Chương 8
The smile left my face.
“I still haven’t offered it.”
“You rearranged your meetings today.”
I went still.
“How do you know that?”
“Mrs. Alvarez talks.”
“I’m firing her.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I might.”
“You won’t.”
She had become irritatingly confident about me.
“You think you know me?”
“No.”
Her answer came quickly.
Then slower, “But I think I’m starting to.”
That sat between us.
Emma looked toward the windows.
The lawn had gone brown beneath the January cold.
Two guards stood near the east gate while a delivery van turned in.
“I got another job.”
Something tightened beneath my ribs.
“Where?”
“Hotel near O’Hare.”
“Night cleaning?”
“Yes.”
“What do they pay?”
“Twenty-three.”
“That’s less.”
“I know.”
“Then why take it?”
“Health insurance after ninety days.”
I had no argument for that.
“They also have tuition assistance.”
“Tuition?”
She looked almost embarrassed.
“I was halfway through nursing school when my mom got sick.”
I stared at her.
“You never told me.”
“You never asked.”
“You were studying nursing?”
“Three years ago.”
“Why stop?”
She gave me a look.
“My mother started wandering out of the apartment.”
The words came without drama.
“One night a cop found her four blocks away in slippers.”
Emma folded the envelope into her tote.
“She thought she was walking me to kindergarten.”
I said nothing.
“She couldn’t stay alone after that.”
“So you quit school.”
“I took leave.”
“That became quitting.”
“Life got expensive.”
Her mouth lifted without humor.
“I learned exactly how expensive memory can be.”
The sentence stayed with me.
“You should go back.”
“Excellent.”
She folded her arms.
“I’ll alert the financial system.”
“I can pay for it.”
“No.”
“You knew I was going to say that.”
“I could see it forming.”
“It would mean nothing to me.”
“That’s the problem.”
I frowned.
She stepped closer to the desk.
“You keep saying that like it makes things simple.”
“If I can afford to help, why shouldn’t I?”
“Because then I owe you.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would feel like I did.”
“That’s not the same.”
“It is when you’re the one feeling it.”
I leaned back.
“So you would rather work yourself unconscious than accept help?”
“No.”
“That sounds exactly like what you did.”
“I would rather build a life I can keep.”
Her voice stayed calm.
“You can solve my next bill.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, if the only problem is the bill.”
She looked tired suddenly.
“My mom could live another ten years.”
“Then we plan for ten years.”
“We?”
The word stopped me.
Emma noticed.
Neither of us spoke.
She picked up the tote.
“That’s what I mean.”
I hated that she was right again.
“I’m not good at this.”
The admission came so quietly I nearly pretended I hadn’t said it.
Emma remained still.
“At what?”
“Whatever this is.”
She looked at me for a long moment.
“Neither am I.”
“You seem pretty certain.”
“I’m bluffing.”
That surprised a laugh out of me.
She smiled.
Then footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Luke entered without knocking.
He saw Emma and stopped.
“Oh.”
“You can leave,” I said.
“I just got here.”
“Practice.”
Emma laughed.
Luke pointed at her.
“See, this is why I liked you.”
“You barely knew me.”
“I liked your effect on him.”
“My effect?”
“He used to be worse.”
“I’m sitting right here.”
Luke crossed to the bar and poured water.
“You should’ve seen him last year.”
“Luke.”
“He fired a gardener because leaves fell into the pool.”
“The gardener was supposed to remove them.”
“They came from a tree.”
“I know how leaves work.”
Emma stared at me.
“You fired someone over leaves?”
“No.”
Luke drank.
“You tried.”
“The man kept his job.”
“Because I stopped you.”
Emma shook her head slowly.
“This explains so much.”
“Both of you can leave.”
Luke nodded toward her bag.
“You staying?”
“No.”
My chest tightened again.
She looked at me.
“I start the hotel tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Six.”
“Then why are you still here?”
“I was leaving.”
The words came sharper than I intended.
Her expression cooled.
I hated myself immediately.
“Emma.”
“No, it’s okay.”
She adjusted the tote.
“You’re busy thinking.”
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Turn everything into a joke when you’re angry.”
Her mouth opened.
Then closed.
Luke quietly put down his glass.
I continued before pride could stop me.
“I’m not angry that you’re leaving.”
She waited.
“I’m angry that I don’t know what happens after you do.”
The honesty frightened me as soon as it existed.
Emma’s face softened.
“You could call me.”
I stared at her.
She reached into the tote and pulled out the back of an old receipt.
Luke looked toward the ceiling as if appealing to God for patience.
Emma borrowed a pen from my desk and wrote a number.
She slid the receipt toward me.
“There.”
I looked at it.
“This is your number?”
“No, it’s the Chicago Bears.”
Luke snorted.
I picked up the receipt.
“What if I call?”
“Then I might answer.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“Relationships involve uncertainty.”
I looked up sharply.
Emma’s cheeks colored.
“I didn’t mean relationships like relationships.”
Luke turned away.
His shoulders moved.
“Get out,” I told him.
“I’m trying.”
He was openly laughing now.
Emma covered her face.
“This is why I didn’t want to say anything.”
“Luke.”
“I’m gone.”
He left.
The door closed.
Emma and I looked at each other.
“You can still call,” she said.
“Not at four in the morning.”
“No promises.”
“I mean it.”
“What if I’m dying?”
“Call 911.”
“What if I’m bored?”
“Read a book.”
“What if I miss you?”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Emma froze.
So did I.
For once, she had no sarcastic answer.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.
“Then call.”
She walked to the door.
My hand closed around the small paper receipt.
“Emma.”
She turned.
“I’m sorry I fired you.”
She studied my face.
“That was terrible timing.”
May you like
“I’m not practiced.”
“I noticed.”
