Page 115 of Engulfing Emma

Amanda goes back into the kitchen, refilling her wine glass before going upstairs.

“She’s done a lot of that this week,” Bonnie says.

“A lot of what?” I ask.

She mimics drinking.

“Seriously?”

She nods.

Bria snaps a Lego into place. “She was slurring her words when I was here yesterday afternoon.”

“Afternoon?” I look at her in surprise. Amanda was not a big drinker when we were together.

Bonnie says quietly, “I’ve found more than a few empty bottles buried in the trash. I’m afraid she might have a problem.”

I look down at Leo, concerned that he’s been with her all week. Was he alone with her when she was drunk?

As if reading my mind, Bonnie says, “Don’t worry, I stayed close.”

I put my hand on hers. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?” Bria asks.

“You, too,” I say. “I don’t know what I’d do without both of you.”

An hour later, when I’ve completely worn Leo out, I take him up and put him down for a nap. I look out the window before drawing his curtains. I wonder what Emma is doing right now. It’s only been a few hours, but I miss her already. I resist the urge to text her. I don’t want to start our relationship by being overbearing and needy. But the truth is, I do need her. I glance at Evie’s window. I need her, too.

I take my suitcase to my bedroom to unpack. When I walk through the doorway, I see Amanda reading a book in bed. Inmybed. “What are you doing?”

She puts down the book and looks at me like I’m crazy. “I’m reading, Brett. What does it look like?”

“Yes, but why are youhere?” I look around and see her things scattered about. “Did you sleep here this week? We said you were going to sleep in Leo’s room.”

“No, you said that. What’s the big deal? You were traipsing halfway across the world with what’s-her-name.”

“Emma,” I say through my teeth. “Her name is Emma.”

Looking at Amanda, I realize what I hadn’t before. She’s dressed like she’s going for a night out. Is she really going out, now that I’m home? Or is she wearing the enticing outfit just for me?

She sits up on the side of the bed and takes a drink of wine.

“Don’t you think you should slow down?” I ask, nodding to the glass. “It’s not even dinner time yet.”

“Are you trying to tell me what to do?”

“I really don’t care what you do, Amanda. Except when it affects my son.”

“Don’t you meanourson?”

“Have you been drinking around him?”

She puts down her glass. “Don’t get all righteous on me. Like you don’t drink around him.”

“I don’t drink by myself in the middle of the day,” I say.

Her expression softens as she looks up at me. “I guess I was nervous about seeing you again.”

---