17
Not the Same
THE SUN WAS BLINDING ME WHEN I WOKE ON the wicker chaise. I needed a minute to figure out where I was, but as soon as I did, I jumped up. Emma! I pushed the door open and walked quickly to the other side of the patio, past the pool and through the wooden gate.
I stopped. She was curled in the grass under the oak tree. Her skin aglow in the golden light filtering through the trees. Her skirt spread around her with her legs tucked under it, and her hands were folded under her cheek. She took my breath away. I tensed, not wanting to start looking at her the way I once had. She wasn’t the same girl. And I wasn’t the same either.
I walked over to her. I couldn’t leave her out here on the damp grass. I crouched down and gently lifted her into my arms.
She groaned slightly, but didn’t wake as I took her back to the guest room and placed her on the bed. I didn’t linger to watch her sleep. I knew I had to prepare myself for her reaction when she finally awoke – sober and … unpredictable.
I was back in the bed. My body ached with the slightest movement. I was convinced I’d slept on rocks. I groaned and ran a hand over my face.
My phone buzzed. I searched blindly for it, reaching over the edge of the bed into the tote below.
‘Hello?’ I grumbled.
‘How are you feeling?’ Cole asked from the other end.
‘Shoot me now,’ I croaked, flopping my arm over my eyes. ‘Isn’t it super early for you?’
‘I knew you’d be heading to the church soon,’ he explained. ‘I wanted to check on you. Do you remember talking to me yesterday?’
I couldn’t think. Nothing penetrated through the shards of pain splintering through my head. ‘Did I say anything stupid?’
Cole laughed lightly. ‘I’ll pick you and Sara up at the Santa Barbara airport tomorrow. The girls packed your things for you and they’ll meet us there tomorrow night. Call me later if you can.’
‘Okay,’ I responded in a rasp, not really following along. ‘Tomorrow.’
I dropped the phone in my tote, afraid to move from my sprawled position on the bed. Then a rush of saliva filled my mouth, and my stomach turned. I fought to get on my feet and stumbled to the bathroom in time to heave into the toilet, collapsing onto my shaking knees.
I rested my head against the cool porcelain, keeping my eyes closed to prevent the dim light from stabbing through my pupils and into my shrieking brain.
‘Emma?’ Sara called to me from the other room. ‘Emma?’ I heard the bathroom door creak open. ‘Oh God, Emma.’ I heard her gasp, but I couldn’t raise my head to look at her. ‘We have to get you ready.’
‘Just let me lie here and die,’ I pleaded. Another swirl of nausea rushed through me with a chilling sweat, and I leaned my head over as my stomach convulsed.
Sara was beside me, running her cool hand along my damp forehead.
The guest-room door was slightly ajar. ‘Sara?’ I knocked lightly, hearing Sara’s voice in the distance. ‘The car’s here to take you to the church.’
‘We’re in here,’ Sara called to me. I continued into the room cautiously, not certain what I was about to walk in on.
‘Shit.’ The word escaped unfiltered when I saw Sara cross-legged on the bathroom floor with a ghostly pale Emma lying on her lap. ‘Can she get up?’
‘Shh,’ Emma pleaded, wincing. ‘Not so loud.’
I exhaled and said quietly, ‘Sara, what do you want to do? You’re supposed to be at the church in forty minutes.’
‘I know,’ Sara said with a pained face. ‘Umm … let me get her in the shower. Can you call my mother and tell her we need a little more time?’
‘Sure,’ I replied, taking in the scene one more time before walking out of the room. I shut the door, gripping the handle tightly.
‘Come on, Emma. Let’s try to get up,’ Sara coaxed gently, moving slowly to her knees. I forced my body to follow her, my hands shaking as I grabbed the edge of the bathtub.
Sara helped slip off my dress and removed the bandage from my leg as I settled into the bathtub, too weak to provide any assistance.
‘My head hurts so bad.’
‘When was the last time you ate anything?’ Sara questioned, easing my bra from my shoulders.
I shrugged, because I honestly didn’t recall eating a single thing since I’d boarded the plane in California.
The warm water startled me as Sara ran the shower head over my body.
‘Here.’ She handed me a bar of soap. I flipped it in my hands before blindly pushing the lather over my skin.
‘I called your mother,’ Evan hollered from the other room. ‘She said to call her when you’re on your way. I’ll see you at the church.’
‘Evan,’ Sara called to him, abandoning me in the tub with the shower head dangling, spraying my legs.
‘I realize you have no reason to do this, but I need your help,’ Sara said in a rush, sadness dulling her usually bright eyes.
‘What do you need?’ I asked, controlling my tone.
‘We need to get her into the church, and I’m not convinced she can do it on her own, or that I can by myself. Will you stay? Will you help me?’
I nodded, unable to form words. My jaw tightened, realizing Emma was in a far worse condition than I could have imagined. I finally said, ‘I’ll be in the hall. Let me know when you need me.’
‘Do you think you could find something for her headache, and maybe something to eat? She hasn’t eaten in a couple of days.’ Sara’s voice sounded so fragile. I nodded again and left the room.
As I shut the door, I was blindsided by the anger that had been building since we’d found her on the closet floor. I wasn’t even sure who I was angry with, but I couldn’t deny that from the moment I saw her, everything had felt wrong.
I went down the stairs into the kitchen, to find Jared helping my mother into her jacket. I stopped short and tried to ease my clenched fists open.
‘Analise, what are you doing here?’ I asked, eyeing the petite girl standing in the doorway.
She looked up at me with big, sad eyes. ‘I came here for you.’ Her eyes flipped towards my mother, not wanting to have this discussion in front of her.
‘Is everything okay upstairs?’ My mother’s voice was calm, but her brow quirked, letting me know she was very aware of the predicament I was in.
‘Yes,’ I answered carefully. ‘It’s under control.’
‘Well, Jared and I need to make a stop on our way to the church. We’ll see you there?’ She leaned towards me so I could bend down to receive a kiss on the cheek.
‘I won’t be long,’ I told her, glancing again in Analise’s direction, trying to maintain my composure.
Jared kept his eyes to the ground as he and my mother left the house. I could only imagine the thoughts passing through his head.
I turned to Analise. ‘I’m still not sure why you’re here – today, especially.’
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t at the wake last night,’ she said softly, taking a step towards me. She raised her hand as if to touch me, but lowered it again when she noticed my shoulders pull back. ‘I didn’t expect you to go.’
‘Really? I never even considered not going.’
She lowered her eyes, the realization of what that statement meant not sitting well. ‘I thought … I thought you didn’t want anything to do with her?’
I didn’t say anything. That had been the truth, once. And Analise knew that better than anyone. It was hurt and anger wrapped in confusion that had me repeatedly saying that I was over Emma. That I didn’t care if I ever saw her again. But …
Right around the time my mother started letting me travel again, allowing me to be within hours of Emma without her knowing it – those thoughts started to change.
‘Analise, really, what do you want?’ She lifted her head in surprise at my tone. ‘We haven’t even spoken since last summer. I don’t understand why you’re here other than the fact that you know Emma’s in Weslyn.’
Analise’s eyes glistened as her lower lip jutted out slightly. ‘I didn’t want you to get hurt again. I was worried about you, and thought … I thought you might need a friend. Because I still care about you, Evan. And I was hoping to be that friend for you, like I used to be.’
I suddenly felt guilty for my impatient tone. I believed she did have my well-being in mind, but that didn’t mean I wanted her here. ‘I don’t think we can be friends again, Analise. Not after what happened. I’m sorry.’
She nodded, trying to hold back tears. ‘She’s going to destroy you, Evan.’ She turned from me and fled out the kitchen door.
Evan appeared in the doorway with a coconut water in one hand, and a bottle of aspirin and a muffin in the other. He paused when he saw me sitting on the bed while Sara zipped up the boots that hid my skinned leg. I was afraid they would hurt the raw skin, but the compression actually made it feel better.
I watched him as he placed the items on the bedside table. He didn’t look at me. If my face was any reflection of how I felt, then I must’ve looked worse than death.
‘Ready?’ he asked Sara.
Sara stood up to inspect me, like I was an inanimate object. ‘I think so. I don’t know what to do about your eyes, Em. They’re so puffy and bloodshot.’ She contemplated for a moment. Then she reached for her purse and removed an oversized pair of black sunglasses. ‘Here, keep these on.’
I slid them on my face and instantly felt relief from the pain-inciting glare. Sara handed me two pills, which I washed down with the coconut water. She held out the muffin, but I shook my head with a grimace, feeling my stomach roll just at the thought of eating it.
‘You’re going to have to eat eventually,’ Sara said sternly.
‘I can’t.’ I cringed, swallowing the nausea back down.
‘Can you stand?’ Sara asked.
I nodded, rising to my feet gingerly, holding on to her arm. Evan made a move in our direction when I faltered, but stopped when I regained my balance. He led the way out of the room as I held Sara’s arm.
As much as I tried not to, I couldn’t stop looking at him. A part of me was convinced he wasn’t real. He looked the same, except maybe a little more … built. But, essentially, perfectly the same. Composed and mature in a three-piece suit that fit his tall frame in a way that belonged on the cover of GQ. Maybe that’s what was going on. I was sitting on a plane, reading GQ, and this was all a dream.
Then the flash of pain brought me crashing back to reality. I was here, in Weslyn – to bury my mother. My knees buckled, and I fell to the floor. Sara screamed out, and Evan rushed back up the stairs, sliding his arm behind me to prop me up.
‘Are you okay?’ Sara asked her. Emma’s body felt limp and frail, leaning into my arm.
‘Yeah,’ she muttered, sitting up. ‘I just got dizzy all of a sudden. I’m sorry.’
‘Emma, you’re scaring me,’ Sara stated, offering her hand. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
Emma nodded slightly. She kept looking up at me, but with those large black glasses covering her eyes, I didn’t have any idea what she was thinking. I slid her arm through mine for added support as she grabbed Sara’s arm again, and we managed to get her down the stairs.
If the only thing she’d consumed in two days was vodka, then she was probably dehydrated, and her blood sugar was way off. How the hell were we going to make it through an entire church service without her passing out?
‘Emma, do you think you could at least drink that coconut water before we get to the church?’
It was the first thing he’d said to me since I’d arrived. I nodded slightly, trying to keep my heart beating normally as I felt his arm tucked under mine. I didn’t want to be this close to him, to touch him, to smell the sweet clean scent that rolled off him and made me even more lightheaded. But I also knew that my body was shutting down, rebelling against the abuse I’d subjected it to the last couple of days, and I wouldn’t be able to stand up if Evan let go of me.
The town car pulled up in front of the picturesque white church with its steeple and stained-glass windows. The funeral director approached the car when the door opened. Every muscle in my body refused to budge so I could enter the historic New England church to witness the sermon memorializing my mother. Panic held me captive in the confines of the car.
Sara climbed back in the car and grabbed my hand. ‘Are you going to be sick?’
I shook my head. Evan leaned into the car.
‘What is it?’ Sara asked gently.
‘She’s dead.’ My voice quivered. I gripped the sunglasses with my hands, pressing them into my eyes, trying to hold back the tears. ‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. She’s dead.’ The lump in my throat grew, and I thought I was going to choke on it.
I closed my eyes to keep the tears trapped. Sara squeezed my hand. I inhaled deeply through my nose and released the air through my mouth to force it away. The panic began to fade.
‘I’m okay,’ I told Sara, encouraging her to get back out of the car.
‘You can get through this,’ Sara assured me, taking my hand again when I emerged from the car. ‘I’ll be right next to you the entire time.’ I could only nod.
Evan offered me his arm again, and I slid mine through and held on tight.
It was the first time I’d seen her react to her mother’s death – and I couldn’t do anything about it. I just stood beside her and helped her up the stairs to where Mr and Mrs McKinley awaited us. Anna hugged Emma and whispered into her ear before leading the way into the church.
Emma’s grip tightened, and I could feel the panic rippling off her as we stepped over the threshold. Instinctively, I covered her hand with mine and concentrated on each step she took, wanting to be her strength as her own continued to slip away.
I slid in beside her in the first pew, with Sara on her other side. Sara’s parents sat at the end. Emma leaned away from me, releasing her hold of my arm and leaning into Sara, resting her head on Sara’s shoulder. I bowed my head in realization of who I was not to her in this moment of need.
The sermon began, and the murmuring stopped. I didn’t look over at her as the reverend offered a prayer and strangers said kind words about a woman who hadn’t earned them.
The reverend returned to the pulpit and said, ‘At this time, I’d like to invite Rachel’s daughter, Emma, up to say a few words.’
I froze and turned my head towards Sara, whose mouth hung agape as she stared at me in shock.
Emma slowly rose and made her way to the stairs that led to the pulpit.
‘Oh no,’ Sara murmured beside me.
‘Do you know what she’s going to say?’ I asked, unable to breathe properly.
‘I’m afraid to find out,’ Sara whispered, not taking her eyes off Emma.
My hands shook as I positioned myself behind the black-draped pulpit. I glanced in Sara’s direction and was suddenly rocked by the memory of her impassioned plea.
She hurt you, Emma, over and over again. You can let her go now. Don’t let her hurt you any more.
I redirected my attention out at the drawn faces awaiting my words. Words that I hadn’t prepared. So I decided that in this moment I would be … honest.
‘I don’t want to be here.’ My voice came out strained and barely audible. ‘None of us should be here.’ I cleared my throat and again looked towards Sara, whose large unblinking eyes followed my every movement as she gripped the pew in front of her.
She can’t keep hurting you and using you like an emotional punching bag. How many times do you have to forgive her before she destroys you?
‘I wouldn’t be able to begin to list the ways my mother has shaped me. I am the person I am because of her, and I awaken each day reminded of how she has contributed to my existence. I blame her –’ I paused, clearing my throat again as I gnashed my teeth together – ‘early departure on an unforgiving fate. Tragedy was too familiar to us both. It claimed my father many years ago. She lived so much of her life in pain. A pain that I witnessed helplessly for years. In the end she couldn’t live with it, and didn’t know how to let it go. Maybe now she will find the peace she spent so much of my life searching for, now that she is finally with him.’
This is about you. It’s always been about you – what you want, how you feel, who you want to be with. Why do you keep obsessing over a man who never loved you?
I pried my hands open from their frozen grasp of the pulpit. My entire body shook as I walked down the steps towards the aisle. The McKinleys rose to allow me access to the pew, but I lowered my head and kept walking.
‘Where’s she going?’ Sara whispered in a panic.
‘I don’t know,’ I responded, looking after her along with everyone else in the church as she headed towards the large double doors at end of the aisle, and pushed them open. They sealed shut behind her.
‘Go down the side aisle,’ I instructed Sara. There was a stir in the pews as the mourners whispered in speculation.
I followed Sara down the dark carpet towards the back of the church as the reverend’s authoritative tone redirected the attention back to the pulpit, where he began reciting scripture.
We pushed through the heavy wooden doors, out to the stone steps. The sun seemed impossibly bright after the gloominess of the church. I shielded my eyes to look for Emma.
The town car was gone.