but she knew that this was something that she had to do. In fact, she felt in some way that she was doing it for her family, because the crazy way she felt was beginning to eat away at the very core of who she was. Before this option had been presented to her, she had been ready to run away and leave them both behind.

Ana shook her head and went up the stairs to her room. She pulled the Lone Star quilt up over her bed hastily and kicked the clothes on the floor to one corner. She threw things into her overnight bag without thinking. She couldn’t name one single possession that could prepare her for what was about to happen.

As she changed clothes, Ana took a long look at her naked reflection. She wasn’t old, not nearly, and she had had Russ so young that her body held little evidence she had ever been pregnant. She wasn’t a tall woman, but she never felt short. Ana was a natural beauty, looking her best when she wasn’t trying to at all. Her chestnut hair framed her face in a long bob. Her brown eyes had flecks of other less common colors, and her freckles made her look much younger than she actually was. She was happy with the way she looked. In fact, she thought she looked better even than when she was in her twenties. But maybe that was because she simply liked herself more, knew herself better. That made all the difference. She dressed simply in a pair of wheat-colored linen pants and a white T-shirt and slipped on a pair of flip-flops. In the living room, Jacob was still reading the paper on the couch and Russ was watching TV.

“Okay, guys, I’m out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow, ’kay?” Ana leaned over and kissed Jacob’s head.

“Bye, honey. Have fun. And don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine. Won’t we, Russ?”

“Yep,” said Russ, engrossed in his program.

“I’ll miss you tonight. Can I have a hug?”

Russell made one of his notoriously horrified faces but got up and gave his mother a hug anyway. “Bye, sweetie. And not too much TV, okay? I mean it. Thank you, Jacob, for taking over. I’ll see you both tomorrow!”

“Yeah, and please, try not to let missing us too much get in the way of enjoying your massage, all right?”

“Tough one, but I’ll try.” Ana smiled and walked out the door. She climbed in her car and started the engine.

There is no such thing as spontaneity when a two-year-old is involved. Ginny Emmerling, Finn’s wife, had prepared as much as possible in the days leading up to the trip to her parents’ house. She had made a list, but she still had to gather and pack everything on it. Ginny raced around the house with Janey in one arm, muttering things to herself. Ginny always got very stressed out when she was going to visit her parents. Her anxiety baffled Finn. He couldn’t imagine that after all these years, after all the time they spent treating her with such complete indifference, Ginny still cared about keeping up appearances. Whenever he tried to say this to his wife, though, she simply rolled her eyes.

“Gin, why don’t you at least give Janey to me? Are you trying to make things harder for yourself?” She stopped momentarily and swung around to glare at him. “What? I’m only saying that this would be a lot easier if you’d just let me help you.”

Ginny spared him one pitiful moment in her neck-breaking flurry. “You know how there are those couples who just instinctively know what the other half of that couple needs? The ones who finish each other’s sentences, read each other’s minds?”

“I guess,” Finn said, noncommittally. But he did know, he knew exactly what she was talking about.

“Well, you and I aren’t like that. By the time I finish explaining what needs to be done, I might as well have done it myself.”

“Fine,” said Finn, throwing his hands up to the air. “But seriously, give me Janey. I’ll entertain her until it’s time for you to go.”

Ginny gave him a look, then dumped their daughter in his arms. Why she was trying to start an argument, he had no idea, but he did know he wasn’t about to buy into it. Not today.

He took Janey up to her room and read some stories to her. Then she made him dress her Barbie in at least a dozen different outfits. He tried to stay focused on his daughter; after all, he wasn’t going to be seeing her for the next five days. But his mind wandered despite his efforts.

Finn wasn’t at all sure he liked the idea of what was going to happen tonight. But he knew that he wasn’t ready to leave Ginny, not yet, no matter how much he wanted to. She depended on him too much. Her fragility was tangible, something she wore. He felt responsible for her, and no matter how unhealthy that was, he could see no way to change it.

“Look, Daddy! The sun!” Janey said, pointing to a picture in one of her books, bringing him back from his day-dreaming. He would figure it out in time, because, after all, Finn Emmerling was a patient man.

When Ginny was ready, Finn helped his wife bring two suitcases down the stairs and out to the car. It seemed like a lot to bring for such a short trip, but he knew most of what was inside was diapers, books, and toys for Janey. The bags were heavy enough that Finn was a little short of breath when he finally got them into the car. Ginny, meanwhile, settled Janey into her car seat. He heard the buckle snap and the familiar tug on the belts as his wife double-checked that she was strapped in safely.

“Okay, well, I’m off. You have the numbers if you need to reach us, and I’ll be on the cell if you need me before we get there,” Ginny said, still somewhat frazzled from her hectic morning. “Oh, and don’t forget, the painters are coming tomorrow afternoon to give us an estimate on the kitchen cabinets. I’m sure I’m forgetting something . . . Oh well, it must not be that important.”

“I can send anything you may have forgotten if you really need it.”

“Right. Well, bye,” Ginny said, giving him a restrained hug.

Finn hugged her back and kissed her on the cheek. “Bye, Gin. Have a safe drive. Make sure you call when you get there.” She smiled at him briefly, as though she wanted to say something more. Instead, she quickly got into the car. She turned the ignition and backed up slowly out of the drive, leaving Finn alone on the pavement to watch the car make a slow and steady progress southwards.

Ana did not turn on the radio, but she did roll the windows down, letting the cross breeze ruffle her hair. Finn was stuck on her tongue, in her mouth; she whispered his name to herself. Ever since Ana had met Finn Emmerling, when he was picking up his two-year-old from day care at her school, time itself seemed to slip sideways and the air around her was sucked into some kind of cosmic vacuum, leaving her little oxygen to breathe. She was sure everyone in the room must have caught it: at thirty-three years old, after a happy if not eventful marriage, a solid career, years of raising a young son, a life, full and steady; after all of this, after Ana was sure she understood the path her choices so far had made for her, she had met her soul mate.

There was awkwardness in those first few moments, but as soon as she began to talk to Finn, all the awkwardness disappeared. It was as if she had always known him, like they were picking up a conversation they had just been having. He certainly was handsome: a wild mass of Byronic hair; skin that held onto a bit of long-lost Mediterranean heritage with a tinge of olive even after a full stretch of winter; tall, but not overly so, broad and muscled, which Ana soon discovered was a product of his constant physical labor at the nursery. But it was more than that, it went deeper than his skin. If she had to describe it, she would have had to say that from the moment she laid eyes on Finn, a thread of her very being, strung from the core of who she was, escaped from her belly and connected itself to Finn’s chest. From that time on, she always had a sense of him, where he was and what he was feeling. Eventually she would learn that Finn, too, had experienced something similar.