He nodded. “See you at home.”
Chapter Five
Joni Mitchell’s voice crooned from the television as she and Riley crammed onto the couch, foot to foot, sharing the comforter from her bed while watching her favorite movie of all time, Love Actually.
Her heart pinched as the scene unfolded in a memorable display of treachery and neglect. Hearing a sniffle from the other side of the couch, she glanced at Riley. “Are you okay?”
“She’s just so stoic. How does she do it, knowing he bought the necklace for the other woman while she’s home breaking her ass trying to raise his family?”
She wiped her eyes. “I know. It’s a great movie.”
The scene cut to Liam Neeson’s character. “Oh,” Riley groaned. “And then there’s these two. This boy’s ripping out my heart. Why did you make me watch this? I’m delicate!”
“Wait. It gets better,” she promised.
Since embarrassing herself in front of a bar full of people, she decided to spend the last of her vacation doing things she truly enjoyed. Riley was sucked into her plan of absolute laziness sometime mid-Wednesday during the second Bridget Jones movie.
Turned out, he had a soft spot for romantic comedies, so it was only right for her to introduce him to all her favorites. After this they were watching The Princess Bride.
As the movie played her mind wandered. This was not where she expected to be. Her calendar was crammed with appointments she wouldn’t keep, consultations, tastings, dance classes and more. She’d been so consumed with planning a wedding, she’d forgotten who she was before she got engaged. The real her was in there somewhere, but lost.
“Do you believe in God, Riley?”
She hadn’t expected him to answer anymore than she expected to ask the question out loud. He was so engrossed in the movie, but it was a quiet scene so he did. “Sometimes, but I think I’m wrong. My God’s a cross between St. Nick, Jesus, and Zeus from the Disney version of Hercules, but not as tan.”
This made her smile. “You believe in a Santa God?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, sort of. I imagine him sitting on a throne like the Abe Lincoln monument, but holding a trident and surrounded by clouds. But I know that’s not what it’s really like. It’s just what I imagine when someone says God.”
She grinned, finding his version of Deity charming. “Do you think God has a plan for us, like everything happens for a reason?”
“I don’t know, Em. If he does and you find the cheat sheet he’s only going to change it to smite you.”
She also wasn’t sure the real God smote people. Maybe God wept with them and steered them toward something better, but if they made too much noise or moved too fast they’d miss the purpose of the struggle. “I think God’s a woman.”
He was quiet for a long while. “You’re probably right.”
She decided there was a bigger reason Becket was removed from her life. She just didn’t know what it was or if she’d ever find out.
After the movie was over and they had themselves a nice cry—which Riley swore was allergies—he insisted she watch some stupid online clip about screaming goats.
“I can’t believe I agreed to this.”
Riley jumped onto the couch like an excited tween and opened his laptop. “I dare you not to laugh. As a matter of fact, I bet you crack up.”
“At a goat? Puh-lease. Put your money on the table. I will take that bet as fast as I’ll take your money.” She straightened her shoulders and focused, not caring that it was four in the afternoon and she was still in her pajamas.
“Fine. How much? Keep in mind, if you lose, which you will, I’m taking your money. Don’t expect sympathy.”
“Twenty bucks.”
He reached in his pocket and pulled out two tens. “Where’s yours?”
“I’m good for it.”
“Nope. Get it, because when I take your money I’m ordering food with it. None of this IOU garbage.”
“Fine.” She went to her purse and dug out a twenty. Slapping it on the coffee table, she returned to the couch and crossed her legs. “This is going to be the easiest money I’ve ever made.”
“You aren’t kidding,” he snickered. Once the clip was cued he hit play.
Oh dear God. She hadn’t expected goats to look like that. She saw goats before, but never ones that looked so ridiculous. These were not the ones Mother Goose talked about. The poor creature had drooping ears that curled at the end like Pippi Longstocking’s braids and lips that looked like they’d been sucked into a vacuum for days.
The first threat to her composure came as one goat mumbled in what honestly sounded like a human voice. That wasn’t how goats sounded, was it?
Biting her lips to keep them sealed, she stared as the camera cut to a different breed. Oh the horror! The teeth and the floppy tongue, it was just too silly to watch with a straight face. Someone operating the camera started to giggle and contagious mirth slid into the slippery pit of her stomach where laughter was born.
She silenced each tiny burst of snickers, refusing to let him win, but the longer the clip played the harder it became. Her eyes started to water as thick laughter clogged her throat.
No! You are taking his money. Don’t you dare laugh!
And then it happened. A goat, with bug eyes and a long messy beard, looked right at the camera, parted its bucked teeth, and screamed. She was done.
“Yes!” Riley shouted, leaping off the couch and snatching the money. “I knew you wouldn’t make it.”
As he danced around kissing her twenty-dollar bill, she collapsed on the couch, holding her stomach in a fit of laughter. One goat after another screamed into the camera. They weren’t in pain. Apparently, these were the sounds goats naturally made. How had she never known they could baa like that?
Their screams grew more ridiculous and her laughter turned into pure hysteria. Tears, she was in tears! A cramp formed in her side and she moaned, but couldn’t stop laughing. For two solid minutes she struggled to breathe as this absurd compilation of goat shrieking went on.
And then, there was a new sound.
Riley froze. “Oh. My. God.”
She stilled, eyes wide, not a single breath moving through her lungs, her laughter completely gone. That did not just happen. The clip stopped and the room silenced.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” he whispered, face set in stunned amusement.
Her skin heated to a scorching burn. If he were anything close to a gentleman he’d pretend nothing happened. She waited for him to change the subject, give her a mulligan. Friends did stuff like that.
His head fell back as laughter erupted from his chest and he pointed. “You farted!”
“Shut up! It was an accident! Those stupid goats made me laugh and it just slipped out!”
He collapsed onto the chair and held his stomach. “You should totally give me another twenty for that. Not only did you laugh, you released the Kraken!”
That was it. She stood, grabbed her cup of water and dumped it on his crotch.
“Hey!” He continued to laugh.
“You, Mr. Lockhart, are no gentleman.” She stomped to her room where she slammed the door.
“Oh, come on, Emma! Don’t be mad. Friends don’t let friends fart and walk away angry!”
“I hate you!” she shouted, but laughed silently.
Eventually she’d get over her embarrassment. She’d have to face him sooner or later, but at the moment she was hiding. Stupid goats.
****
The following morning when Emma awoke she found a surprise in the kitchen. There was a lily, like the ones that grew outside of the inn, sitting in a beer bottle on the counter. He was a pain in the neck, but he kept her smiling.
Dear Ma’gotes McHobbit Toes,
Roses are red, violets are blue,
You farted.
You can’t hide in your room forever.
Let’s have a Ferris Bueller day and go sightseeing.
&nb
sp; Wake me up at noon.
#GoatFartsForever
-Ri
And just like that, she got over her embarrassment.
The idea of a day wasted on the sights of New York sounded awesome. She dressed in a navy blue skirt and a white tank, taking an extra few minutes to rub sunblock into her shoulders. As she tossed the lotion in her purse, her phone rang. Reading the screen she smiled.
“Hey stranger!”
“Is that you, toots? How are things?” She hadn’t realized how much she missed Rarity until hearing her voice.
“Things are wonderful. How’s the shoot?”
“The shoot’s fine. Lexi surprised me and came to the hotel last night, so that was awesome.”
“Cool.” There was definitely something to envy about Rarity and Lexi’s relationship.
Her friend laughed, but her next question was cautious. “You...you sound really great, Em. Did something happen with Becket?”
She scoffed. “No, screw him. I’ve just been enjoying my time off and hanging out. Not taking life too seriously as I try to figure out where I go from here and who I want to be.”
“Um...what?” She laughed, sounding dumbfounded. “When I left, you were a puddle of emotions fused to the couch. I thought I’d have to set it on fire to get you up. What the hell happened?”
She didn’t know how to explain her rapid transformation, because even she was surprised by her resilience.
“Well, Riley got me drunk one night, I put on my wedding gown, and gave a few undignified speeches I’m glad no one else witnessed. I puked, hit an all time low, came to terms with the fact that Becket’s scum and I’m too good for him, went to Brooklyn, almost had sex with a douchebag, watched a lot of Colin Firth movies, applied for a few jobs, and today I’m going sightseeing.”
Silence.
“Rarity?”
“Yeah. I’m just...shocked. You’ve been hanging out with Riley?”
Reservations clouded her upbeat mood. Rarity asked the question as though the idea of Emma and Riley being friends was the strangest part of everything she disclosed. It seemed more monumental to Emma that she’d come to terms with Becket leaving her.
Did her friendship with Riley make Rarity uneasy? That couldn’t be right. Rarity had two best friends, her brother and Emma, all three of them being close made convenient sense.
“We’ve only been hanging out when he’s not working. Is that not okay?”
Rarity’s laughter was hollow. “Of course it’s okay. Why wouldn’t it be? I’m glad you’re not fused to the couch. It’s all good. Anyway, I gotta run. I just wanted to call and check on you. I’ll be back Saturday, okay?”
“Okay. Miss you.”
“Miss you too, toots. Mwah.”
“Mwah.”
Emma dropped the phone in her purse and replayed the conversation in her mind. Was it so weird that she and Riley were finally getting to know each other? They’d met almost two decades ago and shared an address. It was bound to eventually happen.
The sound of Riley’s phone vibrating caught her attention. Following the soft tremble, she paused outside of his room.
“Hey, Rare.” His voice was gruff and raspy from sleep. Rarity was calling him now? Why?
“What? Wait. Slow down.” Covers rustled and Emma slowed her breathing to listen closely.
“It isn’t like that, Rarity. We’re friends. Give me a little credit. I wouldn’t treat her like that. I don’t shit where I eat.”
Emma drew back. Shit where he eats? What did that mean?
“I know she’s your best friend. I’m telling you, you have nothing to worry about.”
Emma grimaced. She didn’t need Rarity looking over her shoulder like she couldn’t take care of herself. What made her the expert on life? Rarity had never been engaged or cheated on. She didn’t know what that did to a person. And Emma just told her everything she needed to know. Why did she have to call Riley?
“Rarity, I’m not discussing this with you. I told you it’s nothing and I meant it. We’re just friends.”
He was quiet for a moment and then she heard his steps approaching the door. Abort! Panicked, she ran to the couch and jumped into the center, grabbing the book sitting on the arm. His door opened and he walked straight to the bathroom wearing only his briefs.
It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him in his underwear. When you lived with someone those sorts of things happened. But suddenly everything seemed wrong and inappropriate in an under-the-microscope sort of way. Damn Rarity for getting in her head and stirring up drama that didn’t exist five minutes ago.
The toilet flushed and Riley reappeared, pausing when he spotted her on the couch. “Oh, hey. I didn’t see you there.”
“Yup. Been here all morning. Just hanging out. Maxin’ and relaxin’.”
He frowned. “You okay?”
“Me? I’m totally fine. As a matter of fact, I’m so fine I was thinking about handling some errands I’ve been avoiding, so I don’t think I’ll be able to have a Ferris Bueller day with you after all. But thanks for the offer.”
He eyed her suspiciously. “Is this about the goat fart?”
“Oh my God, please stop calling it that. And no. I just have some errands to run.”
“Okay.” He didn’t appear overly disappointed that she wouldn’t be spending the day with him and for some reason that smarted.
“Okay then.” She grinned and tossed the book aside. Sidestepping to the door, she grabbed her purse. “I’ll see you later.”
“See ya.”
The door closed behind her and there she was, standing in the hallway with no place to go. She was pissed things got weird and they wouldn’t be sightseeing. The only errand she’d been putting off was the trip to Becket’s to get all her stuff. She didn’t need to do that. She could walk around for a few hours until Riley went to work.
Her mind was a cluster of confusion, phrases like shit where you eat and Ferris Bueller days running through her head, the sound of Rarity’s concern ringing in the background of every thought.
Emma rolled her eyes. First of all, guys like Riley never went for girls like her. They were two different species. Second, they were just friends. This was about Rarity’s insecurities, not their behavior. She’d see once she got home—everything was platonic and fine.
Good, you figured that out. Now what?
Pacing the hall, she debated facing her ex versus continued procrastination in all tasks deemed icky. Seeing Becket could derail her progress and send her back to the couch. Ugh, back to the gown.
No! She would not give him that sort of authority. She had to be tough. Maybe dealing with this was a good thing—get it over with. But maybe avoiding it and building back some added strength was wiser. Eventually she’d have to face him.
How did the saying go? It’s not the bang, but the anticipation of the boom? The anxiety and fear of facing her ex was eating at her. Maybe she should get it over with so the anxiety would be gone.
Finally, after much pouting and pacing, she texted Becket.
Hi. It’s Emma. I guess you know that. Anyway, would today be a good day to pick up my stuff? You have my good sneakers and I left my flat iron at your place, plus some clothes and DVDs. Let me know. Thanks.
Send.
Oh, God, she was going to throw up.
The door opened and Riley bent to pick up the paper—still in his underwear. “Emma? I thought you left.”
She sighed. This was stupid. She should just talk to him about what Rarity said. That way it wouldn’t be awkward and—
Her phone buzzed.
Hey, Baby. How are you? Yes, of course you can come by. You’re always welcome. Why don’t you come over now and join me for breakfast. I miss you, baby. Xo
Her heart thundered so fast her throat seemed to be vibrating. What the hell kind of reply was that?
“Em? Everything all right?”
She laughed, sort of outside of herself. Holding up her phone, she made a
face of absolute bewilderment. “It’s Becket. He wants me to come over for breakfast.” Talk about mixed signals.
“What? Did you call him?”
Why was he so concerned? “I texted him, but only to ask if I could swing by and grab some of my stuff.”
“What did he say?”
“He said yes and called me baby and said I was always welcome. He said he missed me.” Did he really miss her? Did she miss him? What about Goldie? What did this mean?
“Shit.”
She looked at him in question. “Why are you upset?”
“Because it was my job to make sure you didn’t call him.”
“Your job?”
He waved a hand. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. Did Rarity tell you to babysit me? Is that what this week’s been all about?”
“No.” He scoffed and she suspected he wasn’t being totally honest. “She just asked me to make sure you didn’t call Grayson. Everything else was a result of me having nothing better to do.”
His words came like a kick to the chest. She stepped back. “Wow.” This morning was really taking a turn for the worst.
“That didn’t come out right. I meant to say I was hanging out with you because I was having fun. I liked being with you this week. I wasn’t doing it for my sister. I was doing it for me. I had fun with you, Em. Please don’t get mad at me. It makes me feel all guilty and blah inside.”
Her stomach tightened uncomfortably at the anticipation of more rejection. She didn’t want to look at him.
“Emma...” His words were whispered, his expression genuine. “We’re friends.”
The pain in her chest gradually unknotted. She didn’t need people lying to her. “You really think of me as your friend?”
“Yes. You’re cool as shit. This week was one of the best weeks I’ve had in a long time. I don’t have that sort of connection with most girls, but you’re also different than my guy friends, because you don’t judge me for unwinding to some Cyndi Lauper after a long day or for biting my nails and spitting them across the room—”