44
Before Tessa agreed to go to the ER, she wanted Emily to promise that she wouldn’t call Chris and that she wouldn’t let anyone take Zoe except her mother. But Chris still had parental rights. Emily had to call him.
“I’m not going unless you promise,” Tessa said, through tears. “I don’t want him to have her. He didn’t ever want her.”
Emily hesitated. “I promise,” she finally said, holding Tessa close. “I promise. I’ll keep her with me until your mom can make it here.” It wasn’t the right choice to make, but it was the right choice to make for now.
Tessa nodded, her breath shuddering. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”
And while Tessa was being evaluated by someone from psychiatry, Emily sat with Zoe on her lap, rocking the baby back to sleep when she cried. Emily thought about the choices people make and what those choices lead to down the line. And she thought about the choices that people have thrust upon them. Things that aren’t actually choices at all. Tessa hadn’t chosen for Chris to leave, to have a mind so close to the breaking point that this crisis was the result of that nonchoice.
Emily hadn’t chosen to have a miscarriage, or have a song written about her by an ex-boyfriend, or have Ezra disappear for a few days. But she had chosen to go to Rob’s show, have coffee with him afterward, perform in the showcase, and let him hold her hand as they walked to get pizza. She’d chosen to accept his arms when they offered her comfort. She’d chosen to let his lips meet hers. But she’d also chosen to stop. She’d chosen not to go to his hotel with him. She’d chosen to call Ezra, to honor the vow she’d made to him.
Life was a blend of choices and not choices, things that we had control over and things we didn’t. Her mom had once told her that it’s not what happens to you but how you respond that determines your path in life. Emily had thought of it then in terms of her mother’s acceptance of her disease, of the honest way she existed while knowing she was going to die—sooner rather than later—and her determination to spend each day she could in the best way possible, no matter what constituted “best” at that time.
But now, Emily realized, it was a philosophy that covered all of life, not just when you’re faced with tragedy. Things happen, and you react, and those reactions determine your path. If she had acted differently back in college, she could be living a different life right now. Maybe in Los Angeles as a working musician, or maybe in a New York suburb, giving piano lessons to kids like she once was. Maybe she and Rob would’ve become stars, traveled the world, bought a house in some place with a romantic-sounding name like Aix-en-Provence and raised four children there off the sales of their albums. Or maybe they would have failed dramatically and ended up in a downward spiral of drugs and depression. There were infinite possibilities.
And infinite possibilities for Tessa, too. And for Ezra. How he would respond to her now, in the future. And for Zoe, asleep in Emily’s arms. There were so many lives that could unfurl ahead of her. So many choices other people would make for her and she would make for herself.
Tessa came out with one of the psych nurses to say good-bye to Zoe for at least a few days. She’d decided to check herself into the hospital. Emily agreed it was the best thing for her and for Zoe. She gave Tessa a hug and left with her mother’s phone number and instructions to call her once it became morning for real. “I don’t want her to have to wake up in the middle of the night to this. I’m here. I’ll be better soon. And you’re keeping Zoe safe. Tell her that.”
Emily said she would and promised again that she wouldn’t let Chris take Zoe, and then she picked up the diaper bag she had hurriedly packed at Tessa’s apartment and headed home. More choices lay ahead for everyone. And more things would happen that nobody chose at all.
xxxii
Ezra and I moved in together today, officially. I know it seems old-fashioned, to wait until after we were married, but between his jobs and my job, and all the things you have to do to plan even the smallest wedding, figuring out our living situation seemed like the last on our list of things to do. We stayed together all the time, sometimes in his place and sometimes in mine, but actually packing up our things, finding a place we both wanted to live in together, as our first home, we did that when we got back from Mexico.
Initially, Ezra wanted me to move into his place because it was bigger than mine and it would be easier than finding a new place to rent until we had enough money for a down payment, but I liked the idea of us starting fresh together, finding someplace that we could decorate however we chose, a mishmash of him and me, an embodiment of us.