Page 49 of Make It Without You

Her eyes take on a slight sheen as if she’s remembering that feeling all over again. “But I think we had a turning point when I went home. At least I hope we did.”

I can’t imagine what it’s like to spend critical moments without your parents around. I’m lucky mine were involved when they needed to be. Of course, I don’t voice that. Because even now I know how hypocritical it is to state how having involved parents is.

“That’s good, Emily.”

She smiles a real smile. And it’s breathtaking. A dimple peaks through on her right cheek and her eyes crinkle at the corners. Though her eyes are still tinged with a little bit of sadness, it’s still a smile. “Thanks. So how was your Thanksgiving? It’s hard to get a flushed-out recap with first graders.”

“It was lowkey. My parents are traveling and we don’t have extended family in the area, it’s just Dyl and I.”

“I’m sorry,” Emily says with a voice that almost makes me want to wrap her in a hug.

I shake my head to shake it off. “It’s alright. We FaceTimed with them and I made a turkey in the deep fryer. So it was a solid Thanksgiving.”

She surveys me again and I feel like I’m under a microscope. I won’t admit to anyone that not having my parents around can get lonely. Explaining to your six-year-old why your grandparents travel more than they spend time with you is a tough conversation to have. Although explaining why his Mom didn’t choose him, I’ll never be able to avoid that conversation.

“So what about you?” I jump before she has a chance to ask another question that makes me mournful. “What do you like to do when you’re not teaching?”

“Uh oh.” Emily adjusts her position and leans back, crossing her legs. “This almost sounds like a date conversation starter. And I don’t date my students' parents.”

“Six months until you’re not his teacher anymore. But who’s counting?” I wink and her jaw drops.

She leans up to the table. Our faces are only a foot apart. And this close I can see her eyes so clearly. The golden swirls of her irises mix with the brown. The pulse in her neck thumps steadily at our back and forth.

“Are you always this flirty?” Her question comes out in a breathy whisper.

“Are you always this shy?”

Her left eyebrow quirks up. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

That doesn’t surprise me. “To answer your question, only when I think it’ll lead me somewhere.”

Emily snorts and takes a few sips of her drink sitting back in her chair. I drop my stare and focus on my own coffee. The rest of our time at Millennial Bean is spent with surface-level talk. I’ve never been one to pour my heart out to someone I barely know. And it seems Emily is the same way.

But I take away one thing from this coffee date, and if she denies it’s a date, I’ll continue to call it that for a laugh. Emily is not like anyone I’ve ever met. In my job, I’ve studied thousands of people. Hazard of helping out as a bartender when my guys get swamped. I can tell when they’ll pour their life story out for me to react. Or if they’ll keep everything bottled until they have another place to vent.

I think Emily has so many layers that it could take months to learn her.

If she feels even the tiniest tingle like I do when I’m around her, then one day she won’t be so hard to read.

Emily

February 2020

Adam: Truth or dare?

Me: Truth.

Adam: Have you always wanted to be a teacher?

Me: Yes.

Adam and I have been texting more and more. He does his best to cross the line, but I swiftly push him back. He’s persistent. I'll give him that.

But with the new year and me turning a year older, it makes me want to forget the line was ever there to begin with. I’ve always been one to follow every rule set for me. With violin, school, James, and now teaching; it’s made my life simple as the structure keeps my head above water.

Me: Truth or dare?

Adam: Truth.

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