24
Waiting for Her
‘EM, I NEED YOU TO GET UP.’
Her eyes opened, barely. She squinted up at me without a word, without showing any inclination to get up.
‘I’m serious,’ I said a little more firmly. ‘You need to get out of bed and come with me.’ She just lay there, staring at me like she didn’t understand a word I said. ‘Either get out of bed, or I’m carrying you.’
Her mouth dropped open. At least I knew she’d heard me.
‘Why?’ she croaked hoarsely.
‘Because I’m going to help you,’ I explained. ‘But I can’t do that until you get out of bed.’
Her eyes moved in contemplation. It was the most reaction we’d gotten out of her in days, other than crying.
‘You’re not going to leave me alone until I get out of bed, are you?’
‘Nope,’ I answered, trying not to smile, even though it was getting harder. ‘Trust me, Emma.’
She thought for a moment, took a deep breath and pushed the blankets back. This time I couldn’t conceal my satisfaction.
‘Don’t look all proud of yourself,’ she grumbled, sliding her legs over the edge of the bed. I let out a quick laugh at her feistiness. It was a good sign, or a better one anyway.
‘Do you want to shower or anything first?’ I asked. Her hair was all knotted up on one side, and there were pillow crease lines on the side of her face. She’d been wearing the same clothes for two days, so I figured she’d want to feel … clean.
‘Nope,’ she said stubbornly. ‘You want me to get up, this is how you get me.’
I released a smile. ‘Okay, then. Let’s go.’
I turned towards the door.
‘We’re leaving?’
‘Yeah. Are you sure you don’t want to wash up or brush your teeth?’ I suggested one more time.
She eyed me thoughtfully, trying to figure out what I was up to. I smiled wider and Emma’s eyes narrowed. ‘No, I’m fine.’
Her defiance made me laugh. She was never one to be told what to do, and that was one of the reasons I –
I turned towards the door, cutting that thought off before it had a chance to finish. It wasn’t why I was here, and I had to keep reminding myself that – though it wasn’t as easy to believe now.
Emma shuffled behind me. Her movements were stiff, probably from being twisted up in a ball for so long. We passed Sara in the living room, reading a magazine on the couch. She was trying so hard to appear casual, but I knew better. She was a wreck on the inside.
‘Have fun,’ she chimed with a smile.
Emma gave her a sideways glance. ‘Of course you’re in on this.’
I looked to Sara with a grin. The worry surfaced in her eyes for that second. She obviously wasn’t as confident as I was that this was going to work.
The light felt too bright when I walked out the front door, even though it was dusk. My entire body felt like it had been frozen and it was now slowly thawing. My head was still stuffed with cotton, and I felt so tired I could’ve laid down on the sidewalk and fallen asleep.
I rolled my eyes at the grin Evan couldn’t seem to lose, despite every glare I’d shot at him. I didn’t know why I was agreeing to this. But then again, I did. Because he’d asked me to trust him. And I’d never said no before.
I plopped down on the front seat of the convertible, and Evan shut the door after me. We drove the two minutes to the other house in silence. With Evan in the lead, glancing over his shoulder every so often, I dragged myself through the garage and up the stairs.
We continued to the second floor of the house and stood outside a closed door.
‘Close your eyes,’ he requested with a permanent grin.
My brows pulled together. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘Close your eyes.’
I sighed and closed my eyes. A moment later I could feel fabric being wrapped around them.
‘Really?’ I shot at him in disbelief. Evan laughed. I would’ve rolled my eyes again if they were open.
‘Trust me,’ he said again. I stilled with those words. His words. My heart pounded faster just hearing them.
Evan took hold of my hand. His hand was warm and strong, wrapping mine within it. He gave it a small squeeze before saying, ‘Okay, take a few steps forward.’
I allowed him to guide me, unable to control the fit going on inside my chest.
We passed through the doorway and I led her to the centre of the room before letting go of her hand to shut the door. I waited a moment before I murmured quietly over her shoulder, ‘Breathe, Emma. Take a deep breath.’
She paused a moment, not understanding. Then I watched as she inhaled through her nose, filling her lungs while expanding her chest. She hesitated, as if she were surprised. Then she breathed in again, and the most stunning smile emerged on her face. It was the best reaction I could have hoped for.
Emma pulled the bandana down, and it fell around her neck. She took in the room around her and turned to me. For the first time, I swore I saw a hint of light in the soft brown of her eyes.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
I nodded, the lump in my throat making it challenging for me to speak as well. I swallowed and said, ‘Let it all out, Emma. Find your way back to us.’
Emma smiled brighter, causing me to do the same. ‘Okay,’ she said, and turned from me. I went back out the door, leaving her in the room.
I bit my lip as a tear slipped down my cheek. I inhaled, absorbing the calming scents once again. I had no idea how he’d done it, how he’d gotten the room to smell like it did, but it made my heart swell until I felt like it might burst.
Sitting on the stool, I studied the blank canvas, remembering his words. Let it all out, Emma. Collecting myself with a quick breath, I twirled the paintbrush thoughtfully in my hand. The rest of Evan’s words settled within me. Find your way back to us. And a warmth spread through my body. I knew exactly what I was going to paint. I picked up a tube of paint, squirting the green along the palette.
I glanced around and noticed the small cooler with bottles of water and the tray that held a sandwich, a granola bar, and an apple. On the desk were a clean clothes to change into. My chest fluttered – a sensation I hadn’t felt in … years. At the same time, my stomach rumbled, and I picked up the granola bar as I continued to squirt colours on the palette. All I wanted to do was lose myself in the strokes of my brush. Gain control over the chaos that was tearing me apart. And find myself in the one place I would forever feel safe.
‘I got Sara’s note,’ Cole said when I answered the door.
‘Yeah, come on in.’ I walked back up the three steps into the living-room area.
‘So … where is she?’ Cole asked, glancing around uncomfortably.
‘Painting,’ I told him. He pulled his head back in confusion. ‘You didn’t know she painted?’
‘I don’t think she has in … well, since she left,’ Sara explained. She was sitting on the love seat with her legs curled under her. She’d paused the movie we were watching when we heard the knock at the door. ‘Evan thought that it would help her deal with her grief. That she could express herself through a paintbrush. It used to work for her in high school.’
‘Oh,’ Cole responded with a nod. ‘You thought of this.’
‘I did,’ I replied carefully. ‘It was a long shot. But it got her out of bed.’
‘That’s good, I guess.’
I knew he was still trying to figure out what my motives were, despite our conversation on the first night. And I couldn’t get a true sense of what his feelings were for Emma. I did know he wasn’t dealing very well with what had been happening the past couple of days.
‘She’s upstairs, if you want to see her,’ Sara told him.
Cole glanced up the stairs, his hands shoved in his front pockets. ‘Have you been up there?’ Sara shook her head. ‘Then I’ll just wait too. Will you call me when she comes down?’
‘Sure,’ Sara answered.
‘Thanks.’ He turned and walked out the door.
Sara looked to me with her eyebrows raised, ‘Umm … awkward.’ I shrugged and plopped back down on the couch so we could continue watching the movie.
‘You can go to bed if you want,’ Sara said to me as I started to nod off on the couch. The screen was flashing baseball highlights. I hadn’t slept much in the past few days, and it was taking its toll. I was fighting every blink to keep my eyes open.
‘No, it’s okay,’ I said, shifting to try to appear more alert than I was.
‘Evan, you can go sleep in an actual bed,’ Sara continued. ‘You don’t have to hang out on the couch. It’s after two in the morning.’
I glanced up at the stairs. She was still up there … painting whatever it was that she was painting. We hadn’t heard from her since I’d shut the door, except the couple of times she’d come into the hall to use the bathroom. But neither of us had looked in on her, wanting to give her space to … heal.
‘You can go to bed too,’ I told Sara. ‘There’s more than one guest room.’ Her red-rimmed eyes made it apparent that she was just as tired.
She shrugged dismissively and turned her attention back to the book that was open on her lap. Neither one of us wanted to leave the couch. It was the best vantage point to hear the door open and close, and to be visible when she finally walked down those stairs.
I stepped back to admire the image I’d created and smiled proudly. Every stroke on the canvas pulsed with emotion. My eyes blurred, and my hands shook slightly from the lingering adrenaline that had possessed me, keeping me focused throughout the night.
But when I set down the brush, all of the energy drained from me. I was exhausted. I held up my paint-covered hands. I definitely needed to shower, especially since I hadn’t in almost three days. Suddenly I felt disgusting.
I scooped up the clothes from the desk and crept into the hall. I could hear the television and see the light that shone at the bottom of the stairs. Evan must’ve gotten up early, per usual. I would never understand how a person could enjoy mornings so much.
I jumped up at the sound of the door clicking shut. My feet hit the floor, and Sara jolted awake.
‘What?’ she blurted, pushing her hair out of her face as she sat up. ‘What is it?’
The sound of the shower filtered down the stairs.
‘She’s done,’ I announced, pushing the blanket off my lap and taking the stairs two at a time.
‘Evan, wait for me!’
We entered the office with the huge glass windows that overlooked the ocean. I thought it would be the perfect inspiration for her painting. But when I saw the canvas, it didn’t appear she’d needed the inspiration after all.
I looked over at Sara. ‘I like it,’ I declared, beaming at the image in front of me. The sun’s bright rays filtering through the leaves made me want to squint. With the heavy strokes of the bark, I could imagine dragging my fingertips along the rough texture.
‘Of course you do,’ Sara stated, shooting me a look out of the corner of her eye. ‘She painted the tree in your back yard with the swing you made for her.’
‘Yes she did,’ I gloated.
Sara released a short laugh.
I stood before the canvas, admiring what Emma had unleashed. She’d gone back to the one place that would always be waiting for her.