Emilia
“Let’s go people, time to eat!” Harold’s voice bellows into the room.
Rolling her eyes, Jen links our arms together and leads our little group toward the dining room where everyone is gathering. Along the way, we stop to greet Aunt Rosie and my cousin Annelly, who must have been in the kitchen helping with the food.
As usual, Mom has gone all out. The large rectangular table is set with enough tableware for the 5-course meal she typically serves. The two large flower centerpieces are surrounded by tapered candles, which have already been lit. The dishes, the flowers, the decor, all of it is stark white, which goes with the superficial elegance my mother seems to like.
As I look around at each of the place cards, I’m surprised to find Mom has Lucas sitting next to me in what would normally be Creed’s seat. On the other side of Lucas, Harold sits at the head of the table across from my mother. Lucas, me, and the girls take up one side, while Ben, Jen, Annelly, and Aunt Rosie take up the other.
Though this is the home and family I grew up with, I feel like an outsider. This is probably because I haven’t attended one of these dinners in over three years.
Mom started hosting these after Jen and I moved back from college. By then, Creed and I were together, so having him come with me ensured Harold would be on his best behavior. That all changed after Mallory was born when Creed’s new job required he be away for weeks at a time.
I initially tried to carry on the family tradition, but Harold's constant mocking made it impossible for me to continue. The first few dinners I missed were a huge point of contention between Mom and me, but eventually, she came to accept what the rest of us already knew. Her Sunday dinners would be far more enjoyable if I wasn’t there.
“My, it’s been a long time since we had a full table. When Creed gets back, we might have to buy a new dining room set, honey.” Mom tells Harold with a laugh, while I fidget at the mention of my husband.
“Yeah, well, that’s if he comes back,” Harold responds casually, as he piles spoonfuls of food onto his plate. “I reckon by now he’s found himself a mistress and is out there enjoying a life of leisure.” Harold chuckles out loud like the idea of my husband abandoning and being unfaithful to me is something to joke about.
Appalled, I can’t help it when my gaze snaps to his. As if pleased with himself, he shoots me a condescending grin.
“Aww… don’t you worry your pretty little head, stepdaughter of mine. If he dares show up here, he’ll have to deal with me. It’s part of my job, you know? What I signed up for when I married your ma. To take you on as my burden, come hell or high water,” he leans forward, laying a meaty hand on Lucas’s forearm. “And a handful she has been, I tell you. That girl’s got more issues than anyone I know,” he chuckles.
Pretending I’m not affected by his remark, I turn to check on the girls who, to my relief, are busy coloring on their placemats. Thankfully, they’re unaware of the awful things being said about their mom and dad. Taking the opportunity to disengage from the conversation, I reach for their plates and begin to serve them.
As my self-appointed savior, Jen steps in to redirect the spotlight away from me. “Actually, I would look into getting a bigger table anyway because…” she pauses. “We’re pregnant!”
The room explodes with elation as everyone stands to offer hugs and congratulatory support to the parents-to-be. Everyone here is aware of their long struggle with infertility, and as such are thrilled by the news.
Still shaken by Harold’s comments, it takes a great deal of effort to fake my way through the celebration. It’s not until I feel Lucas’s hand squeezing mine under the table that I realize he’s noticed I’m not okay. As much as I appreciate the gesture, it’s a reminder I need to do a better job at masking the effect Harold has on me.
For most of dinner, the conversation remains on Jen’s baby news. There are lots of smiles and pleasant exchanges, but after the way this all started, I don’t have it in me to partake. Instead, I sit quietly, a fake smile planted on my face as I pick at my food. My eyes follow the conversation with great interest, even as I’m stuck in my head wishing I were anywhere but here.
“Well?”
The room has grown quiet, and I realize Harold is talking to me. In that split second, my stomach twists.
“I-I’m sorry?” I ask nervously.
“I said, have you heard from your deadbeat husband?” He over annunciates the question, like I’m hard of hearing. When the blood drains from my face, a smirk pulls up at the corner of his mouth.
This is it.
Like the snake that he is, he’s poised to strike, and like the fool that I am, I showed up today so sure I could handle him.
Knowing where this conversation is headed, I glance over at the girls who, like everyone else, have caught on to the tension building in the room.
“I got them, Emi.” My cousin Annelly, who’s sitting across from me, stands. With a sad, understanding smile, she adds, “I’m done, anyway.”
Relieved and grateful for the backup, I watch as she takes both the girls by their little hands and guides them toward the family room. Lyssie reverts to blissful unawareness, gabbing away at Annelly about the iPad I promised they could play with after dinner. But Mally, she hesitates to leave me. Her sad eyes tell me she understands far more than she should for a little girl her age. Something that not only hurts, but that I know I’ll have to help her work through later. For now, I push my feelings aside to give her a nod and a reassuring smile. It must be enough, for she follows Annelly out.
Attempting to delay the inevitable, I take a sip of my wine before giving him an answer. “Not for a little while now. Like I’ve said, we can’t talk while he’s on a case.”
“Hmm. Yes, so you’ve said. But here’s the thing. It’s obvious he’s stringing you along. How long are you planning to let this go on? I mean, no one’s seen him in like what…” he looks across the table at my mother, who helpfully holds up three fingers. “Three years? Holy shit, girl! I’d say it’s about time you wake the hell up. He’s probably run off. Left you and those kids. It’s a damn shame, but you know what’s worse…” he pauses, his eyes slanting as his glare deepens, “watching you act so damn oblivious.”
Humiliated, a lone tear spills down my face. Dropping my head to blink the emotion away, I do my best to maintain my composure. It’s too late to hide the fact he’s gotten to me, but I’ll be damned if I give him the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart.
Thinking back to what Nic said about demanding his respect, I wish more than anything I could do just that. Unfortunately, I can’t get past the part of me that agrees with his assessment. I should have stood up to Creed before he left. I should have demanded he abide by his vows, that he put his family first, even above his job.
But I didn’t.
In the three years he’s been gone, I’ve done nothing to fix my situation. Not even taking the out he gave me with those damn divorce papers. For three years, I’ve done nothing but sit around, waiting for his return. Allowing life to happen to me, as I sat there feeling sorry for myself and wondering why me. Maybe Harold has it right. Why me?
Because I don’t act.
Because I don’t fight.
Because I don’t have the will to persevere, which makes everything Harold is saying true.
“Well? What are you going to do about it?” I hear him ask. When I don’t answer, he turns to Lucas and tells him, “See? This is what I’m talking about. Instead of taking the bull by the horns, she sits there like a little mouse, crying about it. Boo hoo hoo…”
“Maybe if you’d stop treating her like your damn punching bag…” Jen interjects, her voice laced with fury.
“Oh stop it, Jen. Stop defending her when you know I’m right. The girl needs to know she looks like a damn fool. Everyone sees it. Everyone knows what’s going on,” Harold sneers.
“Harold, honey, let’s leave this conversation for another day. You’re upsetting the mama-to-be, which isn’t good for the baby.” Mom chides her husband, while simultaneously cutting me down by coming to Jen’s defense and not mine.
“No Muriel. This needs to be said. Acting like her friend and tiptoeing around her issues isn’t helping her. The girl is due some tough love.”
At his comments, my breath catches in my throat and my lower lip quivers as I fight harder than I ever have to hold back a sob. Acting like my friend? Neither of them has ever acted like my friend, let alone given me anything remotely resembling love.
“Jesus Christ, pull yourself together.” I hear him slam down his drink, the force making the dishes around the table clink. “You’re setting a terrible example for those girls. And Mallory, look at what you’re doing to that poor little girl…”
“That’s it.” Luc’s hand comes around mine, and the next thing I know, I’m standing behind him, shielded from Harold’s beady gaze. “We’re done here. Aunt Muriel, dinner was delicious. The company, debatable. Now, Harold, you don’t know me, and I sure as hell don’t know you, which gets you a pass this one time. But the next time I catch you talking to her like that, let alone looking at her with that smarmy smirk of yours, I swear to fucking Christ, it will be the last thing you do. And trust me on this asshole, you won’t see me coming. As for the rest of you, shame on you.”
And with that, he leads me out of the room. Suffocating under a thick cloud of shame, I follow his lead without question.
“Annelly, I’m taking Embree outside for a minute. You okay to watch the girls a little longer?” I hear him ask my cousin, who must agree for the next thing I know, we’re outside.
At the front porch steps, Lucas leads me to take a seat. When he crouches down in front of me, he pulls my gaze to his.
“Hey,” he says in a soft voice, as those sea-green eyes scan over my face. “You okay?”
Embarrassed he now knows how screwed up I am, I look away. Determined to hold on to what little dignity I have left, I force a smile as I wipe the tears from my face.
“Yeah. I…” then nothing. No other words come because I’m choked up by wave after wave of unrelenting sorrow. My eyes blur, so I close them before dropping my head into my hands in time to catch the sobs that break free. Desperate to put distance between me and this place, I tell him, “I can’t go back in there. Please! I can’t go back in there.”
“Shh.” He pulls me close, allowing me to bury my face in his chest as heaving sobs overtake me. “That’s alright. You don’t have to. What do you say I go in, grab the girls, then take you home? You can wait out here if you like.” Fighting to get my crying under control, I just nod. “Here, why don’t you sit in my truck while I get the girls ready?”
When he pulls back, I avert my gaze and give him a nod. But then I remember, “No. The car seats…”
He must understand what I’m trying to say, for he agrees. “Okay. We’ll take your car, but I’d still prefer you wait in my truck while I run inside. I’ll have Ben or Jen drop my truck off at your place when they leave. Will that work?”
I nod. With a finger, he gently tugs on my chin and forces me to look at him.
“I need you to hear this. What happened in there is bullshit. Whatever is going on in your life, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re doing the best you can. You are so damned strong, Embree. I could see it plain as day, just from the few hours you spent with me last week. If that man in there can’t see the loving, compassionate, amazing woman you are, then that’s on him. Regardless of what that asshole says, or how your husband is making you feel, you are fucking incredible. That’s the god-honest truth. Now, I just need you to believe it, too.”
“I don’t… I don’t know how, Luc.” I whisper. “It’s all so darn hard. Everything’s so darn hard.” I sob.
Gently squeezing my hand, he looks at me. “You can do this. I believe in you and until you’re ready to believe it too, I’ll be here to keep reminding you. Whatever is going on, I know you’ll get through it.”
“Promise me.” I hate myself for doing this to him, but I’m desperate and pathetic enough to use his pity to coerce him into staying. “Promise me you’ll be here. That you won’t leave me behind again.”
A dark shadow passes over him before his expression falls. Blowing out a shaky breath, he meets my gaze. I can tell he’s trying to hide his emotions, but I don’t miss the pain and trepidation simmering underneath.
“I have to leave. Tomorrow.” His voice is rough, his expression conveys the apology he’s not ready to voice. “But I promise I’ll be back to visit as soon as I can. In the meantime, we can talk whenever you need. You can call or text. Just because I’m not here doesn’t mean you’re not here.” He lifts my hand and places my palm over his heart. “I promise you. I’ll never leave you behind again. No matter where I am in the world, if you need me, say the word and I will come.”
“But you won’t stay,” I whisper.
“That’s right. I can’t stay.”
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Author’s Note:
This was an eye-opening exchange for Lucas! Up until now, he was under the assumption that the family he left behind all those years ago, was now a cohesive unit. But this exchange with her stepfather, along with the way no one came to Embree's defense, pushed him to the edge.
Do you think knowing all that Embree is going through will encourage Lucas to change his mind and stay? What do you think about Embree's relationship with her family? I can’t wait to read all your comments!
NEW CHAPTERS post at 7:00 PM EST on Tuesdays & Fridays!!!
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