Page 1 of Engulfing Emma

Chapter One

Brett

“Mommy,” Leo exclaims, carrying a picture of Amanda over to the table where I’m enjoying my morning coffee.

I pull him up on my lap, briefly looking at the smiling face of the woman who is now technically my ex-wife. I glance at the thick packet of legal papers that was delivered yesterday. I’m torn between wanting to think of the first six blissful years we spent together, and the two miserable ones that came after. The two that started the day our son was born—the day she checked out. Checked out of our marriage. Checked out as Leo’s mom. Just checked out.

Our marriage might have just legally ended, but it’s been over since the day Leo came into our lives twenty-five months ago.

Leo puts down the picture of Amanda and picks a crayon up off the table. He begins to color in the book I place in front of him. I watch him as he colors, thinking how much he looks like her, with his blond, slightly wavy hair, green eyes, and pouty lips. Sometimes I wonder if he really understands that Amanda is his mother or if he’s just repeating what I say. Or what Bonnie, his nanny, tells him.

He hasn’t even seen Amanda since his birthday six weeks ago. She comes around every once in a while for what seems more like an obligatory visit than a wanted one.

I rest my chin on top of his head, inhaling the fresh scent of his clean hair. “We’re good, aren’t we? I mean, it’s pretty much been us for a long time now. Nothing’s different. Those papers haven’t really changed anything.”

“Pony,” Leo says, showing me the picture he colored.

I laugh, looking at the haphazard way he tried to stay inside the lines of the drawing using his purple crayon. “That’s right. Pony. Good job, son.” I ruffle his hair.

The floorboard behind me creaks as Bonnie comes into the room. “How are my two favorite boys?” She walks over to give us each a kiss.

Over the past two years, Bonnie has become like a grandmother to Leo and a mother to me. When Leo was only a few months old, Amanda decided that not only did Leo need a nanny, but a live-in one. I thought we were perfectly capable of raising a child without full-time help. I was more than willing to parent him when I wasn’t working my two weekly twenty-four-hour shifts. Amanda basically had a nine-to-five job at the department store. Between the two of us, we only needed help a few days a week.

It became evident early on, however, even before we brought Leo home from the hospital, that Amanda didn’t want to be a mother. She thought she did. For years before she got pregnant, we fantasized about how we’d be a perfect family. But when it happened, every dream I had about us being the family in the Norman Rockwell paintings went right out the window. We thought it was post-partum depression at first. But it soon became clear that Amanda didn’t want Leo. And since Leo and I are a package deal, she didn’t want me either.

“Oh, that’s a lovely pony,” Bonnie says in a grandmotherly tone. “What’ve you boys got planned today?”

“I thought I’d take him to the park,” I say.

“Swing! Swing! Swing!” Leo says excitedly.

I laugh. “Yes. You can go on the swing and the slide and the horsey.”

He wiggles off my lap and runs around the table, pretending to gallop.

“Should we play with Joey today?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer but nods gleefully.

Joey is a few months younger than Leo. I work with Joey’s dad, Denver, at the firehouse. Well, Denver is not technically Joey’s dad yet, but he will be soon.

“Do you have any big plans today, Bonnie?” I ask.

“You know me. I’ll take my usual walk to the market, stopping to feed the birds along the way. I think I’ll help out at the soup kitchen tonight before I make our dinner.”

“Why don’t you let me cook for once?” I ask.

“Brett, sweetie, you know how much I like to cook. Any requests for dinner?”

“We’ll eat whatever you want to prepare, Bonnie. You really are too good to us.”

She waves off my comment. “Taking care of the two of you gives my life purpose.”

Bonnie lost her husband five years ago, having never had children of her own. It was awkward at first, a stranger living in our house. Someone who heard every fight. Every squeak of our bed when we occasionally made love. Every silent dinner when Amanda stayed late at work. But now, I can’t imagine life without her. She truly has become like family.

I get up and put my coffee cup in the sink. Then I tuck the thick envelope, signifying the end of an era, behind my laptop on the counter. I’ll deal with it later.

“Come on, buddy.” I scoop Leo into my arms. “Let’s go.”

---