Page 94 of The One I Want
She doesn’t say anything else, just continues to cry as I stroke her hair. There’s nothing I can say. I’m not about to make an excuse for that so-called mother of hers. I’m not going to apologize for her. But I am going to comfort my girl, and if she needs to cry it out then I’ll go buy every box of Kleenex in Rolling Hills.
“Sissy? Are you okay?”
I look to the door to see both Hank and Magnolia standing in the open frame, looking equally confused. At the sound of Magnolia’s voice, Emerson pops up and quickly wipes away her tears.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” she says. “Nothing to worry about.”
Normally I’m all for Emerson being her little independent self, but not now. Nope. She needs to be pissed and angry at her mother. And if I had to make a wager, so do Hank and Magnolia, even if they don’t know it.
“That’s it!” I say, jumping up from the bed. “Everyone get their shoes and something warm on. Meet me out back in five minutes.”
Everyone gives me a confused look.
“You heard me. Socks! Coats! Shoes! Sweatshirts! Let’s go!”
Hank and Magnolia think it’s a game, and they bolt for their bedrooms. Emerson just looks at me like I’m mental.
“What are you doing?”
I give her a pat on the leg. “We’re going to yell it out. And I think you, my dear, are going to need to yell the loudest.”
I walk across the room and grab my boots and a sweatshirt. Do I know if this is the right thing to do? Nope. Should Wes be here? Probably. But then again, I think Emerson hasn’t let it out because she doesn’t want him to see this.
I’ve never seen these kids cry about their mom leaving until today. Only occasionally at the beginning would they ask about her. They have to have questions, or be mad about something. Or hurt or angry or sad.
And today, we’re going to get it all out.
Five minutes later, I have the three musketeers all outside.
“Emerson,” I say, asking her to come next to me. I put my arm around her, wanting her to know that I’m here. “I know you want to be strong for your brother and sister. That’s what makes you the best big sister in literally the entire world.”
“She is,” Hank says. “She did my math homework for me last week.”
I look over to her, but she’s now conveniently looking everywhere but at me. “We’ll talk about that later,” I say. “Anyway, when you both came into Emerson’s room today, she was sad, and that’s okay. Emerson, do you want to tell them what you were sad about?”
She looks up to me, a touch of fear in her eyes. I give her a nod and a squeeze, encouraging her to go on.
“I was crying about Mom,” she begins. “She didn’t call me to wish me a happy birthday.”
I feel my own tears building as both Hank and Magnolia run over to her, hugging her as hard as they can.
“I’m sorry, Sissy,” Magnolia says. “That wasn’t nice of her.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Emerson says. “I’m sorry you two had to see me cry.”
“Don’t say sorry,” Hank says. “I cry sometimes too. I miss her.”
Oh fuck, I’m going to lose it…
“Hey buddy,” I say as I take a seat on one of the chairs, bringing Hank beside me. “That’s okay too. It’s okay for you to feel sad. It’s okay for Emerson to feel sad and maybe angry. Magnolia, do you miss your mom?”
She tilts her head, clearly thinking hard about it. “I get mad sometimes.”
“Why, sweetie?”
“Because she says she’s going to call and she doesn’t. That makes me mad. And sad. I’m sad mad.”
“Sad mad is a very big feeling,” I say, bringing her to my lap. Emerson takes a seat opposite of us. “Guys, what your mom did was terrible. I don’t like talking bad about people—”
