*
While Tallie was in her bedroom getting ready for lunch, Emmett was on the couch, composing what he knew would be his last email to Joel.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: i still care about you too
joel,
i don’t mind telling lionel you mentioned him. you know how lionel is. i’m going to his halloween party with a date, so the answer to your question about whether or not i’m seeing someone is yes. i am. it’s pretty new. i just met him recently. he’s a chef. my mom met him for the first time this morning when she stopped by. she talked his ear off, of course, but he did a great job of listening to her. he’s quiet anyway, so it worked. it’s too early to say what’ll happen with us, but i really like him. a lot. he watches funny girl with me and does the dishes.
you know the end of funny girl always makes me cry, but now it makes me wonder what would’ve happened if i’d fought harder to stick it out with you. all that country-song shit about standing by your man. maybe if i’d had an affair of my own to even it out? although the baby trumps it all, right? clearly you win. is that how this works?
speaking of…i can’t stop thinking about adopting a baby. maybe soon? i have the money and the stability and it feels like the right time. at last. cue etta james.
i had no way of knowing if i could be happy alone again! and being happy is one of those things that feels phonier and phonier the more you talk about it, but…i feel like if i squint, i can see it. and i need that hope. the hope alone is enough for me.
but i do wonder who knew about your affair. everyone at the art museum? all of your friends? all of hers? maybe none of it matters anymore. i don’t know. at least i don’t have to put the chips back in the pantry for you now, right? that’s your new wife’s job.
there’s no need for you to be in a rush to write me back. i think this quick reconnection has been good for both of us and honestly, i wish you well. the point is, by the grace of god, i forgive you. and i will be here, squinting.
truly,
tallie
*
“Tell me about your grandmother Ginny,” Tallie had said to him after they’d gotten their water with lemon at the Irish pub.
He told Tallie his grandmother’s real name, Virginia. But he left out the part about her living on Emmett Lane for most of his life. He told her she’d given him his gold cross necklace and that Ginny died seven years ago. He talked about her house—her kitchen, the pigs and chickens she kept in her backyard, the beehives and fresh honey.
“My mom’s parents were great, too, by the way. They’re both gone now. Married for sixty-five years,” he said.
“I never met either of my grandfathers because they died before I was born, but my grandmothers were pretty great, too.”
“Tell me about them.”
“I asked you first.”
“I asked you second.”
Tallie scrunched her nose up at him. “My dad’s mom was a quilter and a visiting nurse. Made the best pound cake in the entire world. My mom’s mom worked at the greyhound racetrack. She smelled like violets and drank her bourbon straight,” she said.
“My kind of people,” Emmett said. “Did they live here? You spent a lot of time with them?”
Tallie nodded. “Lionel and I spent most of my childhood summers at my maternal grandmother’s house with my cousins while my parents worked. She lived in the West End. Okay, seriously, I’m done! Now, you.”
“So yeah. My grandmother Ginny and her sisters were beekeepers, which was equal parts fun and terrifying,” he said. The pub waitress set down one brown wicker basket of Irish soda bread, another filled with sourdough. She slid softened shamrock-foil rectangles of butter across the table and asked if they’d need more time.
“I’ll have the fish and chips, please. And so will he if he likes fish and chips,” Tallie said to the waitress. “Do you like fish and chips? They have the best. It’s my favorite,” Tallie said to him, not needing to look at the laminated menu flashing and catching green light as she handed it over.
“I’ll take the fish and chips,” Emmett said, loving how easy Tallie had made it for him.
（The waitress’s name is Kelly. Her name tag has a shamrock on it. She’s wearing slip-on sneakers. Green. Tallie is pretty and red-lipped at her side. Some of her hair is down. She put on makeup, dressed up a little. “Tunnel of Love” by Bruce Springsteen is playing. An American bar…even an Irish pub…isn’t an American bar if they don’t play at least one Bruce Springsteen song a day.）