Mentally slapping myself for my dickish thoughts, I asked, “Why? Why that armoire?”
“It’s silly ... but it looks like it’s begging for memories, to be filled with a lifetime of good times, maybe a few sad moments thrown in. Don’t get me wrong, I had a great childhood, and my dad did what he could. We didn’t go to Disney World or the Grand Canyon. I didn’t have big birthday parties or sleepovers with a bunch of girls doing makeup. We lived at the beach, and we’d fly kites or go go-karting. We’d eat crabs in the summer and makes s’mores over a campfire down by the shore.”
“Sounds like you have some pretty damn good memories.”
She gave me a small smile, but her eyes held that tinge of sadness I’d seen before. I could tell she wanted to know her mom, make memories with her, and fill that damn cabinet with pictures and mementos. I recognized it because I’d dreamed about meeting my dad for years, and now I had. And we weren’t making any fucking memories.
“Huh. I’ve never been to Disney World either. Wasn’t high on the list for my family. I’ve also never been to the Grand Canyon. Do you think it’s scary being at the top? You know what? Don’t answer. Let’s just go there.” I downed the rest of my bourbon and leaned back in my chair, watching her cheeks pink up.
“We just met. We can’t go away together.”
“Why not? I’m nice, safe ... and I have a black Amex card,” I teased, winking.
“I wasn’t even allowed to spend the night with my high school boyfriend. Now I’m going to jet off to a different state, a different time zone, with a guy? My dad would freak.”
“What about Robby?” I leaned forward, his name coming out with a small snarl. “Would he freak?”
After taking a long sip of her coffee, Emerson said, “About that. We’re over. I guess it’s good we never really started. Apparently, I’m an embarrassment to him. I guess you were right ... he wasn’t confused over me. It seems my not going to school is a deal breaker where he’s concerned.”
“Can’t say I’m upset.” I paused, knowing I had to be slightly more transparent. “Listen, I have to be honest with you—”
“Look, I’m sure you have someone else. I mean, why wouldn’t you?” Refusing to look at me, Emerson traced patterns on the tablecloth with her finger.
“I don’t. I thought I did. I don’t want to lie. I had a life before being plucked out of it and dropped here. I worked, I dated a girl named Moira, and I had plans to make that my life for many years. Being here wasn’t my choice, and I was mad in the beginning, but it’s starting to look better. I do like my classes, and you. Moira and I, we had an arrangement to date other people. She’s dating, I’m dating, and now—we’ve called things off altogether.”
Emerson was still staring at the table, making it hard to read her.
“Look at me, say something,” I said softly.
“Is that the truth?” She lifted her gaze, her eyes wide open and vulnerable.
“It is. Honestly, she didn’t want me anymore. She said I’m never coming back from this adventure, and maybe she’s right. Maybe I was fooling myself, thinking I’d go back. But I can’t sit around and live off some other dude’s money forever. Which is why we have to go see Mickey soon.”
This got me a giggle, and I released a relieved breath.
Emerson eyed me over her coffee cup. “So, what are we? Dating?”
“Definitely,” I said. “Want to get out of here?”
Biting her bottom lip, she stared at me with eyes the size of coasters.
“Not for that,” I told her. “Let’s just go walk and enjoy the night.”
She nodded and I took her hand, leading her out into the summer night, the air heavy with humidity and promise. For the first time since my father rolled up to my house in that limo, I felt grateful for his generosity.
My phone rang on Tuesday as I was leaving class. The end of the summer term was near, and after our date on Friday, I’d spent the remainder of the weekend studying for a series of exams.
Em worked a double on Saturday and picked up a shift at the restaurant on Sunday, so she had to cancel our plans to get a dog. Which, admittedly, was a little nuts on my part.
But I was homesick, and a four-legged friend would definitely ease the ache.
“Hello,” I said into the phone, walking down the street, knowing exactly who it was.My father.
“Price, how are you? How’s school going?”
“Good.”
“Look, I’m sorry that I haven’t been around. I have some personal stuff going on, plus I’m selling off a business—”
