Sweet Forty-Two(73)

We mumbled agreement to meet again the next night. I assumed she spent a lot of time with her mom during the day, though I knew talking about it was still really hard for her, so I didn’t push it. I had to record with The Six tomorrow, but wasn’t about to be a girl with Ember in front of everyone. I could do that just fine in private.

“It’s been a while, Kane,” Ember mused as I let myself into her house. She was pulling a whistling kettle away from the stove. Two mugs were ready to go.

“I just saw you today.” I hopped onto the barstool across from her.

“Yesterday.” She yawned, which reminded me that for Ember it was a new day. For me, it was a continuation of the last few hours.

She looked up, a smartass grin bringing lightness to her face. “But, I mean since a 9-1-1 text. Or call, for that matter. You didn’t even send me one when, you know, you got mail.” Her eyebrow twitched like a period at the end of her sentence.

I sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t know if I wanted to tell Bo ... and I didn’t want you to have to keep secrets from him, then you all showed up—”

“At Georgia’s.” She poured boiling water over loose tea leaves. “You’re a grownup, Regan, but you didn’t have to hide that. If you’re hanging out with Georgia...” She shrugged like she couldn’t commit to the unspoken second half of her sentence.

“It’s not like that. Well, it wasn’t. Wait ... back up.” I put up my hands then grabbed the steaming hot mug of tea. “How are you and Bo doing after ... the letter?”

She smiled. The kind of smile she had while looking through little kid pictures of Rae before her funeral. A syrupy melancholy. “We’re fine. You’re adorable. How are you? I read the words, Regan. I remember you telling me you wished you’d said them to her.”

She stood next to me and leaned onto the counter, our forearms touching and both of us looking at an imaginary spot on the counter. Ember had been excelling in her training in the art of talking about heavy things with guys. Eye contact is discouraged. Makes us feel naked. Which is only okay if naked is what we want to be at that moment.

“It was like ringing the doorbell to hell, reading that card, Em. I couldn’t f*cking believe I was staring at the words I’d forced myself not to say to her. I...” I put my chin in my hand and took a deep breath.

Ember took a hand and ran it up and down my back, not saying anything for a moment. When she spoke, finally, her tone was thoughtful. “I’d ask if we could talk about Georgia later, but I feel like this is all kind of muddled together...”

“Hell f*cking yes, it’s muddled!” I stood with the growl of a tantrum-throwing teenager. Taking my tea to prove to myself I was well past those days.

“Sorry...” Ember shrugged, facing me without leaving the counter.

I paced the short length of the living room. “I was kind of liking Georgia, you know? She’s fun to be around and she’s also aggravatingly complicated, but she’s so ... raw. So real you couldn’t fictionalize her if you tried. She even tries, but it’s not ... she can’t...” I stopped to take a breath, feeling the sticky sweet wisp of her kiss on my lips.

“Was?” Ember turned to face me, leaning against the counter.

“Huh?”

“You said you were kind of liking Georgia. What is it now?”

I pursed my lips, looking at Ember and realizing I had to say it out loud. To someone. Before I exploded.

“I really, really like her. I trust her. She’s trusted me with some really heavy shit, too. And then she said she wanted to open her bakery, and I said I’d help her, and then we kissed.”

Ember’s eyes widened, a peacock-green billboard screaming, What the f*ck did you just say? as her mouth formed a perfect “O.”

“Say something.” I huffed and sat down, setting my mug on the dark wood of the coffee table.

“Well ... I’m trying to read your reaction to see if I should formulate my supportive response or my rescue response. How was it? The kiss, I mean.”

“How was it?” I curled my lip, having not signed on for this level of girl talk.

“I mean, pervert, how did it feel? Emotionally.”

I shrugged noncommittally as I formed the exact opposite sentiment with my words. “Awesome. Seriously. It felt so good to have my lips on someone else’s ... to have someone’s hands in my hair and on my shoulders. Then she pulled away and it felt like a cold gust of Rae ripped across the back of my neck.”

“Why’d she pull away?” Ember joined me on the couch.

“I don’t know. She’s got walls built by walls designed by walls. She wants to do it again, though. So do I ... I think. I just ... if I hadn’t gotten that letter from Rae I might still be making out with Georgia in the bakery.”

Ember laughed so loudly and suddenly that I jumped.

“What?” I asked, incredulously.

“Your honesty when you’re tired is priceless. Anyway ... did Rae’s letter change your feelings about Georgia?”

I shook my head.

“Did they change your feelings about Rae?”

My eyes stung, but I shook my head, again.

“What’d they change?” She put her hand on my knee like she could read my goddamn mind.

“They changed,” I managed through an uneven voice, “how I feel about my healing. I thought I was done with that part. I want to pursue things with Georgia, but I don’t want to cheat her out of a real relationship if I can’t even give her a real person. But ... I feel like Rae’s letter reminded me that I haven’t come to terms with those things undone. You know? Like ... things I can do absolutely nothing about. I can’t tell her I love her and have her hear me and smile back and tell me she loves me, too...”