White is for Virgins (47 page)

The cracking in her voice made my heart hurt. I got up and walked around the table. I hugged her small, warm form and she hugged back.

She cried because she felt worthless. I cried because I missed my mom. I missed how happy we all once were.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” I assured her.

I felt like the biggest hypocrite, though.

***

After our talk, my mom decided she would go take a nap. I stayed downstairs and started cleaning; that was my thing when I was stressed – I’d tidy everything up.  I got so into sweeping and dusting that I hadn’t even heard the back door open.

“Hey, kiddo,” my dad said behind me. I jumped and turned to look at him. Mom’s suspicions replayed in my head as I scrutinized my ‘normal-looking’ father. He had a small beer-belly and stubble; his jeans were of the old Levi variety that only men from the 90s still wore. He wasn’t bald, nor did he have a full head of hair. He wasn’t tall, but he wasn’t short. He wasn’t exactly Channing Tatum, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he could get a woman if he wanted to.

My eyes watered.
What if he
is
cheating on her?

“Is everything okay?” he asked, sitting down on the couch and motioning for me to join him. I stood where I was.

“Are you cheating on Mom?”
Way to be blunt.

I studied his face as he took in my accusation. He didn’t blush; he didn’t gulp suspiciously. He didn’t avert his gaze or stutter or scratch the back of his head.

“Emery, I would never cheat on your mother,” he stated.

He didn’t answer the question with another question.

The tears came anyway, despite the fact that I believed him. He stood up and went to hug me.

“What’s this all about,
Em?” he asked, looking worried. Or maybe he looked hurt.

“It doesn’t seem like you love each other anymore. She was crying earlier basically saying she doesn’t think she can make you happy and,” I sniffed, “I don’t know, she’s never around and you never seem to be either. And you fight nonstop. It’s possible.”

“Yeah, it’s possible,” he started. “But I’m not that kind of guy, Em, and it kills me that you would even consider that. I love you and your mother; I’d never do anything to jeopardize our family.”

“You guys aren’t happy anymore.”

“We never see each other,” he explained. “When we do, she’s stressed and tired and it’s not easy to have a decent conversation because I’m in the exact same shitty mood. I wish I could help her - I feel completely useless to you guys. Nobody’s hiring, honey. It doesn’t look like they will be anytime soon.”

“You
gotta keep looking, Dad,” I said. “I hate seeing you both like this. It’s just money.”

He smirked. “That’s it exactly. Just money.”

“Mom’s sleeping right now,” I told him. “You guys have a lot to work on, Dad.”

He nodded quietly. “I just don’t know how.”

“Well, you could start small. You know… Valentine’s Day is around the corner.”

He chuckled, ruffling my hair. “You have no idea how to be subtle.”

“Hey, I was just saying, Dad.”

“Believe it or not, I was actually aware of the holiday,” he stated matter-of-factly.

I blushed. “I’m sorry Daddy, for coming at you like that.”

“It’s fine, honey,” he said, hugging me again. “Don’t worry, okay? I’m going to fix things with your mother.”

I exhaled, believing him.

“I’m
gonna go take a shower. It’s been a long day,” I sighed, heading for the stairs. I needed some major hot water therapy.

My shower ended up turning into a bubble bath. The hot water started filling the tub, brewing a mound of white bubbles as it did so. Just as my foot hovered over the water, I heard the distant ringing of my phone.

“Shit,” I hissed, wrapping a towel around my body and running to my bedroom. I prayed that the loud ringing wouldn’t wake my mom.

Originally I had planned on quickly answering and hanging up on whoever was calling, but when the caller ID read Fox the second half of my plan was soon disregarded.

“Hello?”

“Hey,
Em,” came the velvety voice.
Shoot me now.
“Everything okay? You seem winded.”

“Uh, yeah. What’s up?” I responded.

“I was gonna talk to you about Valentine’s Day,” he said.

“Oh?” My heart skipped several beats.
Valentine’s Day..? The day of love..? What of it, handsome?

“Yeah, um, Nina was suggesting we should visit the hospital and hand out carnations.”

I rolled my eyes.
Way to get excited, Emery.
“Right, right. We found someone to sell us the flowers cheap?”

“Yup.”

“Okay… so is that all?” I slowly made my way back to the bathroom. The tub was getting dangerously full. I quickly shut it off.

“Is this a bad time,
Em?” he smirked.

My cheeks colored. “Um, define ‘bad time’.”

“You busy? Getting ready for a bath or is there some other purpose for the running water?” I sensed curiosity in his tone.

“Look Fox, it’s been a long day,” I sighed. “The snowboarding beat me up, I just had some serious Dr. Phil moments with both of my parents and I want to relax. I’m not about to make small talk with you, alright? It
is
a bad time, ‘cause I’m ready to hop into my tub. What do you want?”

It was silent for a moment.

“So… does that mean you’re naked right now?”

“Ugh! Goodbye, Fox,” I growled, stepping into the tub and easing into the hot water.

“Oh my God, you are! Aren’t y–”

I pressed the red button and discarded my phone onto the towel by the tub. Surprised at how honest I had just been with Fox, I merged my head under water for a bit.

When I came back up sputtering, I groaned.

“Why does he have to be so hot?” I murmured to myself, wiping the bubbles from my eyes.

Chapter 30

“Roses are red, Asphalt is black,” Fox said, palm-steering the car at an intersection. “Why is your chest as flat as my back?”

I momentarily frowned, self-consciously looking down at the V-neckline of my blood red long-sleeved shirt. This made him chuckle. I had no choice but to retaliate.

“Dimes are silver, pennies are brass,” I said with a straight face, puffing my apparently non-existent chest out, “Why does your face look like your a–”

“Em,” he interrupted with a warning tone, “Don’t corrupt my sister.”

We both looked at each other as the car stopped at a red light and laughed at our own stupidity. Holly joined in for no reason, flashing her two-and-a-half pearly little teeth.

“Admit it – I won,” I smirked. Then I sneezed.

“Bless you. And
not even
,” he grinned, “If anything you complimented me. I’d say both my face and my lower backside are pretty equally amazing features.”

I rolled my eyes; kept my mouth shut.

We had been playing this rhyming game for almost the entire ride to hospital, Fox and I. Holly was accompanying us, and was currently salivating over her heart-shaped lollipop in the backseat. Nina was driving the van full of flowers behind us.

It wasn’t long before we were unpacking the buckets of colorful carnations by the back entrance of the hospital. Holly took special interest in a yellow one, squeezing the petals with her chubby fingers. I broke the stem and slid the flower into her hair. I let her see her new accessory, lifting her to the van’s black reflective window. She clapped her hands.

“Come on, ladies,” Nina called, pushing a cart full of flowers through the automatic doors. She noticed Fox’s questioning eyebrows and added, “And gentleman.”

He flashed his signature white smile, grabbing the other cart and preparing to push it forward. I cleared some space on it and sat Holly down among the flowers. I sneezed again, twice this time. Fox smirked and slowly followed Nina to the main lobby.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” was the phrase of the day – or most of it. Of course, Holly’s alternative: “Habby Val’time’s Day!”, was also pretty prevalent. 

We gave flowers to just about everyone. Secretaries, sales clerks, doctors, nurses, janitors, and patients.

Little kids were running around the hallways with their flowers and little bags of chocolate; secretaries were blushing as Fox suavely handed out carnations. I tried not to stare as he worked his charm, focusing instead on the patients.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” I said softly to a woman in the ICU that was sleeping. I placed a pink and white flower on her stomach in between her small white hands and made my way to the next room.

I saw an old woman sadly march out of a room and out of sight; she had been crying. I figured she was going to the bathroom or to speak with a doctor. Quickly, I went the room from which she’d exited and placed a violet carnation on the sleeping old man in the same fashion as all the other sleeping patients. He had on a breathing mask, and a plethora of machines were attached to him all lighting up in various ways and emitting a number of different sounds. I assumed he was either a brother or husband of the woman who’d left the room and felt extremely sad that he lacked the ability to give her a flower himself. I placed another one on the seat beside him for when she returned.