"
No, baby, no
. Ed did not even come close to what I felt for your father. Ed was just a friend. Or so I thought. Maximillian was the first man I ever loved. The only man. He gave me you and made happier than I ever thought possible. I lost him and it nearly killed me, but it didn't because I had you. And then I lost you and nothing seemed to—"
"And I almost lost you! Do you have any idea what seeing you on the bathroom floor did to me? You would have died if I hadn't drank two glasses of water before going to bed. Do you know how lucky you are that I have a small bladder? Huh, do you," Emily demanded.
Amé nodded vigorously.
"You were going to leave
me
to face life
alone
. You didn't care enough about me to
try
. I gave you every chance I could, but you didn't care enough about me or yourself to
fight
."
"I can't change the past, Emily. I would, if I could. I would go back in a heartbeat and stop your father from getting into that damned car. I would change everything. But I can't."
"
Then what do you want from me
," Emily asked between choked sobs.
"I want another chance. You gave me so many before and didn't see them for what they were. But now I do and I want another chance."
Emily froze.
I gave you every chance and you didn't give me a single one
. Jake's words echoed over and over again in her mind. "I didn't see them for what they were," she whispered, repeating her mother's words.
"I was too concerned with my own problems to consider the consequences to you."
"This is too much. I can't take anymore." Emily closed her eyes and wanted to crawl away and hide in a corner. She'd been blind not to see it. "I give up. You win. He wins.
Everyone wins
."
"Emmie? Honey, are you okay?"
Emily shook her head and surprised herself with a pathetic, fragile laugh. "Never better. I'm having one of the best days of my life. I'm fighting with my mother. I fought with my secretary. The doctor. My best friend. My other best friend. And Jake. So I'm feeling just hunky-dory."
"Jake? Who's Jake?"
Emily pasted a perky smile on her face and answered in a sing-song voice, "Why, mommy dearest, he's the father of my baby."
Amé's jaw dropped and she paled.
"Surprise. Grandma."
"Oh-my-God. You're pregnant."
"I said much the same thing when the doctor told me," Emily murmured.
"You're…
Emily
."
"Yep. That's who I am."
"But you're… and that means that… ohmigoodness, Emmie, I'm gonna be a
granny
."
For some reason that sounded funny to Emily and she chuckled. Then she laughed. Then she doubled over in hysterics.
"Emily, it's not that funny." Her mother wrapped an arm around her shoulder and guided her to the couch.
Emily laughed harder.
"For Heaven's sake, stop laughing." Amé snickered. "I can handle being a granny. It was being a mother which I didn't handle very well."
"Oh my…." Emily's amusement fled as quickly as it arrived. "What if I can't handle it? What if I—"
Amé clasped Emily's hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "You can handle it. I know you can. You took care of me when I needed you, didn't you?"
"Yes, but—"
"Besides, you'll have Jake to help you. That makes all the difference in the world."
"I'm not so sure about that. Jake and I aren't exactly getting along right now."
Amé's brows drew together. "Emily."
Emily looked everywhere but her mother's face. "Yes?"
"He does know about the baby. Doesn't he?"
"Well, not exactly," Emily hedged.
"Either he does or he doesn't."
"Mom, you don't understand. Things between Jake and I are kind of messed up and we aren't really getting along right now."
"You got along well enough to make a baby," Amé pointed out.
"Oh, well, we get along really well when it comes to that part of the relationship. It's all the other stuff which is… kind of messed up."
"How messed up is kind of messed up?"
Emily thought about it for a second. "It's rather complicated to explain."
"Then explain it. And start at the beginning."
"It's a long story."
"There's no other place I'd rather be than sitting here with you." Amé must have read Emily's shock, because she smiled and chucked Emily under the chin. "It's never too late to change, Emily. I ought to know. You screamed it at me enough times. Now, tell me all about Jake and don't leave out a single detail. I want to know what kind of man snared my little girl's heart."
For the next several hours, Emily poured her soul out to her mother. She told her everything there was to tell. Including a few things which she hadn't mentioned to Marilyn. They ordered pizza for lunch and Chinese takeout for dinner. Her mother listened to every word and laughed at all the right times, muttered under her breath at the appropriate times, and generally did what mothers were supposed to do.
Such as, being there for their daughters.
At first, spilling her guts to her mother was awkward, but, as the evening progressed, Emily grew more and more comfortable bearing her soul to the one person who knew Emily and not her counterpart, Lee. It was a novel experience and one which helped Emily put a lot of things into perspective. Something she needed badly.
It was nearing the witching hour and Emily was rapidly turning into a pumpkin when her mother asked one last question before rendering her verdict.
"Do you love him?"
Emily nodded.
Her mother smiled. "Then give him a chance. Go to him and tell him about the baby."
"But—"
"No buts. If you feel for your Jake what I feel for your father, then you have to go after him with everything you have. Love like that is too precious and too rare to let pride get in the way."
Emily sighed. "I suppose you're right."
"Don't worry. I have a feeling Jake is as anxious as you to make up."
"Why do you say that?"
Amé smiled. "Because a man fitting your description of Jake has been sitting on his balcony watching us for the past two hours. Yes, indeed. I'd say Jake is very anxious to patch things up."
Emily clung to the first glimmer of hope she'd felt since the night Jake left her on her bedroom floor. Then the doubt set in and she wrapped her arms around her midriff, hugging herself.
Her mother seemed to understand her fears, because she hugged Emily close and whispered, "You'll do fine. Everything will work out."
"D'you think so?"
"I know so. Now, to bed with you. We've got a lot of planning to do tomorrow, if you intend on telling Jake before the baby's born."
"You're spending the night," Emily asked.
"Only if you want me to."
Emily stared down at her toes and thought about everything that'd happened today. Her normally calm stable life was turned upside down. She was miserable. Alone. Scared. And tired. All she wanted was to find a tranquil spot where emotional roller coasters weren't allowed.
"Mom, I don't know how we're going to work this. There's a lot of…
stuff
between us. Good stuff. Bad stuff."
Amé waited for Emily to continue.
"I've seen a lot and I've done a lot. I've done things you don't approve of and I know you've done things I don't approve of." Emily hesitated, then said, "But there just comes a time in a person's life when… you get tired. Mom, I'm tired. Tired of holding grudges. Tired of being strong all the time. Tired of fighting."
In the end, it wasn't very hard to make her decision. In fact, it was easy and made her feel lighter. Freer. And one step closer to that tranquil place she needed so much.
"I'm tired of being alone." Emily turned to her mother and picked up her hand. "Please.
Stay
."
"I would love to. Thank you, Emmie." Amé smiled through her tears. "
Thank you
."
"How's it going, son?"
"I'll know once I get this…." The oil pan bolt lurched under the pressure Jake exerted on it. "Bolt off." Sweat trickled down his face. "Toss me a rag."
Colonel Jed knelt down and passed a towel to Jake. "What the…?" He frowned at a stick protruding from the engine. "I thought Katie promised she wouldn't run over any more trees." He pulled the stick out.
"No, she promised she wouldn't knock over any more trees. If it's on the ground, she considers it fair game." Jake swiped his forehead, then handed the towel back to his father. He'd hoped that spending Sunday afternoon giving his father a hand with a few home chores would minimize the sting of missing Emily.
He'd hoped wrong. If anything, the family scene intensified the burning desire to see her. Hold her. Talk to her. Listen to her. Look at her.
Have her
.
Colonel Jed grunted and stood up.
Jake watched in morbid fascination as a thick black sludge drained—or rather, plopped—into an old can his father kept for refuse oil. "How many quarts are supposed to come out?"
"Five."
"You sure?"
"Of course, I'm sure. Why? How much came out?"
"A pint. Maybe."
"For crying out loud," Colonel Jed exclaimed. "How many times do I have to tell her to check the oil?"
"Dad—"
"How many times do I have to tell her to—"
"Dad," Jake called. "No matter how many times you tell Katie, she still won't get it."
"That's it. Next time, your sister gets under there and change the damn oil herself."
"Remember what happened the last time you tried that?"
"You just had to go and remind me, didn't you? Crying over a broken nail. And it wasn't even real." Colonel Jed smacked dust from his pants leg and griped under his breath. "Only a woman would buy a piece of plastic, glue it to her finger, and tap it on the table in that rat-a-tat-tat-
tat
noise which drives men insane.
Women
."
Jake chuckled. "Did you and Mom have words again?"
"Son, your mother and I never have words. She dishes out orders and I obey. It's as simple as that." A car pulled up in the driveway and Jed said, "It's about time your sister returned with the oil."
"Do me a favor, Dad. Go and make sure Katie remembers to pull the emergency brake up. I'm not in the mood to repair another fence."