Page 52 of Healing Hearts
“I hope whatever’s going on works out okay,” Brett says.
“Me too.” My heart is already feeling a bit heavy at the alternative.
When I get home, Emily is sitting at the kitchen table, hands in her lap, staring at the envelope on the table like it’s a fucking viper ready to strike.
“Is someone picking Amir up from school?” I ask. Though it’s just before noon, I don’t know what kind of shape either of us will be in, and I remember Emily saying how she tried so hard to pretend to be fine for Amir, even when she’s not.
“My mom,” she says. “I didn’t tell her why.”
“Open it now?” I ask, running my hand across her back and dropping a kiss onto her temple.
“I don’t think I’m ready,” she whispers. “I’m really regretting even getting it done, to be honest.”
I take the envelope off the table, and I fold it, stuffing it into my back pocket.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her eyes rising to face me.
“We’re going to get out of here. I’ve got somewhere in mind, and when you’re ready for me to open it and take about ten years to read it, you can let me know.”
“It won’t take you ten years.”
“You clearly have no idea how slow I read. There’s a reason I do most of my learning through hands-on experimentation.” I trail my gaze down her off-the-shoulder summer dress. “There are some benefits to that method.”
Her cheeks turn pink.
“Did you cancel all your work for the rest of the day?” I ask, taking her hand and leading her toward the door.
“I moved everything around to tomorrow and the rest of the week. Though I honestly…” She shakes her head, and I know what she’s going to say because I feel the same way. If the results aren’t what we want, tomorrow will come too soon for a lot of things.
“Take it as it comes, right?” I suggest as she slides her feet into her sandals.
“Am I dressed okay for wherever we’re going?”
Her anxiety in the question, in what we’re prolonging, is so obvious that I stop just before the door and turn to examine her. I slide my hands into her hair, and I press my lips to her forehead. She sighs and leans into me, her hands resting lightly on my sides.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she whispers.
“And you’re never going to find out,” I murmur before drawing her into a tight hug.
“We’re going in that?” Emily asks, her tone brimming with disbelief.
We’re facing a battered red rowboat while standing on a dock on Lake Speers. It’s a small inland lake not far from Little Falls that stocks fish and has little rowboats, paddleboats, and other small watercraft. Since it’s a weekday, it’s not too busy.
The sun is shining, and there’s a gentle breeze rustling the leaves on the older trees that circle the lake while fluffy white clouds roll overhead. Under other circumstances, it’d be the perfect day.
“I’m going to flash everyone when I get in,” she says, holding onto the bottom of her skirt while I grip her elbow to help her step down into the boat.
When she sits down on the triangle seat at the back, the whole thing shudders and shakes, and she turns wide eyes up to me.
“Don’t tell me that Emily Sullivan hasn’t been in a rowboat before?” I say, stepping into the boat where the paddles sit, getting comfortable. Truthfully, I’ve only been in the boat once before with Amir, and my reaction was much like hers just was. A total “what the fuck am I doing?” when the thing swayed with wild abandon.
This one is bigger than the one I rented with Amir, and though it’s rocking a little, it doesn’t feel quite so much like we might tip in. I learned that lesson last time as Amir and I tried to fish and I kept a hand on the head loop of his life jacket, terrified he’d fall in.
“What’s the plan here, Castillo?” she asks, gripping the sides of the boat as though we’re all about to go down with the ship.
“We’re going to row out to the middle, and then we’re going to lie in the boat and watch the clouds.”
Her earlier tone of disbelief is now followed by a look to accompany it. “You’re kidding.”
