The Emi Lost & Found Series

  “Is there toast?” Emi asks.

  “¿Tiene usted alguna pan tostadas con mantequilla?” I ask when Javier comes into the room. Emi looks at me, stunned. “What?” I ask her with a smile, knowing exactly why she looks so perplexed.

  “Puedo preparar pan tostadas, si lo desea. ¿Hay algo más que te gustaría? Los huevos o tocino?”

  “He can make toast,” I tell Emi, “and wants to know would you like any eggs or bacon?”

  She nods, bewildered. “Maybe some fruit?”

  ”No, pero nos gustaría un poco de fruta, también. Y mimosas.”

  “I got mimosas...” she says. “I’ll be fast asleep in no time,” she mumbles.

  “Café, también,” I add. “Gracias.” Emi smiles as Javier goes into a small kitchen area.

  “You speak Spanish?”

  “Ummm, yes, it’s kind of necessary. The businessmen here take you more seriously if you’re fluent in their languages and aware of their customs. It’s a sign of respect.”

  “Well what did you do in France? And Italy?”

  “I spoke their languages, as well.”

  “You speak French and Italian, too?”

  “And German.”

  “How...”

  “I learned some in college, in my International studies... and the rest with language software and a few trips.”

  “Say something in French,” she encourages me.

  “Dans l'histoire du monde, aucun homme n'a aimé une femme comme Je t'aime.”

  “And Italian?”

  "Il colore dei tuoi occhi è come una scintillante piscina, che riflette la profondità del mare."

  “Wow, I hope you didn’t just say something completely insulting, because it sounded beautiful...”

  “Only complementary, I promise.” I lean in closer, kissing her right cheek and whispering the English translation of the French phrase in her ear. I then repeat the action with the Italian phrase in her left.

  “And how do you say, ‘I can’t wait to make love to you... how much longer is this flight?’”

  “Which language?” I laugh.

  “I don’t care,” she breathes before running one hand down my cheek and kissing me, the fingers of her other hand tangling in my hair.

  “Speaking of sleeping with you,” I say quietly, interrupting the sentence with a kiss, “did you sleep on the flight over?”

  “Not at all,” she admits. “I was just so excited... I tried to sleep, but my mind was just racing. I watched three movies on my iPod. One was really boring and I still couldn’t sleep!”

  “That’s not good,” I tell her. “Maybe you should nap a little now.”

  “No, my mind’s still racing.”

  “Maybe after you eat something...” She nods. “Did you talk to your family any more?”

  “Just Anna and Chris. I needed to assure them that I wanted to know every little thing about their baby. I didn’t want them to feel awkward talking to me about him... and I wanted them to know how important he– and Clara, too– will always be to me. They may be the closest things to kids I have...”

  “And my nieces and nephews,” I add.

  “If...” she says.

  “If I don’t leave you?” I scoff. “Em, you’re my future. You have to know that I’m not leaving you.”

  “I don’t know, but I hope. It’s not official, you know.”

  I shake my head at her and roll my eyes playfully.

  “Chris said my mom’s worried you’ll leave, too.”

  “Seriously?”

  “That’s just how her mind works... woman can’t give man what he wants, man leaves woman... I have my dad to thank for that,” she jokes. “Only it wasn’t kids, it was... ew, you know what, never mind, I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “So I need to win over your mother then...” I ponder. “Easy enough. I’m not leaving. I guess it will just take some time for her to see that.”

  “Time, yeah...” she lingers. “Or a commitment...”

  “A commitment, huh?” She blushes as she shrugs her shoulders. “I love you, Emi.” I lean in to kiss her gently first, then deeper. “You know I’m committed. Did you mean a proposal?”

  “I didn’t say that,” she denies as Javier brings our food out. “Yum. Perfect, thank you.” She smiles, obviously not wanting to venture further in this conversation right now. I am positive that she thinks it’s happening this weekend.

  “Este pan es increíble. Gracias, Javier.” He laughs at us and leaves us alone in the sitting area. “So, we didn’t really get to hear from Anna much the other night. How is she doing?”

  “She’s great,” Emi says. “She says he’s kicking a lot. She invited me over so I could feel it... I told her I’d come when we got back.” Her eyes water. “It’s hard now, but it’s a beautiful thing. I want to be there for her.”

  “I know, Poppet.” We kiss again. I pick up both of the drinks, handing one glass to her. “To our life together.” One corner of her lip turns up as she searches for something in my eyes. She sighs before taking a drink.

  At the hotel cabana in Tenerife, I read through a copy of USA Today, the only link to America I can find... I’ve been so out of touch recently that I feel like I’m missing out on all the news from back home.

  Emi was so tired by the time we got here that she only took the time to give a cursory glance around our villa before she lay down on the bed and fell asleep. I guess that’s what being awake for twenty-four hours straight will do to a person. She kicked her shoes off, and that was it. Didn’t even bother to change clothes.

  Before she dozed off, she did let me know it was okay to unpack her bags. No surprises for me this time around... although the bathing suits are new to me, and I can’t wait to see her in them. I put away her things neatly before taking a tour of the resort.

  If I do decide to propose here, I need to find a perfect place. I was sure I would find that place somewhere near our hotel, but after an hour of wandering around, I haven’t found it yet.

  Overall, the resort is perfect, though. The grounds are beautiful, just as amazing in person as they were in the brochure, and the weather is gorgeous. Any place would be acceptable for a proposal... I just haven’t felt the right one yet.

  Inside our private villa, there are two separate living rooms, a kitchen, a bedroom and a bathroom with a tub that could almost be a second private pool. The bedroom has a large canopy bed in the center with wood accents all over the room. The living areas are each tastefully decorated with comfortable furniture and Spanish artwork. Windows look out onto the deck, overseeing an infinite pool which appears to flow straight into the distant ocean.

  The pool and deck are both enclosed on two sides by tall stone walls, our own private paradise. The deck outside is home to its own table and chairs... and bed. I guess if it only rains five days out of the year, you don’t need to worry so much about all-weather furniture.

  The hotel itself is palatial, unbelievable. When you look one way, you see the vast expanse of the ocean; the other way, a volcanic mountain. It’s like nothing I’ve seen before. Akin to Hawaii, maybe, but there’s something a little more exotic here. Maybe it’s just the Spanish influence.

  The bartender sets down two glasses of sangria in front of me, and then hands me a napkin with a message scrawled on it in black marker.

  I think I’m still dreaming. Pinch me? I look around for Emi, but don’t see her anywhere.

  “Ella dice que se reunirá con usted en su habitación,” the server says with a smile. In the room. I tip him and take the two glasses with me to the villa, just a short stroll away.

  I enter the quiet room and immediately spot Emi through the windows, looking over the poolside into the ocean, wearing a blue bikini that seems to blend in with the water. Already in my swim shorts, I quietly walk out onto the patio.

  “It’s real,” I tell her, setting the drinks down at the edge of the pool. “Good evening.”

  “I slept through the e
ntire day,” she says apologetically.

  “You needed it. You got up in time to see the sunset... I think you made it for the best part of the day.”

  “This is so pretty,” she says, wading through the water and picking up a glass. “Thank you,” she smiles.

  “Thank you.” I get into the warm water and sit down on the top step leading into the pool. Emi joins me on the second step, sitting in between my legs. I begin to rub her shoulders, watching the tips of her hair become enveloped by the water. She takes my hands in hers, pulling them across her chest, holding them there. In silence, we watch as the sun slowly drifts lower until it is hiding beyond the horizon.

  “Are you hungry? There’s a restaurant on the beach.” She turns around on the step and kneels in front of me, her eyes even with mine. She kisses me, her hands scraping my back lightly, before she whispers in my ear.

  “I’m starving,” she says seductively.

  “Uh... for?” I ask, unsure.

  “Well, of course, for you... but food, really,” she smiles. “I just ate toast and fruit, remember?”

  “Then come on, let’s get dressed to go eat, silly.” She takes my hand and we walk into the villa together. I put on some khakis and a white button down shirt. Emi is wearing a thin, long, light blue sundress and white sandals. She pulls her hair back into a low ponytail and puts on a modest amount of makeup.

  “Do you think we’ll need our jackets?” she asks, motioning toward mine.

  “Poppet, it’s eighty-four degrees outside... I think we’ll be okay,” I tell her, suspicious. She knows.

  “I didn’t know if it would be breezy or something by the water, that’s all,” she says innocently.

  “Well, I don’t know... I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine, but you might want to bring something, I guess.” She nods and grabs a wrap, folding it neatly over her arm.

  “I’m ready, then.”

  Once we’re seated, the table lit only by a small candle and the moon, we look over the menu and decide on our meals. After we place our orders, Emi folds her hands into her lap as her gaze settles on me.

  “Okay, so how long have you been planning this trip?” she asks.

  “For a while,” I admit. “I think I thought of it the weekend that Jen moved out.”

  “The weekend Jen moved out... isn’t that the same weekend that a certain article was in the paper?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie.

  “Right, so the trip... what was the occasion you planned this trip for?”

  “Your birthday,” I tell her with a sideways glance, knowing what she’s insinuating. “I thought you would like to get away from everything. Was I wrong?”

  “No, it’s great. It’s incredibly romantic. Easily the most romantic place I’ve ever been.” Is she really fishing for a proposal?

  “I’m glad,” I smile, taking a sip of water. “Happy birthday, Em.”

  “Thank you... pretty elaborate for a birthday...”

  “What are you getting at, Emi?”

  “Nothing!” she laughs. “I’m just sayin’...”

  “Alright. Next year, we can stay in and I’ll order pizza and beer.”

  “That would be fine,” she says.

  “Is this just too much for you?”

  “I just don’t deserve all this fuss... for a birthday... it’s not even an important one. Thirty-one... big deal...”

  “Well, I’ve missed all your other birthdays, so can’t this count for all the past ones, too?”

  “You didn’t miss last year.”

  “That’s right,” I recall. “I gave you a bottle of wine.”

  “You made my day!” she says. “That was very sweet. But I wasn’t even on your radar. You were dating Marie at the time...”

  I scoff at the idea. “You’re kidding, right? I drove my date out to New Rochelle to hand deliver a bottle of wine to you. A forty-minute-out-of-the-way-drive, just to see you.”

  “Right...”

  “I’m serious, Em. Laugh if you want, but I was just biding my time with her. She’s a great girl, she is, don’t get me wrong... I wouldn’t have dated her if she wasn’t... but I only wanted to be with you. As soon as I felt the time was right, I broke it off with her. You remember...”

  “And when did you feel the time was right?”

  “It was that one dance, at the club. Just holding you... it felt right... you changed that night. You seemed open, when for months you had completely shut down. You had been unrecognizable as the woman I thought I knew before. But that evening, you let your guard down. You allowed yourself to be vulnerable with me. I saw that as my opportunity.” I recall the events of the night, remembering the pain I felt when she exited the club.

  “But then after you left with that other guy, I was doubting myself.”

  “Nothing happened, by the way,” she interjects. I laugh a little.

  “Well, regardless, how was I to know? First, all I could think was ‘Why can’t that be me?’ I’d watched you walk out on me time and again, and it was a habit I was wanting to break. I can remember feeling guilty for thinking that I wanted to take you home, especially since I was on a date with another woman...

  “And then I thought maybe you were just lonely... that maybe the time you and I spent talking was just a friend-to-friend thing. That’s why I called you, wanted to meet you the following day. I wanted to see if I still felt something between us... and more particularly, I wanted to see if it seemed like you did.”

  “And you thought I did by that meeting in Grand Central?”

  “No,” I laugh. “I didn’t get that at all. You were out of sorts again. But I knew I felt something, and that was enough for me to go on. I broke it off with Marie that evening.

  “I knew it was a matter of time at that point. I just had to be patient... I knew you’d come around.”

  “Took me long enough,” she says.

  “It took as long as you needed it to take. You are worth the wait.”

  “I don’t deserve you, Jack.” Her eyes water.

  “Wait, no! Where did those tears come from? They were not invited to this dinner. No crying, no way... I mean it, Em. Whatever sad thing you’re thinking about right now, just banish it from your mind.”

  She sniffles and wipes her tears with her napkin, setting it down on her plate of half-eaten food. “Let’s go for a walk on the beach.”

  The seaside is relatively quiet, the calm ocean surf the only noise except for some tropical music playing in the distance. I roll up my pants and we both take off our shoes before wading in the shallow water. Emi takes my left hand into hers and starts playing with my ring finger.

  “What are you thinking about, Emi?”

  “Just about how perfect this night is... that’s all.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Do you still want to marry me, Jack?”

  “Is that a proposal?” I laugh, taken by surprise.

  “Oh, no, that’s... no... not what I meant. I mean, since all this came up... are you having second thoughts about me?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Well... this would be the perfect opportunity...”

  “For...”

  “Don’t make me say it.”

  “I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about... so you’ll have to say it.”

  “I felt the box... in your pocket... I thought maybe that’s why you invited me here... so?”

  “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Jack!” she yells, frustrated, hitting my arm. “We’re on a romantic island, there’s not a cloud in the sky, there’s not a soul around us...”

  “I will not be pressured into this,” I state adamantly, smiling at her. “Okay, we’ve established that I’m no good at keeping secrets, but I want it to be a surprise. I certainly don’t want you expecting me to do it. How romantic would that be?”

  “Perfectly romantic,” she pleads. “Really?” S
he hangs onto my arm, looking at me, hopeful. She lightly pats the pocket on my shirt, then moves her hands down to the pockets on the back of my pants, then brings them around to the front.

  “I don’t have it with me,” I tell her. “I’m serious, Emi. Half of the surprise is already gone... please, let me redeem myself by making it somewhat unexpected.”

  “You don’t have to go to that trouble.”

  “Em, I’m going to go to that trouble. This isn’t all about you, you know. I’m part of this equation, too. What story will we pass down to future generations? Kids, your mom figured it out and pressured me into giving her the ring.”

  Her face falls immediately, before I even realize what I said. She tries to force a smile, watching the look of shock in my eyes turn into sorrow... into an apology.

  “Emi...”

  “No, I know,” she says quietly, her head hanging low. “It’s hard to completely reorganize your thoughts around it, I know.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, holding her head in my hands, forcing her gaze to meet mine, my heart racing, sinking. “I’m so sorry.” I catch her tears with my thumbs before pulling her into my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around her.

  I guide her farther up the beach, and we find a dry spot in the soft sand, facing the dark, vast ocean. She sits in between my legs, my arms still holding her.

  “You haven’t given up on children,” she finally breaks the silence.

  “We don’t have to, Emi. I think we should look at all the options.”

  “Am I not enough?” she barely manages to ask. Her words break my heart into pieces.

  “I don’t even know how to begin to answer that,” I tell her honestly. “Of course you’re enough. If it ends up just being me and you, Emi, I’ll still be happier than most people. But I think you and I would be better... with children... when I see our future together, I don’t see us alone. Do you?”

  “Honestly, yes,” she cries. “Some adoption agency is probably going to look at my string of misfortunes and tell me I’m not fit to adopt a child, I don’t know.”

  “You’re talking nonsense right now... be serious.”

  “I am,” she argues.