“They were all fine, I guess. Until they weren’t.”
“I keep asking you to talk about everything because I want to help, if I can. I know it’s been a hard few days for you on top of the fact you’re still grieving. And for some, that never goes away. People like to say time makes it easier, but that’s true only for some people. All this to say I appreciate you letting me keep an eye on you this weekend, Emmett,” she said.
“You always focus on how everyone else is doing, so maybe I’m keeping an eye on you, too.”
His words, that truth, made her dizzy. After her divorce, she’d begun thinking of herself as a piece in an art museum—she had to be handled a certain way in the right environment or she’d be ruined. She hadn’t been able to say this aloud to anyone, but it was as if Emmett had listened to all she hadn’t said and somehow knew. She hugged him, comforted by his body heat in that white shirt, those muscles she’d admired earlier, his strong arms now pressed to the sides of her neck. I’m trusting him to do this. And as she imagined him restraining her like that, hugging her and squeezing and never stopping, she relaxed into him more.
“You’re my friend now, you know that? I like you. We’ve shared heart energy so we can never be true strangers again,” she said against his ear.
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. And I like you, too,” he said against hers.
*
Tallie had put on jeans and a comfy oversize black turtleneck sweater after she showered. She’d done her three-minute face of makeup, pulled half her hair up in a messy-on-purpose bun, and left the rest loose to curl and kink in the humid autumn air. When she came out of the bathroom, she found Emmett scrolling through his phone on the couch with her cats purring beside him.
“They’re going to miss you when you leave tomorrow,” she said.
He put his phone in his pocket, stood. “They’re my buddies,” he said, leaning over to pet them one more time.
Tallie expounded on her knowledge of therapy pets, going over to stand in front of the cats, getting on her knees before them, petting their heads, scratching the base of their tails.
“Might be something to think about. There’s been so much scientific research done on therapy animals if you want to read up about it. They’ve started using dogs in courtrooms to soothe anxious people on the stand. Did you have pets growing up?” she asked.
“I had an orange cat named Ginny, after my grandmother. And a big, sweet mutt named Moe.”
She suggested they go for a walk through Fox Commons to one of the restaurants for lunch before they got ready for the Halloween party. Tallie put on her wellies and rain slicker. Emmett picked up his flannel shirt from the couch, and as she watched him slip his arms inside, she wondered if their kitchen hug had lasted too long.
*
Tallie pointed to one of the golf carts as it made its way up the street.
“I have one of those. Oh, you saw it in the garage. Lionel bought it for me when I moved in, but I prefer to walk most of the time,” she said.
She’d tried to talk Lionel out of it, telling him she’d buy one for herself later, but he’d insisted, assuring her it was the way to travel around the posh neighborhood. Her golf cart was myrtle green with cream vinyl and a canopy. She enjoyed driving it and would occasionally scoot herself to the farmer’s market or the bakery in it. Or to the coffee shop to read or poke around on her laptop and scroll through beauty blogs and pin recipes, fashion, and home decorating ideas to her Pinterest boards. In the summer, she and Aisha would drive it to the gelato shop and to the amphitheater to watch the sun set over the lake or to hear free live music on Wednesday nights. Lionel had gotten TLC detailed on the side in leaning white cursive. She liked how the wind felt on her face, how it blew her hair back when she was driving it. But at times she’d felt lonely in it, not having a husband anymore or a boyfriend or a child to fill the passenger seat. It annoyed her that the positive sisters are doin’ it for themselves articles and girl power anthems she read and listened to so often didn’t reach out and touch every shadowy, thorny corner of her anxieties and insecurities.
“I’ll tell you what…on Thursday, I didn’t picture myself walking around this fancy neighborhood, hanging out with a woman. I feel like I’m living someone else’s life,” Emmett said.
“That’s depersonalizing. It’s not someone else’s life, it’s yours. And I’m glad you’re here,” Tallie said, touching his arm.