Emily opened her eyes, not wanting to relive it but knowing she owed him an explanation. Knowing that Rob would understand. “I told Ezra I wanted to take a leave of absence from NYU and his response was not what I would have hoped.”
“Ah,” Rob said. “But it’s not his decision.”
“Right.” Emily leaned farther back into the plush seat. “Not his decision.”
“I learned that the hard way when we were in college. I can make my own decisions, but I can’t make anyone else’s. I couldn’t make yours, as much as I’d wanted to.”
She turned toward him, feeling again like she had to apologize. “My decision seemed like it was the right one at the time—to give you up, to give music up—and I truly believed it was for years. But now . . . I’m not so sure. Playing on stage again—it felt like it reawakened something in me that is . . . I don’t know . . . maybe essential to who I am. Like in making that decision years ago I’d lost part of myself.”
“I can’t speak to the music, but I think in the end, us breaking up was the right choice at the time,” Rob said, reaching across the middle seat to put his hand on top of hers. “It’s like the butterfly effect. If you’d chosen differently, we might not be here. I might not have a hit song, or two gorgeous girls, or this chance to reconnect with you. I’m real happy with where I ended up, so no reason to second-guess, at least not on my behalf.”
Emily felt her eyes start to fill with tears, because she wasn’t quite sure she was happy with where she’d ended up. She was second-guessing on her own behalf. Second-guessing the decision to allow her pain to dictate her life.
“I’m glad,” she said to him. “I really am. And . . . I hope I’ll be able to say that same thing soon.”
He gave her hand a small squeeze. “Me too, Queenie,” he said. “Me too.”
As the car drove past palm trees and hotel driveways, she wondered how long it would take before she was happy where she ended up. She hoped not another thirteen years.
52
Emily flipped through a rack of pants, realizing that what she wore when she performed in New York would feel out of place here. Instead she pulled out a short black tank dress and a sheer blouse. Its pattern was a whirl of green and amber that she knew would bring out the green in her hazel eyes. Holding them, she felt excitement pulse through her body.
She walked to a small dressing room and shut the door, hidden from Rob’s view. As she undressed, the air felt different on her skin. She pulled the dress over her head. It skimmed her body, ending midthigh, the thin straps accentuating her shoulders and collarbone. She tied the blouse just under her breasts and left the dressing room to check out the outfit in the store’s three-way mirror. She looked like a new version of herself. Not like she was trying to re-create her college image, but like someone she could be now. She noticed Rob reflected behind her, quietly watching. She turned around. “What do you think?”
“I think yes,” he said, his eyes focused in a way that brought heat to Emily’s cheeks. “I like the boots.”
She looked down at her feet. She’d thrown on the first pair of shoes she’d seen in her closet before she left her apartment, and they were a pair of cowboy boots she had gotten when she and Ezra spent a long weekend in Nashville last year.
“It’ll go with your whole down-home Texas thing. Howdy,” Emily said, imitating his on-stage twang. “I’m real glad y’all are here tonight.”
Rob laughed. “The audience eats it up. And it’s all y’all,” he said, still laughing. “I’ve gotta make sure I include everyone.”
“I’ll remember that,” Emily said, walking to the dressing room.
“You said you wanted some flip-flops, too, right?” Rob asked. “Did you bring a bathing suit?”
Emily stopped. “I didn’t,” she said. There was a sale rack of bathing suits to the left of the dressing rooms. She walked toward them and started flipping through the options. She pulled a green one-piece off the rack for a closer look.
“How about this one?” Rob asked. He was carrying a black bikini with white piping. “Didn’t you have something like this the summer we were first together? You wore it when we went to Coney Island.”
Emily hadn’t thought about that bikini in years, but she remembered it now. It was strapless—a bandeau top and a low-rise bottom that tied together on the sides. The bikini Rob was holding was cut differently. This one was a halter and the bottoms were a little more modest.