The Emi Lost & Found Series

  “I do.” Our gazes meet, and silently, without words, she communicates to me what she needs. “Okay.” I squeeze her hand.

  She slides off the pool table and leads me out of the room, up the stairs to my bedroom. “You look so tired,” she says as she removes my shirt. Her hand grazes my chin before sliding down my chest.

  “Sleeping has been difficult with the uncerta–” She interrupts me, placing her index finger over my mouth. She shakes her head. Her hand grips the back of my neck and she pulls my lips to hers.

  I let her set the pace, watch as the balance of power shifts to her, allow her to take control. I don’t make any moves without her consent. Never has she been so uninhibited with me, and never have I used such self-restraint with any woman. I surrender myself to her every request and ask for nothing in return; but Emi, never one to be selfish, orchestrates a night that leaves neither of us wanting for anything, except more of each other.

  ~ * ~

  I had hoped that our night together would be exactly what we needed to begin to move forward again. Each day that passed, though, a little more distance– a little more tension– would set in. I was so optimistic that things would change, that she would make up her mind once and for all. We were completely in sync that night, and now, we still seem to be hovering somewhere in between a few paces off and complete discord.

  But at least we’re trying... and today, Emi’s really trying.

  I knock quietly on her door, my eyes fixed midway down the hallway until she answers. “You could have used your key,” she says as she opens the door. The tension is still there, but her smile is genuine.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I will next time.” I won’t until we get past this. We had the same greeting the last two times I came over, too. “Come on, kids, let’s stop playing with the elevator!” My nieces and youngest nephew squeal and run down the hallway toward me, and eventually into Emi’s apartment.

  “Clara!” Maddie and Jackie yell when they see their friend. Emi grabs them both for hugs on the way in. Andrew hangs back, clinging to my leg, making it difficult to walk.

  Emi’s smile grows. “Thank God you got yours to wear sensible clothes,” she says, eyeing her niece, wearing shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. “I’m such a horrible role model for this one,” she says, turning her back to me.

  “No, Emi, you’re not.”

  “I was joking,” she says, a little strained.

  “Okay,” I respond nervously. I can’t seem to read her anymore. I don’t know when it’s okay to laugh and when it’s not.

  “I don’t know why Jen even included this as an option. It’s way too chilly for shorts.”

  “Look, Clara,” she says energetically, turning her attention back to her niece. “Maddie and Jackie have on jeans and jackets. Let’s go put yours on!” Clara stares at the purple hoodie that her aunt dangles in front of her, her eyes defiant but her smile playful.

  “That’s pretty,” Maddie tells Clara, old enough to know how to get the younger ones to do what you want them to do, having seen my sister plead and bargain with Jackie many times over the years. Clara nods, and I give Emi a thumbs up, patting my oldest niece on the back. Emi takes Clara into the guest room to help her change clothes.

  Andrew tugs on my pants and lifts his arms up to me. I often wish that his brother was closer in age to him. Ten years was just too much for them to have a good brotherly relationship at this point in their lives. I just remember how much my brothers and I influenced each other as kids. My youngest nephew spends most of the time with the girls and their friends. He was so shy and so emotional... and utterly sweet.

  I pick him up and kiss him on the cheek.

  “My god,” Emi says when she comes back into the living room. “He looks more and more like you every time.” Andrew definitely has a lot of my features, and is often mistaken for my son when we are out together. “How are you, little Andy?” she asks him, her voice lilting. She tickles his stomach and he giggles wildly.

  He tucks his head into my neck. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I ask her, still unsure of her decision to get all the little ones together for a picnic. I knew they’d be a handful. I half-wondered if she was doing this in an attempt to overwhelm me, convince me that we shouldn’t have kids, but I’d had years to get used to four little ones. I was a pro.

  “Yep,” she says, putting on her own jacket and scarf. I take the picnic basket from her as she carries the blanket out the door.

  Emi lays down the ground rules as I spread the blanket down on the lawn. “Okay, see that tree right there? The one by the squirrel? And then that one over there where the flowers are? You guys need to stay between those, okay?”

  “Okay,” they all say in unison, picking up the balls we had brought along and running to an open space. She sits down next to me.

  “How was your day?” I ask her, leaning in for the kiss I never got while we were in her loft. It’s a quick peck on the lips.

  “Good,” she shrugs. “Yours?”

  “Good. Maddie’s team won her soccer game, so we all went for ice cream to celebrate. And then Thomas and Kelly couldn’t wait to pack everything up and hand them off to me. Brandon’s camping this weekend, so they’ll have a rare night to themselves.”

  “Oh, they’re staying with you?” Emi asks as Andrew comes to sit behind us, playing quietly with his Batman figure.

  “Yeah, we’re going to have a movie night.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why?” I ask her. “Did you want to come over?”

  “I don’t know. I was thinking about it.”

  “You can. Don’t let them deter you, I’m sure I could use a hand.”

  “No,” she shakes her head.

  “Okay.” I don’t pressure her.

  Her eyes dart around the lawn surrounding us. Abruptly, she stands up, going quickly toward the girls. “Shit, where is Andrew?” she calls out to me, frantic.

  “He’s right here, Em,” I tell her loudly. “It’s okay. He’s just playing back here.”

  “My god,” she sighs. “I thought he...” She walks back to the blanket and sits down, putting her head in her hands.

  “Shit,” Andrew says with a giggle.

  “Shit,” Emi mumbles under her breath.

  “Andrew,” I scold my nephew. “You know that word is bad. We don’t say that word.”

  “Shit!” he repeats, louder.

  “Andrew,” my voice is more stern and I turn to face him, pick up his chin so he looks me in the eyes. “No.”

  “Sorry, Uncle Jacks,” he says, jutting out his bottom lip.

  “It’s okay. Emi,” I turn my attention to her. “We don’t say that word,” I tell her with a smile. “That’s a bad word.”

  “Sorry, Uncle Jacks,” she copies my nephew. “See, I’m not cut out for this.”

  I laugh, but realize quickly this was not the right time for laughter after seeing her glare. “Emi. Seriously? You cussed. He’s heard that word a hundred times from his dad.”

  “Not only that,” she looks away. “I can’t even keep up with one of them.” I can’t help but roll my eyes.

  “Sure you can, Emi, you’re keeping up with the other three.” It was meant to be a joke.

  “That’s not enough,” she barks at me. “Hey, Kelly,” she mock-converses with my sister. “I lost one of them, but the other two made it back safely.”

  “Emi,” I groan. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. This whole parenting thing is better done in pairs. And hey,” I wave at her, “I’m here. We could do this, together.”

  “I don’t know,” she sighs.

  “This is not something you learn overnight,” I explain. “What did you expect? We were responsible for no children yesterday. We just picked up four today. Okay, so I would recommend us not adopting quadruplets right off the bat.”

  She sighs, her attention fixed on the girls. I move to the space on the blanket behind her and begin to massage her shoulders. “
Relax.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “We don’t have to. Let’s just enjoy the afternoon and give the kids some good memories of their aunt and uncle.” She nods and leans back into my arms. I kiss her cheek as Andrew climbs into her lap.

  “Hey, little man,” she smiles, hugging him close. “You stay where I can see you, okay?” He nods vigorously, then kisses her cheek, the same one he saw me kiss moments before. “Oh,” she quietly exclaims. “You are so sweet.” She returns the kiss as he turns his attention back to his action figure.

  “What about me?” I ask.

  Her dimples show up for the first time in weeks as she pulls my face to hers and kisses my cheek. “You’re pretty sweet, too,” she whispers. “Another trait he must get from you.”

  After eating our sandwiches and cookies, the kids all collapse on the blanket around us as the sun begins to set. Their energy spent, they wind down by pointing out shapes in the clouds overhead.

  “Thanks for this,” I tell her.

  “You’re welcome,” she says back to me.

  “Alright, kiddos,” I announce. “Let’s get all your toys together and head home.” We gather up our things and begin the walk back to Emi’s loft.

  “Okay, guys,” Emi adds. “Is everyone holding someone’s hand?”

  “I don’t have one,” Maddie says, taking Emi’s free hand. She looks up and smiles. “Emi?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you going to be our aunt someday?”

  She leans down and whispers in her ear. I strain to hear her answer. “I really hope so,” she says.

  “Me, too,” Maddie responds. Emi smiles the rest of the way home, skipping with our nieces through the lobby of her building.

  After helping to put everything away, I peek in to the guest bedroom and tell the girls it’s time to go. I hug Clara goodbye before retrieving my nephew from Emi’s bed, where he had fallen asleep seconds after we got home. He doesn’t even wake up, just lays his head on my shoulder.

  “I don’t think he’ll make it through the movie,” Emi says.

  “He rarely does,” I tell her in a hushed voice. “I had a great time today, Emi. And for the record, I think you were great with them.”

  Her smile is small, but it’s a smile nonetheless. “I did figure out one thing today.”

  “What is that?”

  “I think four is too many.”

  I nod my head. “Fair enough.”

  “Bye, girls,” Emi says softly, kissing them each on the forehead. “Bye, boys.” She tenderly squeezes Andrew’s limp arm, then touches my jaw, pulling me in for a proper kiss. Brush of the lips, deeper. I lose my breath, having missed the familiar exchange.

  “Goodbye, love. Pick you up Sunday morning at eight?”

  “Chris and Anna said we needed to be there at eight, right?”

  “Right. Seven-thirty, then?”

  “Seven-thirty. Love you.”

  “Love you, too, Poppet,” I tell her, brushing her nose lightly with the tip of my finger.

  ~ * ~

  After the christening ceremony, Emi touches her nephew’s pink cheek softly. “You did so well,” she whispers to Eli. He’s bundled up in her arms, wrapped tightly in a white blanket. His lashes are still matted together from crying, but he is sound asleep, comforted by the sound of her voice. “Wanna hold him?”

  “He seems pretty content there. I don’t want to wake him.” I hope she can’t hear the frustration in my voice.

  “Okay,” she smiles. “I’ll keep him.”

  Chris and Anna bounce around, talking to all the family members and friends who came to Eli’s ceremony. Chris eventually comes to us with Donna following closely behind.

  “Emi, sweetie, how are you doing?”

  “I’m great,” Emi says. “Would you like to hold Eli?”

  “Would you mind?” she asks.

  “Elliott Nathaniel,” she whispers to the baby, “this is Nate’s mom.” Donna extends her arms to take the baby. It was important to Chris and Emi for Eli to learn about Nate, his namesake.

  “He is so beautiful,” Donna says. Emi strokes his face, and Donna sees Emi’s engagement ring for the first time. She quickly glances up at Emi, eyebrows raised, a smile breaking across her face. “Emi?”

  Emi’s face flushes red, her eyes a little uncertain. “We’re engaged,” she tells Donna. “Jack proposed at the end of May.”

  “Oh,” Donna says, her eyes filling with tears. “We’ve talked many times since May, Emily. Why didn’t you mention it?”

  “I, uh...” She hesitates as I look at her curiously, my heart falling. “I didn’t know how...”

  “Oh, Emi,” she laughs. “Don’t be silly! I’m so happy for you. Jack,” she addresses me, “congratulations. You are a lucky man.”

  “I already know,” I tell her. “Thank you. That means a lot.” My eyes wander around the room.

  “I’d hug you,” she adds, “but I don’t want to let go of this precious little boy.” Eli opens his weary eyes and wrinkles his face up, a loud wail escaping his lips. “On second thought, it’s been awhile since I’ve dealt with this,” Donna says, handing the baby back to Emi. “I’m very out of practice.”

  “I’ll be right back. I think he’s probably hungry... I think.” She smiles and shrugs, leaving Donna and I alone. She holds out her arms for a hug. I smile wearily, suddenly uneasy.

  “You know,” she begins, “I think of Emi as a daughter. I always have... even before she and Nate began dating.”

  “I will take care of her,” I assure Nate’s mother.

  “I’m sure you will,” she says. “You have always been such a gentleman, and she seems so taken with you. So happy with you. I worried about her, that she’d never recover... but she’s come so far.”

  “She has. But he’ll always be a part of her life. I could never take his place.”

  “No,” she smiles. “He was my baby. But I think you’re wonderful for her. You compliment one another. You know, Nate and Em were so alike. They both made bad decisions... both lacked a little common sense. Both so creative. They had a different relationship. They were such good... friends. Their relationship was based on that... I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know they loved each other...

  “But what I see between you, it’s just different. I know you’re friends, you have to be, but I see such adoration in her eyes, in your eyes... it’s clear that love is your foundation. It’s a beautiful thing.”

  “Thank you,” I tell her. “Like you said, I’m very lucky.”

  “Not to be nosy,” Donna hedges, “but have you two moved in together yet?”

  “No,” I answer, nervous of any questions that may follow and the answers I don’t really have. At least four of Emi’s family members had already started in on this line of questioning today, which only heightened my anxiety about our ambiguous future. “I don’t think she’s ready to give up the loft yet.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I have a comfortable townhouse that I’ve asked her to move into with me. I told her we could make any changes she needed, add a studio, whatever, but she’s insistent on staying there for now, until we get married. I mean, eventually, I hope we’ll make my house our home... when she’s ready.”

  “You know,” Donna interrupts my contemplative silence, “the loft is Emi’s, to do with it what she wants... but I’d like to know if she is going to sell it. I might know a good buyer.”

  “Of course,” I assure her, as an uncomfortable pause spreads between us.

  Breaking the silence, Donna asks, “So, when is the happy day?”

  “Oh, um,” I look at her questioningly. “Oh, the wedding date?” I feel my face heat up.

  “Yes, the wedding date,” she laughs.

  “Um...” I stall. “We haven’t decided on one yet.”

  Maybe never? Truth be told, Emi’s answer when I approached the subject before our current struggle was simply that she would ponder it an
d get back to me. She always said it, playfulness coating every word, and it never occurred to me– until the past month– that she might be procrastinating for other reasons entirely. We have been engaged for three months now, and no decisions have been made. Everything’s been put on hold. And now, talking to Nate’s mom, I grow even more insecure. Seeing her helps me put two and two together. It seems obvious now.

  “What’s keeping you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Oh, no, I don’t mind at all.” My brows furrow as I clear my throat. Well, this month, it’s the fact that she doesn’t want to have children anymore. Before that...

  “We’re still debating the pros and cons of a big wedding versus something simple... private. There’s a lot to consider, I guess.”

  What was it before she admitted her feelings to me? Maybe Emi doesn’t want to let go of your son just yet. I sigh audibly, the weight of that realization crushing my lungs.

  “Well if you decide on a big wedding, I hope you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable inviting me,” she suggests.

  “Of course we would invite you,” I assure her.

  “Well, Jackson,” she says, adjusting her handbag and smiling warmly. “It was good to see you. And congratulations to you both. Please keep me posted about the loft.”

  “I will, Donna, you have my word.”

  “Have a good night.”

  “Thank you, you too.” I think any hopes for a good night just ended about two minutes ago.

  Across the room, Emi and Chris are playing a game of keep-away with Clara’s stuffed animal. Jen stands close by and reprimands her daughter when her squeals get too loud, but Emi and her brother can’t stop laughing.

  My hands in my pockets, I quietly make my way to the exit of the church foyer and go outside. The air is crisp, the onset of autumn obvious with the beautiful orange and red leaves in the trees.

  Could she really be stalling for other reasons, too? From day one, she wouldn’t nail anything down. Is she really not... over him?

  I hate that I’m doubting her... but how can I not? She refuses to move in with me. She won’t commit to a date. She doesn’t want to raise children with me. Is this marriage going to happen? Or am I really just a placeholder for someone else... someone that she possibly did– does– love more? Someone that she was “meant to” have children with?