there that are looking forward to see you before you go away to school.”
“It’s not like he’s going to school on the moon,” I muttered.
“I heard that Donya Elisabeth Stewart,” Sam snapped.
“Whoa,” Emmy said with amusement. “Full name.”
“Ya’ll think this is funny and it’s not,” Sam whined.
Emmet put his pizza down and rested his chin on his folded hands and listened as Sam continued to rant. I felt bad for him. It was his last summer before he was forced to behave somewhat like an adult, and Harvard was no joke. There wouldn’t be too much time for fooling around. Part of me felt he wasn’t going because I would be there, but I told myself how conceited that sounded and shut the thought down.
I cleared my throat and cut Sam off.
“He should stay,” I said. I felt Emmet’s eyes fall on me. “If you force him to go, he’ll be miserable the entire time. Do you really want his last summer as a kid to be miserable?”
Sam sputtered for a moment. “But what about Lucy’s wedding?”
“I won’t miss the wedding,” Emmet promised.
“You’re not going to get your way on this one,” Fred told his wife gently. “Let it go.”
“Can I stay home, too?” Emmy asked with hope.
“No,” Sam, Fred, and Emmet said at the same time.
Sam stopped bugging, but she frowned her way through dinner and barely spoke, which appeased all.
After dinner, I left to go spend the rest of my time with my mom. I made it around the block before I felt the familiar tug and Emmet pulled to the curb. I stopped walking and hesitated before approaching the car. We had barely spoken more than a handful of words since that night on the boardwalk. He had written me a simple apologetic note that said “I’m sorry.” I didn’t acknowledge it and he didn’t push.
I stopped a foot away from the car.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“Speaking up for me at dinner.”
I gave a half shrug. “I would have done the same for anyone. No big deal.”
He flinched a little. He thought I had done it because I cared. I did, but he didn’t need to know that.
“You haven’t forgiven me,” he said, frowning.
I shrugged again. “I forgive you. You won’t be the last guy to call me a slut.”
His eyes darkened. “I didn’t call you a slut, Donya.”
“You implied it. Same difference.”
“I would never call you that.”
“Maybe not directly, but accusing me of getting felt up by Andrew isn’t any better.”
“I was jealous,” he argued softly.
“Well, I get jealous, too,” I snapped. “But you don’t see me making remarks about Stella.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve made a couple of references to couches.”
I bit my lip and crossed my arms defensively. Emmet sighed.
“I didn’t come here to fight with you. I just wanted to thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said curtly.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
He gave me a final look of regret and drove off.
*~*~*
My tether was stretched to the point of pain. I thought it would get better with each passing day, but it didn’t. It got worse. I tried to keep myself busy while I was in Louisiana, even going as far as spending a day cooking and baking with Sam and arguing with her, but the ache was still there. I wondered if he ached, too? Or if he was just having so much fun with his friends and various girls that he didn’t notice?
“What’s on your mind, Kiddo?” Fred asked me one morning at our fishing spot.
I looked over at him. “Who said there’s anything on my mind?”
“A father knows these things,” he grinned. His words warmed me and I smiled. “Now tell me what’s going on in that teenage head of yours.’
I couldn’t tell him the truth, that I was in way over my head – the in part was being in love – with his youngest son who is supposed to be like a brother to me.
That was the first time I really admitted it to myself. I was pretty sure I was in love with Emmet. I couldn’t feed myself any BS
“It’s not like he’s going to school on the moon,” I muttered.
“I heard that Donya Elisabeth Stewart,” Sam snapped.
“Whoa,” Emmy said with amusement. “Full name.”
“Ya’ll think this is funny and it’s not,” Sam whined.
Emmet put his pizza down and rested his chin on his folded hands and listened as Sam continued to rant. I felt bad for him. It was his last summer before he was forced to behave somewhat like an adult, and Harvard was no joke. There wouldn’t be too much time for fooling around. Part of me felt he wasn’t going because I would be there, but I told myself how conceited that sounded and shut the thought down.
I cleared my throat and cut Sam off.
“He should stay,” I said. I felt Emmet’s eyes fall on me. “If you force him to go, he’ll be miserable the entire time. Do you really want his last summer as a kid to be miserable?”
Sam sputtered for a moment. “But what about Lucy’s wedding?”
“I won’t miss the wedding,” Emmet promised.
“You’re not going to get your way on this one,” Fred told his wife gently. “Let it go.”
“Can I stay home, too?” Emmy asked with hope.
“No,” Sam, Fred, and Emmet said at the same time.
Sam stopped bugging, but she frowned her way through dinner and barely spoke, which appeased all.
After dinner, I left to go spend the rest of my time with my mom. I made it around the block before I felt the familiar tug and Emmet pulled to the curb. I stopped walking and hesitated before approaching the car. We had barely spoken more than a handful of words since that night on the boardwalk. He had written me a simple apologetic note that said “I’m sorry.” I didn’t acknowledge it and he didn’t push.
I stopped a foot away from the car.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“Speaking up for me at dinner.”
I gave a half shrug. “I would have done the same for anyone. No big deal.”
He flinched a little. He thought I had done it because I cared. I did, but he didn’t need to know that.
“You haven’t forgiven me,” he said, frowning.
I shrugged again. “I forgive you. You won’t be the last guy to call me a slut.”
His eyes darkened. “I didn’t call you a slut, Donya.”
“You implied it. Same difference.”
“I would never call you that.”
“Maybe not directly, but accusing me of getting felt up by Andrew isn’t any better.”
“I was jealous,” he argued softly.
“Well, I get jealous, too,” I snapped. “But you don’t see me making remarks about Stella.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve made a couple of references to couches.”
I bit my lip and crossed my arms defensively. Emmet sighed.
“I didn’t come here to fight with you. I just wanted to thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said curtly.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
He gave me a final look of regret and drove off.
*~*~*
My tether was stretched to the point of pain. I thought it would get better with each passing day, but it didn’t. It got worse. I tried to keep myself busy while I was in Louisiana, even going as far as spending a day cooking and baking with Sam and arguing with her, but the ache was still there. I wondered if he ached, too? Or if he was just having so much fun with his friends and various girls that he didn’t notice?
“What’s on your mind, Kiddo?” Fred asked me one morning at our fishing spot.
I looked over at him. “Who said there’s anything on my mind?”
“A father knows these things,” he grinned. His words warmed me and I smiled. “Now tell me what’s going on in that teenage head of yours.’
I couldn’t tell him the truth, that I was in way over my head – the in part was being in love – with his youngest son who is supposed to be like a brother to me.
That was the first time I really admitted it to myself. I was pretty sure I was in love with Emmet. I couldn’t feed myself any BS
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