Page 36 of Beautiful Crazy

I reach for the remote and quickly mute the tv so I can give Emily my complete attention.

“Emily, let’s get one thing straight right now. You have never been, nor will you ever be, a bother to me. Why the hell would you even think that? Have I ever said that to you? Have I ever given you the impression that you bother me?”

She shakes her head, her eyes wide. “No Emm. Don’t get mad. I just want you to be able to enjoy your game. I’m a hot mess of cramps and pain over here, but I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t care if your vagina is erupting like Mt. Vesuvius, get over here and snuggle with me so I can keep you warm. You’re not alone Em. I know how bad your periods can get. Trust me. I haven’t gone running from the apartment yet, have I?”

She huffs out a chuckle. “Never say never Emmett. The demon inside me is uncontrollable. Also did you know that most women will spend ten years of their life on a period? Ten whole years.”

“Well, the next time I talk to my dad, I’ll ask him to bitch slap Eve for you for eating that damn apple in the first place. Now get over here.” Opening my arms, I wait for Emily who finally leans over and places her head in my lap. I cover her with her fleece blanket and rub her shoulders. “You warm enough?”

“Mmm hmm. I’ll get there. Thank you, Emmett.”

“Of course. You’re welcome.”

She pulls her legs into her torso so she’s in a near fetal position, so I slip my hand around the outside of her thigh, holding her against me, and then unmute the tv just in time to watch the River Frogs score their third goal.

Do I wish things were different and Emily was lying in my lap for different reasons? Yes. Do I wish her hand would move over my thigh and rest somewhere else instead of on my knee? Absolutely. Is it torture in my chest all the damn time when I’m around her these days? Fucking right it is, but Emily Chesney is my very best friend and my heart breaks for her when she’s not happy. I would do anything for her, so tonight…tonight I will not think dirty thoughts that will give me a boner while her head is on my lap. Tonight, I just want to make her feel better.

“And that’s the game, folks!” the announcer calls. “The Louisville River Frogs remain undefeated as they travel to Michigan for their next game.”

“What a game, huh?”

I expect to hear Emily’s voice, but when she doesn’t answer, I look down at her peacefully beautiful face asleep on my lap. Her breaths are slow and steady and she’s snug as a bug wrapped in her blanket. I think my heart is growing a size bigger just seeing her asleep here on the couch with me. For just a few minutes, I watch her while gently running my fingers through her hair now that her top knot is gone.

She has such soft, silky hair.

I like the way it feels between my fingers.

Moving her is the last thing I want to do, so I adjust my position and prepare to sleep sitting up until Emily wakes.

I can go all night if I have to.

Anything for her.

I reach down between the side of the couch and the couch cushion to adjust the microsuede pillowed armrest, and when I do my fingers touch a folded piece of paper that I pull out and recognize immediately.

“What the hell is this doing here?”

Unfolding the letter my brothers and I received the day we read Dad’s will, memories of this paper and a bottle of tequila remind me why this letter was here. Making a mental note to clean under the couch cushions tomorrow instead of waiting another six months, I read through Dad’s note once again.

Dear Sons,

First thing’s first. Please don’t be angry with anyone but me about the way I chose to live out my remaining time on this earth. From the day I was diagnosed, we all knew my time was limited. It was my choice to not tell you just how limited that time was. I didn’t want our last moments together to be sad or depressing. I just wanted to be holding your mother’s hand, the love of my life, with the knowledge and satisfaction that I did all I possibly could with the time I had on this earth to make our little corner of the world better than it was before you were all born.

You boys are all in your prime. You’re discovering who you are and what you want to be, and I wasn’t about to be the cause of any of you putting your dreams on hold to help out at home. Between home and the bakery, Asher has had to do that enough for all of you. I hope in time you can forgive me and know that I am so incredibly proud of the men you are and the men you will become. To that end, a few things:

I know, for some of you, small town life is not your dream. There are bigger things out there in the world than Bardstown, Kentucky, but that being said, I hope as you grow up and become respectable men in whatever community you choose, that you can look back and appreciate what small town living has to offer. Community. Friendship. Pride. Love. Anyone in this town would give you the shirt off their backs if you asked for it. It’s my prayer that you will continue to uphold those same values to others around you.

It’s also my hope that Bardstown Bakes will remain in the family, and will pass down from generation to generation, but I also completely understand if none of you aspire to follow in your old man’s footsteps. If that’s the case, do me the favor of making sure it’s put into the hands of the right person at the right time. The bakery was a blessing in our lives, and I would hate to see that end.

Look out for your mother and the special women who will eventually show up in your lives. Treat them like queens and let them flourish. In turn they will provide you with the best sex you will ever have (I see you rolling your eyes, boys. You think I’m kidding about that…but just wait). Speaking of women, here’s a tip from man to men, if she’s ever irritated with you and you know you deserve the doghouse, take her by the hand, pull her close to you, and dance with her. Bonus points if you sing the lyrics in her ear. Women love a good slow dance. Follow it up with some tongue and a boob graze and you’re golden. You’re welcome for that. Just do your mom a favor and keep it covered if you’re not going to keep it in your pants. She doesn’t deserve an early grave…although you are all old enough to start supplying grandchildren so…maybe forget what I just said.

I have something for each of you, but right now it’s put away for safe keeping until such a time that your mother feels like it may do you some good. You won’t all receive it at the same time and it’s different for each of you. So, for now, I’ll say I love you all dearly. I’m proud of each of you. More than you could ever imagine, and I’ll always be listening when you want to chat.

All my love forever and ever,

Dad

---