Something to Talk About(89)
“All you’re interrupting is everyone stuffing their faces with latkes,” Emma said. “We haven’t made it to dreidel yet.”
“Are you having fun?”
“I am.”
Even more fun now. Emma felt like she was a teenager, sneaking away from a family event to talk to a girl on the phone in a hushed voice. Her stomach was doing swoops.
They both stayed silent, Emma pressed the phone tight to her ear and tried to tamp down her grin.
“I didn’t have much of a reason to call,” Jo admitted. “I was just thinking about you. Wanted to wish you a happy Hanukkah.”
“I appreciate it.”
It was all so new. It didn’t feel fragile, but Emma knew they were both being careful anyway, both unsure of what came next. It was too important to rush into and mess up; she hoped Jo thought so, too. It was nerves but not nervousness, anticipation but not apprehension. Everything between them was a big ball of potential, and Emma couldn’t wait to see how it turned out.
“I should probably get back to my family,” Emma said.
“Yes, of course,” Jo said. “Tell them hello from me, if that’s not weird.”
“Oh, my parents would love it. They’re probably going to be totally obnoxious when you meet them.”
“Meeting the parents already, huh?”
Emma knew Jo was teasing, but it worried her a bit anyway.
“I’m kidding,” Jo said quickly. “I can’t wait to meet them. I’m incredibly charming and can do a good enough job teasing both of their daughters, they’re sure to love me.”
They really were, was the thing. Kind of like how Emma thought she might feel about her. Not that she’d said it.
Jo kept talking when Emma didn’t say anything. “You’ve already met my father, anyway. Seems like meeting your parents will probably be more fun.”
“It will,” Emma said. “You’re right—they’ll love you. I promise.”
Emma definitely felt like a teenager, butterflies in her stomach and perpetual grin on her face.
“Okay, now go,” Jo said. “You can call me later if you want.”
“Okay.”
“Go,” Jo said again, laughing this time, and Emma hung up with her skin tingling everywhere at the sound.
“Where have you been?” Emma’s mom asked when she returned to the living room.
Emma hadn’t put her phone away yet, and that was a mistake, she realized, as Avery laughed.
“Were you talking to your girlfriend?” Avery said.
The whole family ganged up on her.
Emma wanted to be annoyed by the teasing, but it was hard. The jokes were overshadowed by everyone gleefully calling Jo her girlfriend.
* * *
—
On New Year’s Eve, Emma tried on seven different outfits. She videochatted with Avery, did a fashion show of sorts. Avery picked out her two best choices. Emma changed back and forth between them three more times before settling on one.
She bought daffodils on her way over, hoped it didn’t seem too cliché. They reminded her of Jo’s dress at the SAGs, and she thought they’d make Jo smile.
Emma had seen Jo’s house before—the entryway mostly. Though she had even seen Jo’s bedroom before, once having to pick up a change of clothes when Jo spilled coffee before a meeting with the network and her spare office set was at the dry cleaner. Emma mostly remembered Jo’s closet, remembered it being as big as her entire apartment, though that was probably an exaggeration.
It was new, being shown into the house for the first time instead of simply being there for work. Jo answered the door in her usual black skinny jeans. Her feet were bare. She was so small, Emma immediately wanted to wrap her in a hug. Her shirt was thin and loose, a wide scoop neck. The pop of Jo’s collarbones made Emma blush.
“Come in,” Jo said with a grin. “Can I take your coat?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Emma shucked her coat, which Jo hung in a closet by the door, and took off her shoes.
“Are those for me?” Jo gestured to the flowers in Emma’s hands.
“Um,” Emma said. “Yes.”
She thrust them toward Jo. Her nerves were getting the best of her, but she had no control over it. She was in Jo’s house for a date, and Jo wouldn’t stop smiling at her. Jo didn’t stop smiling when she took the flowers, either. Instead, she put a hand on Emma’s wrist, and Emma remembered, with blinding clarity, their moment on the red carpet almost a full year ago, Jo making Emma laugh so she forgot about her anxiety.
“Emma,” Jo said, still with a smile. “I think this will work better if we’re both a little nervous instead of you being crazy nervous.”
“I’m not crazy nervous,” Emma said immediately. Jo tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, and Emma sighed. “I might be crazy nervous.”
“I know,” Jo said. “And it’s adorable, but unnecessary.”
Warmth expanded out from Emma’s chest. She couldn’t help the way her mouth broke into a grin. Jo squeezed her wrist.
“Come help me get these in water,” Jo said.
She slid her hand down, locked her fingers with Emma’s, and tugged her farther into the house. Emma felt warm all over by this point. Her nerves settled down a bit.