Falling (15 page)

“I told you, it isn't the country. It's the
suburbs
, which is a different thing entirely. I'm surrounded by people, and I got my first decorating job last week.” Of course, Emma knows her mother will refuse to acknowledge the word
suburb
, having spent her entire life attempting to erase her roots. She ignores Emma's mention of the word.

“Darling, that's wonderful!” she says. “Who is the job for?”

Emma smiles at her mother's question. What difference does it make who the job is for? It's not like her mother would know anyone in Westport. “It's for a woman my age who doesn't know how to decorate her house. I'm just doing two rooms, for now, but it's a start. She's thrilled.”

“I'm so pleased for you. But I also called because I do want to make sure you've booked your flight for Cousin George's engagement. Remember? I'm throwing the party here at home?”

Oh God. How had this so completely slipped her mind? “I'm so sorry, Mum, completely forgot. Give me the dates again and I'll see if I can work it out. It may be difficult, though,” she lies. “I have a few more clients I'm meeting with, so it really depends on the work situation.”

Her mother gives her the dates, as Emma's heart sinks, picturing a party at which she will know no one other than family members she hasn't seen in years. She realizes she will probably have nothing in common with any of them anymore, if indeed she ever did. And with that thought, she can't help thinking about how comfortable she has felt with Dominic and Jesse.

“Mummy?” She resorts to
Mummy
only when she wants something, but a thought has just occurred to her. “Would it be okay if I maybe brought someone with me?”

Her mother is instantly suspicious. “What sort of someone?”

“My landlord, actually. He's terribly nice, and he's never been to England, but I'm sure he'd love to go. I have no idea whether he would come. It probably wouldn't work, but if he could, would that be okay?”

“Your landlord?” Her mother is shocked. “Darling, why on earth would you offer to bring your landlord to a family party in England? I know you're trying to prove you're a good tenant, but isn't this a bit
too too
?”

“We're sort of seeing each other,” says Emma reluctantly, for she really doesn't want her mother knowing anything about her life.

“Emma!” booms her mother in surprise. “Why didn't you say that in the beginning? Now I understand! But, darling, I'm not sure that a family party is the best place for him to meet everyone. And you haven't been living there very long. Isn't it a bit early to be thinking about bringing him to England to meet your family? I don't know, Emma. I'm not sure this would be the right time.”

Emma says nothing. If Dominic can't go, she won't go, either. If anything, it makes the decision easier.

•   •   •

Later that day, on the way to Lisa's, Emma mentions to Dominic that her mother has phoned. She's thinking about going to England, she tells him. Has he ever been?

“I've never left the country,” he says. “I don't even have a passport.”

“How can you not have a passport?” Emma, who has had a passport as far back as she can remember, is aghast.

“Why would I need a passport when I've never left the United States? My driver's license is my ID.”

“But what if you suddenly decided to hop over to, I don't know, Mexico, or the Caribbean for the weekend?”

Dominic turns and looks at her, shaking his head with a laugh. “Do you know me? Do I look like someone who would decide to hop over to the Caribbean for the weekend? Rhode Island? Yes. New Jersey? Yes. I've even been to Maine for the weekend, which I won't be doing again in a hurry because it was so far away. But the Caribbean? Never.”

“I'm so sorry,” says Emma. When she was growing up on the relatively tiny island of the United Kingdom, everyone she had ever met had a passport. It was so cheap and easy to hop on a ferry or a plane and go on holiday. The English lived for their holidays. Who wouldn't have a passport over there?

Of course someone like Dominic has never left the United States. Why would he need to? she thinks. America is so vast, you could spend your life picking different spots to vacation every year and you'd still never get to see the whole country.

“I'm an idiot,” she says. “I'm sounding like a snob. It's just that in England almost everyone has passports. Maybe you should get one? Maybe”—she takes a breath, hardly believing she's saying this—“we could all go away somewhere for a vacation sometime?”

“You're right. I should definitely have a passport,” says Dominic. “Now that I have myself an English girlfriend. She's positively spiffing,” he continues in a really bad English accent as Emma groans.

“Please don't do that,” she says. “That's the most horrible English accent I've ever heard.”

“Toodles. Pip pip!” he says, as Emma shakes her head.

“No one in England ever says that,” she says. “Seriously. Please stop. It's very difficult for me to continue being attracted to a man who sounds worse than Dick Van Dyke in
Mary Poppins
.”

Dominic's face falls. “Really? I'm that bad?”

“Oh, Dominic,” she says with a sweet smile. “You are so very much worse.”

•   •   •

The shelves go up at Lisa's, and they are beautiful. More than beautiful; they are perfect. Dominic has done a great job.

Emma is slightly surprised, but relieved and delighted. She works right alongside him, priming, applying the first coat of paint. Tomorrow he will come back by himself to sand, and apply the second coat. Saturday will see the third coat, so Emma will be able to finish the room on Wednesday, by which time most, if not all, of the furniture she has ordered will have arrived.

“We make a good team,” says Dominic, looking over at where she is painting. “I like this. You and I.”

Emma smiles. She is liking it, too.

T
he weeks sail by, filled with ease, and fun, and a peace that Emma has never known before. One Saturday afternoon, after Dominic and Emma have spent the morning finally creating the garden Emma has long dreamed about, Dominic announces that AJ and Deb are coming for dinner that night. Does Emma have anyone she wants to ask? It might be fun to turn it into a small party.

She will invite Sophie and Rob, not knowing anyone else to ask. She worries, for a brief moment, that her friends might not have anything in common with Dominic's, but she pushes the thought away. This week has been so busy, finishing the decorating for Lisa, that she hasn't even had a chance to speak to Sophie. It will be nice for them to meet Dominic properly.

He is insisting on grilling his usual burgers, but Emma persuades
him to try something a little different. “Not steak,” she groans, after his first suggestion. “How about tuna?”

Dominic grimaces. “Do we have to have fish?”

“Who doesn't like fish? Okay, I can see that you don't particularly like fish, but I do. Most people do. I'll do a simple pasta with pesto to have along with it. I promise that everyone will love it. Maybe I'll do a shrimp ceviche to serve beforehand . . .”

“Why are you getting so fancy?” He peers at her. “Are your friends fancy?”

Emma laughs. “No, my friends are not fancy, but I want to do something nice. Let's do burgers with sourdough rolls, tuna and pesto, ceviche, and a tomato, mozzarella, and prosciutto salad. How's that? Unfancy enough for you?”

“I like the pro-zhiutt,” says Dominic.

Emma stares at him. “Pros
ciutt
o?” she says.

“That's not how you pronounce it,” says Dominic earnestly. “In Italy, they never pronounce the
O
. It's pronounced
proZHOOT
,
mohzaRELL
,
riCOTT
.”

“I'm sure that's not right,” says Emma, who has been to Italy many times and has never heard anyone there ask her if she wanted some
proZHOOT
or
mohzaRELL
. “Maybe it's an American thing?” she says, finally, to appease him.

“Nah,” says Dominic happily. “It's Italian. I can get the best
proZHOOT
ever. Want me to do the shopping? I can pick it up now if you want.”

“That would be great,” says Emma, giving up on pronunciation. “Do we have enough to drink? Shall I stop at the liquor store?”

“Sounds good to me. Can you drop Jesse off at the School of Rock for his guitar lesson?”

“Sure,” she says, but a slight feeling of dread settles on her. Despite the admittedly nice moments they've shared, she and Jesse have not yet quite found their groove again. At first, after that awful morning, she'd thought he'd settled down. But in the past week or so, he has not been the sweet little boy he was before he realized that she and his father were more than just friends. Emma has noticed him becoming increasingly suspicious, and cool. She tries to convince herself that with time she can win him over for good, but she can't help feeling a little apprehensive. He loved her before, of course he will love her again, right? Still, the prospect of spending time with him on her own makes her nervous. What if he doesn't talk to her?

In the car on the way to his guitar lesson, her fears are realized. Jesse is silent, speaking only when necessary, and then in monosyllables.

“What songs are you learning at School of Rock?” Emma turns her head to glance at him in the backseat, in a bid to engage him.

Jesse shrugs. “Don't know.”

“Is it rock? Stuff I would know?”

“No.” He refuses to look at her. After a while she gives up, reaching forward to turn on the radio, softly singing along until they reach their destination. As soon as they do, Jesse jumps out of the car without saying good-bye, leaving Emma both upset and angry.

How is a six-year-old allowed to behave like this?
she wonders. Then she berates herself for not following him and forcing him to say good-bye. But she wouldn't have done that, she thinks. Couldn't have done that, lest it bring on another meltdown.

It's not good for a small child to have this much power,
she thinks, aware that her mood has been brought down, that she is now obsessing about making Jesse happy.

She wishes she knew how.

•   •   •

That evening, setting up for the dinner she and Dominic have planned, Emma tries to settle the butterflies in her stomach. Will her friends like him? Will he like them? Why does she care so much?

“You look amazing,” Sophie whispers in her ear as they hug on the doorstep, having merely texted for days. “Oh my God, are you totally in love?”

“Stop,” says Emma, kissing Rob hello, then squealing in delight as she sees Sophie's mother, Teddy, emerging from the car with Jackson.

“Teddy, I haven't seen you in ages!”

“Is it okay to bring her?” says Sophie. “I knew we should have asked, but I totally forgot to text you and I know you love my mom.”

“I'm thrilled,” says Emma, giving Teddy a big hug. “How are you?”

“All the better for seeing you,” says Teddy, as Jackson pulls on her long white braid. “Ouch. Jackson, sweetie. Be gentle with your old grandma.”

“You're hardly old,” says Emma. “You're the youngest fifty-something I know.”

Teddy breaks into a big grin and leans forward to plant a kiss on Emma's cheek. “Fifty-something! I knew there was a reason I loved you.”

“Come and meet the others,” says Emma. “Let me get you all drinks.”

“This looks fantastic.” Sophie bypasses Emma's ceviche to lift the aluminum foil off a catering pan revealing a huge chicken parm, smothered in tomato sauce and dripping with cheese.

“Oh my God,” swoons Sophie, picking a piece of cheese off the side. “Did you make this? This tastes incredible.”

“I did not,” says Emma. “I made all the other stuff, which Dominic said was far too healthy for his friends, so he insisted on making chicken parm. Please tell me you'll eat my ceviche?”

“He made this? All by himself?”

“He's an amazing chef, especially when it comes to Italian food, and all of it is insanely fattening, which means I'm going to weigh three hundred pounds by the end of the summer.” She casts a look at the pan. “It may be worth it, though.”

“I'll say it is.” Sophie is almost drooling. “He cooks, too? Is he the perfect man?”

Teddy joins them, putting Jackson down and peering out the kitchen window. “Where is this perfect man of yours? Is he the rather macho bearded one by the grill?”

“No, that's his friend AJ.”

“Of course it is. He's the handsome one by the table, then.”

“Yes. That's Dominic. I'm not sure he's
my man
yet, though. Not really.” Emma attempts a laugh.

Sophie shoots her a skeptical look. “You're completely starry-eyed and you've been sleeping at his house every night. I'd say that pretty much makes it official.”

“Sophie!” Emma blushes. “I just—” She lowers her voice. “His son doesn't seem completely happy about us being together, so I'm trying to be discreet about it. I don't want to rock the boat. I figure if we take it slowly, he'll have time to get used to it.”

“I thought Jesse adored you?”

“Well, he's gone back and forth. We got along great at first, but not anymore. Now he sometimes looks at me funny. I'm afraid he thinks I'm the devil sent to steal his father away from him. I'm trying to prove that I have no intention of getting between the two of them.”

“It'll be fine,” Sophie says, shrugging off Emma's concern. “You're
a wonderful person, and Jesse will realize you're a great addition to his family. He's incredibly lucky to have you. He should know that.”

“He's six years old. I'm not sure he's capable of recognizing any of that. But he did like me before, so hopefully he'll get over this and we'll go back to being friends.”

“You're the loveliest woman in the world. He'll get over it.” Sophie gives her a hug, and asks, “Can I bring anything outside?”

“Grab the chips. Come and meet AJ and Deb. And, of course, Jesse.”

When they get outside, they find that Jesse is busy with Dylan, a friend who has come over for a playdate. They are grabbing handfuls of popcorn from the table before cramming them in their mouths as they race through the garden.

Emma watches, wanting to tell them to slow down, not to fill up on popcorn, to leave room for the chicken parm and for the hot dogs Dominic is grilling. But she says nothing, reminding herself she is not Jesse's mother. She's noticed more and more that he sees her efforts to guide him as telling him off, and Jesse clearly doesn't believe she has the right to do that. Emma knows she doesn't have the right to do that, either.

Perhaps, in time, she will be able to exert more influence. She can see that Dominic is an amazing father, brimming with love, attention, and appreciation for his child. But he doesn't set boundaries the way she would, rarely setting Jesse straight if he is rude or behaving badly, which is not how Emma would parent.

Even though Emma is not a parent.

Teddy sits next to her on the Adirondack chair, toasting her with a frozen margarita in a plastic cup. They sit in companionable silence for a while, watching Dominic, AJ, and Rob chatting by the grill,
and Sophie and Deb animatedly discussing their shared obsession with Etsy.

“This is nice,” says Teddy, after a while. “He is nice.” She nods her head in Dominic's direction. “This is good for you. He's good for you.”

Emma finds herself smiling as she nods. “Things are going well. It's early days but it feels good.”

“Early days are irrelevant,” Teddy says. “When it's right, it's right. Do you know, when I met my husband—Sophie's father—I came home that night and told my mother I had met the man I was going to marry. He went home and said the same thing to his father. We had barely spoken, just seen each other across the room and shared one dance before the night was over, but both of us knew. Dominic may not be who you would have chosen for yourself, but here you are. It's quite clear the two of you have found something special in each other.”

Emma looks at her curiously. “You can see that he isn't what I would have chosen for myself?”

“He's from a very different world than yours. Even I can see that. But he's a very good man. I see that, too. And he loves you.” She looks steadily at Emma. “It would seem you love him, too.”

Emma shakes her head. “I don't know that we're talking love yet. It's far too early.”

“It may be too early for either of you to admit it, but it's there. I am something of a witch, Emma, and I can tell you that this is the man for you. You're going to live happily ever after.” She smiles. “The son will come around.”

“That's the challenging part,” says Emma. “But I'm working on it.”

Teddy goes off to talk to the others, and Emma notices Jesse is still tearing around the garden with Dylan, approaching their table
for his third canned soda. Really, Emma's not surprised that he's acting like a crazy person, given that he's just consumed his weight in sugar. She watches him finish the drink and reach for another.

“Hey, Jesse, if you're thirsty, maybe you should have some water?”

Jesse barely pauses as he reaches for a fresh can from the galvanized bucket on the ground, and he doesn't even look at her as he swigs the beverage. He looks quite defiant, thinks Emma, who doesn't say another word.

“A Valium?” mutters Sophie, who has come up beside her and witnessed the whole exchange.

“You know what you need, Jesse?” Emma now calls out, loudly enough for Jesse to hear. “You need a trampoline.” Jesse stops in his tracks and stares at her, his eyes widening as his mouth opens.

“I do.” He starts nodding. “I do. I do need a trampoline.”

“I think it would be a great thing for you to get rid of some of this energy.”

“That and chucking the soda,” mutters Sophie under her breath, although Emma hears her loud and clear.

“I think we should buy you one,” says Emma. “A late birthday gift, seeing as I didn't know you when it actually was your birthday.”

“Really?” Jesse is now hopping up and down. “Did you ask Dad? Did Dad say yes?”

Emma looks over at Dominic, who heard her raised voice when she made the suggestion and has been watching the exchange attentively ever since. “What do you think? Can I buy Jesse a trampoline?”

“I think that would be a great idea,” Dominic says with a smile. “Jesse? What do you say?”

“Thank you!” shouts Jesse, running over and flinging his arms around Emma as her eyes, completely unexpectedly, fill with tears. Relieved, even thrilled, she hugs him back. It's not precisely how she
would have chosen to pave the way back into his heart, even temporarily. But for now, it will do.

•   •   •

As the hours tick by, Emma realizes it is obvious to all that she and Dominic are a couple. Yet she also can't help but notice that Dominic has been careful not to kiss her or touch her all evening.

Perhaps he doesn't want his friends to know, she thinks, although Deb had sidled up to her earlier in the evening and whispered how thrilled she and AJ were that Emma and Dominic seemed to have such great chemistry. It is more likely, she knows, that he is being reserved for Jesse's sake. While at first he seemed oblivious to Jesse's resentment of her, they have discussed it enough since that first morning that Dominic is more sensitive to it now. Still, Emma tries not to let her imagination run riot with fantasies that his standoffishness is about something else.

Finally, toward the end of the evening, Dominic slips his arms around her waist from behind as she is talking to Sophie and Deb, and kisses her neck. She savors the feeling of his arms around her, even as she suspects this display is fueled by alcohol.