Page 98 of Engulfing Emma

Emma looks like she doesn’t know if she’s going to laugh, cry, or scream.

“The stairs are squeaky, Mom,” Evie says. “It’s not his fault. My room is right under them, so I pretty much hear it every time someone comes down.”

“Everytime?” Emma asks in horror.

Evie nods. “It’s okay, Mom. You’re a single woman in the modern world. I’m not a baby. I know how things are.”

Emma lowers her head until her forehead meets the table and then knocks it against the surface over and over.

“It’s not that bad, honey,” Enid says.

“What’s not that bad?” Emma asks. “That my twelve-year-old daughter knows I have men upstairs? Or that my mother and daughter have been sharing secret midnight snacks with him? Or, and here’s the real kicker—that everyone has been lying to me about it.”

I feel guilty when she looks at me after saying that.

“Come on, Evie,” Enid says, holding out a hand to her granddaughter. “Let’s you and I go for ice cream.”

Emma and I remain silent until the front door shuts. Then Emma gets up from the table and stomps around the kitchen. “How could you do this to me?”

“What was I supposed to do when Evie caught me coming down the stairs, just ignore her like all the others?”

She puts her face in her hands. “Oh my God, this is not happening.”

“It’s okay, Emma.”

“It’snotokay. Putting my daughter aside for a minute, you lied to me, Brett. Why didn’t you tell me you had met her?”

“I suppose because she asked me not to.”

She looks surprised. “Why would she do that?”

“Because she doesn’t want you to think she thinks less of you for having men in your bedroom. Which she doesn’t, by the way. You’ve got one hell of a kid there, Emma. She’s smart. And she might know you better than you know yourself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Just what do you two talk about?”

“Lots of stuff. Her friends. My job. Germany.”

“She discussed finding her dad?”

“She’s told me how much she wants to go, but that you think she’ll be disappointed when he doesn’t want anything to do with her.”

“She will be.”

“Of course she will, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try. There might be grandparents who want to be in her life.”

“I’ve thought of that.” She sits back down. “I’m still mad at you for not telling me.”

I take the seat next to her. “I was trying to keep the peace between you. But if I’m being honest, I might have been a little selfish about not saying anything.”

“How so?”

“If you’d found out, you would have stopped having me over.” I grab her hand. “I don’t want you to stop having me over, Emma.”

She studies our entwined fingers. Then she looks up at me with a sullen face. “Even if it can’t go anywhere?”

I think of what Bria said earlier—that Emma just needs time to figure out that she wants this, too. Because I have to believe that she does. I force a smile. “Yeah, even if it can’t.”

“No more lies,” she says.

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