What a Girl Needs (22 page)

My dad. Ever the compassionate one.

“You know Clara,” Fish answers. “I think she met this one in downtown Sonoma. Outside The Cheesecake Factory. Isn’t that right, Babe?”

“This one, Fish, her name is Maggie. She’s not a dog for crying out loud. She’s a lovely young lady who has been sent a lot of hard blows in her short life.”

“No, if she were a dog, I’d remember her name,” Fish jokes.

“Are you charging her rent?” Emily asks.

Clara hones in on Emily. “Are you looking for a place to stay, Emily? You are welcome with us.”

“I, uh—” Emily shoves a forkful of potatoes in her mouth and stares at her plate.

“Emily, can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask her.

We excuse ourselves and go into my room. “I’m sorry about my room. I know it’s like Playskool’s Vlad the Impaler castle.”

Emily doesn’t crack a smile. “Did you tell Clara about me?”

“I don’t even know about you, Emily. Clara is extra perceptive. She lost a son, and I think she just sees a need in people.”

“What did Kehvin tell you?”

“That he knows who the baby’s father is, and that you came to Philadelphia to see me.”

She pauses, and then meets my gaze with her wide, green eyes. With her beauty and connections, Emily could really have anything she wanted—at least that’s how I’ve always pictured it for girls like her. The world is their oyster, but somehow, everything Emily reaches for, slips through her fingers.

“You think I’m a loose woman,” she accuses.

And no, I really don’t, but she is pregnant and there’s a great secret about who the father is, so let’s not be too condemning
. “Kevin says you need my legal help. I’m here for you, Emily.”

“But you don’t want to be. I know you left when you found out I was coming to Philadelphia.”

That’s truer than I’d like it to be.

“Your brother bought me the ticket for our anniversary. I went when the ticket said it was time to go. I know we’ve had a rough start, but you love Kevin. I love Kevin. Because I love Kevin I will do anything you need me to, so spill it.”

“My first boyfriend…” She walks across the room and drops on the futon. “My only boyfriend, really.”

My eyebrows shoot up subconsciously.

“Yes, I’ve dated. But this is the only man I’ve evah loved. Do you see how you judge me?”

“So what’s the problem? Isn’t he a southern gentleman?”

“Oh Ashley.” She falls backwards on the sofa. “He can’t marry me. He’s a football player.”

Silence, while I try to figure that one out. Which annoys me, because haven’t I learned by now that it’s not going to make sense?
Consider the source, Ashley.

“I’m sorry. I fail to see the connection. Football players can’t be married?”

“He’s famous. In our little town, he’s famous.”

“He’s not married, is he?” I’m exasperated. I fail to see how this drama fits into my vacation plans
. I mean, is it me?

“No!” she squeals. “Honestly, what you must think of me—”

“Emily, I’m assuming that you want this baby. You’re going through a lot of trouble to keep it, and I’m thrilled for you. I know how hard it had to be to tell your mother about the baby.”

“We made a mistake, Ashley, but he’s just graduated from a big Christian college. He’s been recruited for a NFL team. He’s got endorsements for every kind of product.” She looks me deeply in the eyes. “Because of his squeaky clean image, I’m his dirty little secret.” She rubs her stomach. “We’re his dirty little secret. I just need to hide out here until the baby comes, and I need some paperwork prepared. Adoption papers. Do you think you can help me with that?”

“First off, you’re no one’s dirty little secret, do you hear me? Are you giving the baby up for adoption?” I’m confused. “You need to establish residency in California if—”

“No, no. When the baby comes, Josh can marry me. You know, he’ll rescue a single mother and be the best dad ever and his fans will embrace me.”

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” I gaze at Emily’s wide eyes and realize I’ve just said this aloud, so I try to backpedal. “Emily, any real man would take consequences for his actions. You’re not someone’s dirty little secret. You’re the mother of his child—mistake or not. God doesn’t make mistakes.”

“I simply need time, Ashley. When the baby comes, everything will be fine.”

Prickles of horror run down the back of my neck. That’s exactly the way Kevin deals with issues – he’ll think about them tomorrow. Is everyone from the Atlanta region nursing a Scarlett O’ Hara complex? Is it my calling to be in a lifelong waiting pattern?

I’m almost afraid to ask, but I bite the bullet. “Where will you stay until then?”

“I was hoping I could stay here. Clara’s offer sounds incredible. Do they live in a place big enough where she means what she says?”

The fact that Emily is willing to stay with people, virtual strangers, who she probably thinks live in a doublewide trailer, is incredible to me. She is far too desperate for me to believe any aspect of her story. Emily’s truth is usually like an iceberg. The majority of it is just under the surface, and it’s the part that does all the damage.

‡

I
felt as
if I’ve lived a week in this one day. And in reality, I suppose I have, because it’s more than I’ve done with the last six months of my life.

“You’ll be all right?” Kevin asks me, as he gets ready to leave me on Kay’s front porch. I can see the guilt emanating from his every pore, but what choice does he have, really? He has lives to save. I glance at Emily sitting straight-backed in the rental car. I wonder what would happen if she just had to sink or swim—like a normal person.

I stare at him as if he’s a stranger. I never thought he’d break my heart, but understanding the truth of the fact that he had time to come across the country for Emily, but not take a vacation with his wife, speaks volumes. How can the man I love be so gullible?

“You’re sure she’s telling the truth?”

He checks over his shoulder., “I’m not sure of anything. That’s why I thought it was better to do what she asked and bring her to you. I don’t understand my sister.”

“You don’t understand me either.”

His face tightens. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means we have different priorities, Kevin. I can’t explain it to you any more than that.”

“It’s ironic, isn’t it?” Kevin asks. “I spend my days saving the lives of babies who are struggling for breath, and in my own family, I can’t do a thing for my own niece or nephew.”

“Yeah. It’s ironic.”

“What if she can’t parent that baby, Ash? She barely takes care of herself.”

“She takes fine care of herself, Kevin. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She runs, and everyone chases her.”

Kevin bends and kisses me on the forehead. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I don’t deserve your sister.”

He laughs, and against my better judgment, the sound brings me joy in my soul. Love makes no sense at all.

Kevin’s face is troubled, and he inherently understands that I’m hurt, but I can also tell he has no understanding of why. He’s doing what he must. He’s focused, and my feelings will have to wait.

“Isn’t this romantic, being on this front porch?” I ask him. “It’s like when we were dating. Remember how we were on fire for each other, and had to go to our separate spaces until we were official?” I sigh. “Good memories.”

“Yeah, I’m a guy so I don’t remember it quite as romantically as you do. Because if I had my way, my sister would wait in the car and I’d take my wife to her old room with wild abandon.”

“Mmm. Wild abandon, huh?” I wrap my arms around his neck, and he unclenches them by grasping my good wrist.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, you little Minx.”

I giggle, but my laughter dies abruptly. “I’m ready to come home. Next time you send me away as a gift, maybe you could make the return trip sooner?”

“Trust me. There won’t be a next time. I’ve had more chicken potpies than I care to admit to in the last two days, and the Bible is right. It’s not good for man to be alone.”

“You’re not saying you miss me for my cooking.”

He laughs. “Trust me, no one is ever going to say that to you, Ashley.”

I pout. “Go. You’re going to miss your plane.”

He jumps off the porch and stares back at me. “You don’t think it’s too weird that my sister is going to live with Fish and Clara?”

I give him all the reassurance I can muster. “Weird is the new black. In this family, it’s probably the only color.”

He hops back onto the porch and kisses me ravenously. I can feel his energy, and desire courses through my veins—everything behind the small moment—the promise of more to come. The regret of what isn’t. There is a beauty in knowing someone so intimately that their very presence brings peace and puts your soul at ease. I squeeze his hands.

“I’ve learned my lesson,” he says, as he cradles my chin in his hands. “Sending you away to find your goals sounded so sacrificial and heroic.” He trails his finger along my jaw. “Now I realize it was me, avoiding that I’ve screwed up your career.”

“I needed the push. I could have humbled myself and taken the bar a long time ago. Or I could have found contract work. It’s not you. It’s not Philadelphia.”

“Tell the cops they can’t have you longer than your return flight home, no matter who ripped off Tiffany’s.”

“I will.”

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. And if you see Seth,” he shouts over the car at the street, “remind him, I’m the worst thing that will ever happen to him if he texts my wife again.”

“Got it,” I say through my grin. “You’re hot when you’re jealous.”

I run towards him at his driver’s door and reach my arms around his neck. He kisses me intensely, and my body melts into his. “Don’t leave, Kevin.”

“I have to,” he whispers into my ear. “Come home to me, Ashley.”

The passenger door opens, and Emily stands up and glares at us under the streetlight. “Look, you two. Either get a room, and get on with it, or let’s go already.”

“Goodbye, Emily.” I let go of my husband. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning about ten.”

She grumbles at me and I run to the porch and wait until I watch their headlights turn off the street. My heart is broken, and I can’t even explain why. It might be that my so-called vacation just turned into an extended babysitting job from
Clueless
.

*     *     *

Facing Kay’s front
door, I’m tentative. Only the foyer light is on, so most likely she’s in bed, but the last thing I want to do is face her. Now I not only have to tell her about the rogue find under my bed, but I should probably give her some hint about Tiffany’s. I unlatch the door as quietly as possible, and slip my shoes off where the “landing spot” used to be. Landing Spot = Kay’s euphemism for where I could stash my stuff when I got home, so she didn’t have to be reminded of my presence in her pristine existence. A small cabinet for my shoes, for my handbag, which back then were like art, so I never understood the point of hiding them. Regardless, the small white space is gone now, testimony that my presence no longer intrudes upon her bliss and serenity.

“Ashley!” Kay charges out of the dark hallway and nearly gives me a coronary. I reach for my chest.

“Kay, what on earth!”

“Where have you been?” she asks like a parole officer.

“I thought you’d be in bed by now.” Read: Go there now. I start to rub my eyes in over-exaggerated motion. “What a tiring day. I’m so tired! Aren’t you tired? And you’ve got to get up for work tomorrow.”

She says nothing. Just stands with her fist to her hip like Brea’s mother did every time I spoke as a child.

“I suppose you heard Kevin was in town.”

“Kevin your husband? How would I hear that?”

“Yeah, that’s why I went to my mom’s house for dinner –”

“What happened to your wrist?”

I raise it slightly. “Oh you know me, so klutzy. I’m sorry I didn’t call rather than text. I was icing my wrist.”
Well, the ER nurse was doing it.

“Actually, I saw Kevin on the front porch. Was that Emily sitting in the car?” She flicks on the lights, like she’s preparing to give me the third-degree.