I crack another smile.
Me: I thought women liked mystery
Ember: LOL. Don’t lump me into a category
Me: You defy all categories
No response. Maybe that was pushing it. My finger hovers over the keypad until a message pings.
Ember: I have to work at the gallery today
Me: Oh
Since I didn’t plan for that, I take a second to plot my next move when she responds.
Ember: But I’m done at 1:00
Me: Okay. Can you meet me somewhere?
Ember: Somewhere as in??
Me: Times Square Toys R Us
Ember: Um… Okay
Me: See you there then?
Ember: I can get there by 2:30. Want to run home and change
Me: Okay. I’ll meet you right out front
Ember: K
Unable to tone down my grin, I drop the phone on the bed and lean back, lacing my hands behind my head. “Yo, Chris.”
He shows up in my doorway, wet from a shower. “Yeah?”
“You sure you don’t want to come with us? Ember is gonna be there and you can officially meet her.”
“I knew you had s-something up your sleeve. And no,” he rubs the towel back and forth over his hair, “I don’t want to be in the middle of Toys ‘R’ Us with a million screaming kids. But good luck with that.”
“Good point. Okay.” He disappears down the hall and I heave my tired legs over the edge of the bed. “Oh, hey Chris,” I yell out. “Does Guiseppe work on Fridays?”
“I think so. Why?” He calls from his room.
“I want to run down there and get my hair trimmed.” In two seconds he’s back, curiosity in his gaze. “Hey, my eyes are my best feature and I need to pull out the big guns.”
“You w-want her back.” He smirks. A statement not a question, but I answer it anyway.
“Fuck, yes.”
He makes a noise in his throat as if he knew it all along. “You still love her.”
My heart trips over itself thinking about how much. “Never stopped.”
CHRIS WAS RIGHT. Times Square is fucking insane this time of day—music blaring, neon signs flickering, and little kids… everywhere. As we stand in front of Toys ‘R’ Us waiting for Ember, I watch wide-eyed Riley seek out his next target. I might as well have the word ‘sucker’ painted across my forehead as I pay for the fifth picture of him with someone else dressed up like a Disney character. This time Woody from Toy Story.
“This is the last one, little guy,” I tell him, and he nods, eyes gleaming with excitement as he stares at all the costumes. I miss that element of being a kid, where the lines of fantasy and reality are blurred.
“I can’t wait to show Chwissy evewyone I met today.” His face is alight with wonder and awe, making me happy I could do this for him. I’m also somewhat distracted, casually glancing at my watch every few minutes. Riley peers inside the store, getting restless as he swings my arm and spins on the sidewalk.
“She’s gonna be here soon,” I mumble, more for my own benefit than his. When he knocks on the glass, I know a distraction is in order. “Okay, let’s do this buddy. Make a fist.” He doesn’t hesitate because this is our thing. He curls his tiny fingers into a ball and I do the same, then he presses his fist against mine. “Wonder twin powers activate, form of… operation get Ember back,” I whisper, and his cheeks puff up as he makes a fish face.
“Opewation what?” he asks, at the same moment I glance up to see Ember walking toward us. Already, the corner of my lips kick up into a smile and I have to tell my heart to slow the fuck down. She looks amazing, wearing faded blue jeans that hug her hips and a tight black t-shirt that says Art is my Life. Familiar worn red Chucks sit on her feet, her hair gathered in a ponytail highlighting the sweet curve of her neck. Even Riley seems to notice when she finally reaches us, squinting up at me like a one-eyed pirate, his toothy smile glowing. He cups a hand sideways over his mouth. “She’s pwetty.”
My eyes do a slow climb and fasten to hers, the sun making them appear greener in the light. “She is.” We stare at each other and I fall into this peaceful void, forgetting we’re in the middle of Times Square. She finally breaks our connection, something off in her smile.
“Hi.” Her glance flickers between me and Riley, as if trying to figure out a puzzle. “You have a… son?” Shock renders me quiet, prompting her mouth to open again. “He’s… beautiful.”
“Ember,” I start, wanting to set her straight immediately. “This is—”
Riley doesn’t let me finish. He points a finger up at me, his smile crooked. Giggling, he tugs on my jeans. “This is Unca Vance.”