Page 47 of For Emery

“Well, don’t you think she’s more beautiful?” she asked him.

I glanced to Jordan with my brows raised in question.

“She already knows I think she is,” he said.

I stifled a smile as I stepped back from his mom. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” she said. “This is such a wonderful gift.”

Jordan moved to her and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her right off her feet. “Happy birthday, Mom.”

She squealed with laughter.

I wished—like I always had—I was part of their family. Part of the bond they shared. I loved my mom more than anything in this world, but being part of a family—with a happy mom and dad—was what I’d always wanted. Sure, I knew a perfect life was not necessarily attainable, but I still hoped one day I’d have it.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Mrs. Grady said as Jordan released her.

The three of us walked inside their house. The smell of her comfort food cooking hadn’t changed one bit.

Mr. Grady stood inside the kitchen, greeting Jordan with a hug. “Good to have you home, son.” He released Jordan and turned to me, pulling me into a hug. “You too, Emery. We missed you.”

It felt odd to be hugged by Mr. Grady. By any man, really. My stepdad never hugged me. And I never met my real dad. But as soon as Mr. Grady released me, I felt bereft. I hadn’t realized how comforting it was to have people care so much about me and my well-being. Had they been sad when I left? Had they been just as angry as Jordan? Or did they realize the hell we’d been through and the urgency for us to leave?

We ate at the kitchen table, laughing—usually at Jordan’s expense—and listening to Jordan’s stories about everything football. His parents had been at his first game, but I hadn’t seen them. I promised to sit with them next time. Mrs. Grady also told us about her first year being retired. She’d been an elementary school teacher, and Mr. Grady claimed she was bored out of her mind and in desperate need of a hobby. According to him, her latest pastime was asking him repeatedly if he washed his hands. “Old habits die hard,” she claimed.

Once we’d finished lunch, she stood from the table and gathered our empty dishes. I stood to help her. “Sit down, honey. I’ve got them,” she said.

“Nope.” I grabbed a couple serving dishes. “It’s your birthday and I’m here to help.”

She laughed as we placed the dishes down on the counter.

Jordan and his dad talked about football, and I could tell she wanted to give them time to catch up.

“So, you and your mom have been good?” she asked, obviously treading lightly.

“Yeah. She misses me now, but she’s been busy with her job.” I pulled open the dishwasher and placed the dishes in as she rinsed them. “She got back into real estate. Selling houses and stuff.”

“Oh, that’s great. She deserves a happy ending. So do you…” She paused and looked me in the eyes. “And Jordan.”

The way she added Jordan made me wonder if she thought we were destined to be more than friends like I always had. Or if she just wanted us both to find happiness.

Once we’d cleaned everything, Jordan stepped up behind me. My entire body stilled as the warmth and solidity of him called to every cell inside me. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me playfully into his chest. He had no idea how the gesture sent my body buzzing. “She done helping here?” he asked his mom.

“Yup. She’s all yours.” Mrs. Grady looked to me. “Thank you for helping, Emery. It’s been some time since I had any help in the kitchen.” She purposely pegged Jordan with her eyes.

He laughed as he released me and leaned over to his mom, kissing her cheek.

Her smile beamed at the love shown by her only son.

I followed Jordan from the kitchen down the hallway to his room. He stepped inside, but I stopped in the doorway, gazing around at the room where I’d spent most of my sleeping hours. It looked different. He’d painted the white walls blue. The pictures of the two of us at different stages he once tucked into the corner of his mirror were no longer there. Had he torn them up? Thrown them out?

My gaze wandered to his bed. He’d replaced his football themed comforter with a plain red one, but the oak headboard was still the same. Being in his arms in that bed had been the only place I felt at ease. Untouchable. Protected.

“Whatcha thinking?” Jordan asked as he sat down on the edge of his bed.

I shook my head slightly, chasing away the thoughts. “Just remembering.”

He glanced down at his bed. “It felt empty without you.”

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