This Close to Okay(29)
“Nope. I dig it. And you’ll have to try harder than that to weird me out,” he said, standing.
“Okay, challenge! I’ll be right back.”
*
She reread at least one Harry Potter book every October because they were autumnal and she’d read them so many times that revisiting them was soothing—no surprises. She was halfway through the illustrated version of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, so she went and got it from her bedroom. After making the tea, she sat outside the kitchen with the mug next to her, the book in her lap.
“Talking Disney and now you’re reading me Harry Potter. We’re some grown-ass people tonight,” Emmett said and laughed—one peppy ha—and turned to look over his shoulder at her. The water hushed hard into the sink as he rinsed the dishes. He’d taken his flannel off, stood in her kitchen in his own white T-shirt. Clean, fitting him perfectly, his shoulder blades angel-glowing, making two low, snowy peaks.
Tallie sat cross-legged on the floor, drinking her tea. Opened the book and began reading. She had to raise her voice so he could hear her over the rain, the faucet water, the sparkling, chippy clatter of dishes.
*
When he was finished loading the dishwasher and washing the skillet and pot by hand, he threw the dish towel over his shoulder.
“Well, I’m invested now,” Emmett said, pointing at the hardback book in her lap.
“I’m way too old to be this in love with them, I guess? I don’t have kids. There’s really no excuse,” she said, feeling her heart light dim. It was still a bit embarrassing, her body failing her in that way. And it’d taken her awhile to stop feeling guilty about it. She focused on the positive, the possibilities. She hadn’t looked at the adoption websites since Wednesday; she’d return on Monday, click around and daydream.
“Well, I don’t have kids, either, and I loved listening to you read it to me. So thank you,” Emmett said gently.
Tallie flipped through the book for a moment before closing it and putting it down. “So did you tell your family you were leaving town?” she asked him.
“No. And if they got the letter today, they’ll think I’m dead. If they didn’t get it today, they won’t be worried yet,” he said. He wiped his dry hands, unnecessarily.
“They haven’t tried to call or text you?”
“It’s a new phone. I didn’t want anyone to have the number. Clean break.”
Tallie wanted to ask him about his childhood, more about his family. But when he was done answering questions, she couldn’t get anything new out of him. She went to her bathroom, googled Christine and Clementine and obituary and got several hits for years going back, but none of them mentioned an Emmett, and the ages were off. Too old or too young to have been his wife. She searched for Clementine and man and missing and found old Golden Alerts. And she knew attempting to search for Hunter would be a waste of time. The internet wasn’t helping. After she peed and washed her hands, she stood outside the kitchen.
“Emmett, if you gave me more information, I could reach out to your family. Maybe that would help? If you don’t want to do it…I could do it for you,” she said.
“I won’t let you,” he said with that shadow falling across his eyes. The rain was sideways now—striking the windows with horror-movie intensity.
EMMETT
A large section of Emmett’s heart had been wrapped with concertina wire. Compartmentalization: it’s how he got through his life after. Talking about Beauty and the Beast, listening to Tallie read from Harry Potter, those things smoothed inside him like a letter opener, peeled back, ripped him open. The tears that came in Tallie’s presence were only a peek at the whole story—the teeniest tip of glowing ice blue poking out of the inky black.
He looked at Tallie and smiled slightly, left her there outside the kitchen watching the rain against the window and excused himself to the bathroom with his backpack and his phone. He hadn’t responded to Joel’s email when he was in the parking lot of the grocery store because he hadn’t wanted to make Tallie seem desperate, waiting around for his reply. She was a busy woman.
He closed the bathroom door, stood against it.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: i still care about you too
hi joel. i’d like to start out by saying i agree! I AM AMAZING.
you obviously blew it. but yes, you already knew that.
i will never understand how you can say i know you, even though there is a HUGE part of you i obviously don’t know. the part of you that decided to break our marriage vows. i didn’t do that. i would’ve never done that to you. but like i said before, we’ve been over this.
i do have more questions for you since you’re opening up. the love you feel for her…how is it different from the love you felt for me? is it different? it’s the same love, but it shifted? also, how does it feel to be a father? i know how badly you wanted it. or how badly you thought you wanted it. well, now you have it! without me. doesn’t it feel kind of…i don’t know…wrong? what happens when you get what you really want? do tell.
i appreciate the sentiment of your email. you seem to finally be…trying. men need to get better at taking care of the women they claim to love so much.