Dear Emily by Julie Ann Levin Page A

said, and then smiled.
“What can I get for you?”
    Amy took their uncomplicated order of a
pitcher and wings, and all the while Jack stared at her. He didn't
speak, or chime in when prompted. He stared at her and let his
friends do the ordering. This was bad because his friends would
order the really, hot wings, and he hated the really hot
wings.
    He thought about Emily and her family
every day of his life, but to actually see Emily's sister in front
of him was a whole other experience.
    He hated the effect he seemed to have
on her. She couldn't wait to get away from the table. Her eyes
darted in every direction, but he kept his eyes on her. She took a
steadying breath before allowing herself to focus on him. They
regarded each other for a few beats before she high-tailed it
toward the kitchen.
    “I'm embarrassed for you,” Marc
said.
    Jack never told his friends about
Emily. He didn't like the disgust or the sympathy that might result
in him divulging such secrets. For some reason, there was always
sympathy. Or maybe pity? It was hard to tell the difference. Most
people couldn't know what it felt like to be him. No one knows what
it feels like to be anybody.
    “Jack, a little longer and she was
going to file a restraining order,” Jerry added.
    “Ex-girlfriend?” Marc
guessed.
    “No,” Jack said, shaking his head, both
in response and to shake Amy from his mind. “We're from the same
town.”
    “Good; I can ask her out then?” Marc
asked, straightening his posture.
    “No. You can't ask her out. She's off
limits.”
    “You have to call it like everyone
else, Jack,” Marc said.
    “It's not like that.” He shifted his
gaze to the flat screen as if to end the topic of conversation.
“She's off limits,” he said again, driving it home in their heads.
His friends did not press the issue, even after Amy returned to
deliver their first pitcher of beer.
    Jack's curiosity flared as a single
thought rose above the noise of the pub. What was Amy Knight doing
working at a sports bar anyway? If he knew anything about Phil and
Dianne Knight, and he knew enough, they would never allow their
daughter to work at a place like this. So, what was Amy doing
there?
    After delivering the pitcher, Amy
pushed Jack to the back of her mind, because that's the healthiest
way to deal with feelings and emotions, right? Instead, she went
through the motions of taking orders and fulfilling orders in a
never-ending cycle. She suspected she would not get a good tip from
Jack Harper's table. She'd been less than attentive and only
circling back around when necessary.
    Like for the check.
    She hated herself each time she
returned to Jack's table. She could have given the ticket back to
Kelly, but Amy chose to serve the beer and wings herself. She
wasn't upset at seeing Jack. He didn't cause a rush of emotions to
surface. A rush of emotions would imply she wasn't already thinking
of Emily.
    Emily was always there in the mindful
part of Amy's brain--no--it was the void that was always
there.
     
     
    With her shift over, she headed for the
parking lot. It was a slow, reluctant trek and she managed a smile
to see her car in the parking lot.
    Pleased it wasn't stolen, she closed
the door behind her and sat in the car, studying the back seat. It
bulged with all her worldly possessions and she worried someone
would break in through a window.
    The center console of a car not only
does a fantastic job of being a center console; it can also double
as a table. To count money for instance.
    She still didn't have enough for a new
place, which was okay. A lot could change in the blink of an eye,
in the passing of an hour, in the rotation of a day. Amy would
survive. And she would not call her parents.
    Everything is temporary--except for the
permanent things, of course.
    She stowed the money away in her wallet
and back in her black, leather purse. She slipped the key into the
ignition to start the car, except the car wouldn't
start.
    Of course, it