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“What?”
“I'm really sorry about the first time we met. I really didn't mean to walk in on you like that. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable around me.”
And just when I thought I couldn’t make it any worse… “I just made it awkward, didn’t I?”
Her radiating cheeks answer for her. “Umm… a little.” Her mouth quirks into a small smile.
“Sorry. That's not what I wanted to do. Wow, I'm usually not so bad at this." Probably because I never talk this much.
This gets her to smile.
"What?" I ask, searching her eyes. Wondering what she saw in that moment. Other than my inability to hold a conversation. "Did I say something wrong again?"
“No.” She actually meets my eyes, a teasing smile on her lips. I mimic the expression. I think I just became a human being to Emma.
“Can you give me a hand?” Rachel hollers from downstairs. I check the alarm clock next to Emma’s bed, surprised by Rachel’s return. She must’ve gotten off work early.
When I step out of Emma’s room with her beside me, Rachel’s eyes tighten ever so slightly. I know that look. “Uh, hi. What are you guys up to?” I know that tone too.
“I was checking my email,” I remind her as nonplussed as possible. “Remember, you said to use Emily’s computer?”
I can feel Emma staring at me. Probably because I called her Emily. Felt as wrong to say it as it probably was to hear it. But Rachel visibly relaxes. Suspicion averted. There’s nothing to be suspicious of.
Balancing on a step stool, holding up one end of a curtain rod, I attempt to answer my phone.
“Where are you?” Jonathan asks as soon as I’m able to bring the phone to my ear.
“Stop moving it!” Collin scolds as he screws the center bracket into place.
“There’s an easier way to do this,” I tell him again. But he’s not having it.
“This is the way I’m doing it, so stand still.”
“So bossy,” I mutter.
“Sadie?” Jonathan beckons. “What are you doing?”
“Hanging curtains with Collin,” I tell him. My arm feels like it’s about to fall off.
“I thought that was tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow’s the furniture. Today’s the boxes and decorating.”
“Don’t call it that,” Collin interrupts. “I’m personalizing.”
“Whatever,” I grumble. “He’s worse than some of my mother’s pickiest clients. Where are you? I thought you were coming here.”
“I’m at your house looking for you because I thought we were going to Connecticut tomorrow.” There’s a note of agitation in his tone.
“Sorry. I don’t know how that got messed up.” I really wish he was here. This is an important moment he should be a part of.
“Did you tell him?” Jonathan asks.
“Of course not. Waiting for you.”
“Alright. So when will you be back?” Jonathan asks, letting out a breath. Is he frustrated?
“I figured I’d stay over since the furniture’s arriving sometime in the morning.” It makes the most sense. Collin’s not sure what time the moving truck’s going to arrive, considering he hired teenagers to drive it from New York. And driving two and a half hours each way is too much.
