Push(61)

“It was my fault,” she whispers into my ear. “My fault that your father died. I should have forced him to get that test. I should have driven him straight to the hospital, and for the rest of my life, all I want to do is punish myself for making that choice. Marrying Michael was part of it. I needed someone to support us, but the idea of moving on was just so.....so wrong. I picked Michael because, if I was going to move on, I needed it to be with someone who was never going to replace your father. Someone who was incapable of replacing him. Because I don’t deserve any better. I don’t deserve a second chance at happiness. I never meant to punish you for it, too, Emma, but that’s what happened. And I am so sorry. So, so sorry.” She stops talking only long enough to let me go and smooth the dress against my skin. “You can hate me if you want to. You might already hate me. I deserve it. I can’t take it back, but I want you to know that I am proud of the woman you are becoming. Proud that you are surviving. Proud that you are so much stronger than me.”
I don’t cry because I’m empty. I don’t hate her. How could she think that? I give her a small smile and use my thumb to brush the tears from her face. All I can say is, “It’s all right, Mom. Everything is okay.”
After that, I think things are going to be different between my mother and me. But outwardly, they aren’t. Michael stays between us, steering both her actions and mine. But inwardly, I know that we do feel different. Each in our own way. I think we recognize that there is still love here, even though we don’t say it, even though we don’t show it. Because we know that if we keep it inside, Michael can’t have it.



chapter Twenty-Seven

Emma—Present Day

Saturday is heavenly. David and I sleep in, eat a leisurely brunch, catch a movie and take a walk. Before we know it, evening arrives. I make us some dinner, and we talk about how to spend the night.
“I think Caleb and the guys are playing somewhere tonight. If you want, I can find out where and we can go,” he says. I don’t have to think twice about it. I tell him I think it’s a great idea.
Turns out they are going to be at a club on the south side of the city. The show starts at ten, and David calls Caleb to get us on the guest list. He seems excited to be going out to see his friends and tells me that this time we should plan on hanging out with them after the show.
“I’m not worried about them scaring you off anymore,” he says with confidence. “No matter what f*cking song they decide to play for you.” I smile at him, remembering how ridiculously crazy he looked the last time. And then I promise him—and myself—that I will not get absurdly drunk tonight. I will stay in line, and I will not humiliate either of us. He laughs and tells me I can do whatever the f*ck makes me happy. He doesn’t care, just so long as he’s the one who puts me in the shower this time.
We have so much fun. Before they start playing, we hang out with everyone backstage. I meet John and Steve’s girlfriends and enjoy watching David chatting and posturing with his friends. He seems so relaxed with them. And this time, when the band is playing, we don’t stand by the bar. Or rather, I don’t stand by the bar. I dance. With the other girlfriends and a few other people. I glance over at David from time to time and watch him watching me. It is the first time he’s seen me dance, and I hope I am not embarrassing him. He eyes are alight every time I glance at him, so I think I must be doing all right.
By the time the band finishes and the DJ begins, I am drenched in sweat, laughing my ass off at Mandy, Steve’s girlfriend, and her antics. She’s a howl, traipsing around pretending to be a supermodel and flirting with everyone she sees. I like her—and everyone else here, for that matter. They are unpretentious and uninhibited.
About an hour later, I decide to have a seat on a bar stool a few feet away from David. He is busy talking with John. I can’t tell what the topic is, but it must be light because they occasionally crack up between drags on their cigarettes. As I am watching the pair of them and drinking a gin and tonic of my own, Saz sits down next to me and starts talking. He is overly animated, telling me about how much he likes my shirt and how he thinks the DJ looks like a young Hugh Jackman.
Suddenly, he stops blabbering and starts smiling at me like a silly little boy. “Emma,” he says, dragging my name out slowly.
“Saz,” I say. “You all right?”
“Shit, girl, I’m more than all right. I’m thrilled to f*cking death.” I think he might be a little drunk. He leans over into me as if he is going to tell me a secret. “You, girl. You and David. Things are tightening up again for that man.” Uh, okay. What does that mean?
“Tightening up?” I say, forcing a cautious smile on my face. He is smiling, too, and his eyes are lit.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s a good thing. A really good thing. He hasn’t had a girl around since Lucia f*cked him over, man. That was some tough shit to witness right there.” Who the hell is Lucia?
“Oh,” I say. “Lucia, huh? What happened there?”
“He never mentioned her?” I shake my head cautiously. “Aww, man. I’m not surprised. It was bad. The whole time the two of them were together, she was f*cking some other cocksucker. The dude even lived in David’s building. It was a really f*cking bad scene. The guy lived two floors down from David. They were friends, man. Nothing worse than finding out your woman is screwing one of your mates. She was just a rotten f*cking whore.” This is news. Holy f*ck. Two floors down. That’s my apartment. I’m not sure I want to hear any more about this, but I can’t help myself.