Love and Chaos
Copyright
© 2013 Elizabeth Powers
All
rights reserved.
Cover
design: Rinn Siegrist
Emma
leaned back into her overstuffed couch cushions, scratching her dog’s ears and
glaring at her sister. Her gorgeous, wild, free-spirited, irresponsible, and
extremely irritating sister who at this moment was glaring right back at her
with equal exasperation.
“You
owe me,” Jen stated, pointing a perfectly manicured finger in her direction.
Emma
sighed. It was true. As one of his last acts before quitting his job and
heading to Bali to ‘find himself’, Emma's beloved but completely useless travel
agent had booked a flight for her into the Rochester airport, just before
Thanksgiving. The only problem was that he flew her into Rochester, New York
instead of Rochester, Minnesota - and there were no available flights out until
after the holidays. So it was either miss Gran Jameson’s homemade stuffing and
pumpkin pie, or it was a 15-hour road trip in Thanksgiving traffic, if she
could even find a car to rent. Emma got apoplexy just thinking about it, but
her sister had been in Michigan at the time, and had cheerfully volunteered to
head east and pick her up. The drive was long and the traffic was horrendous,
but they made it home just in time to see their Dad attacking the turkey with
his electric carving knife, and their grandmother hiding the box of Stove Top
in the garbage can.
Gran
had looked guilty, but rallied quickly, balancing her martini glass as she
quickly closed the lid of the plastic container.
“I
was too busy to make the real stuff this year,” she said in her defense. “They
added an extra bingo night at the Moose Lodge. And you can't tell the
difference anyway,” she muttered under her breath.
Emma
leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Hello dear," Gran added. “Glad you could
make it. Cutting it a little close this year, aren’t you?”
Rolling
her eyes, Emma sighed. “Don’t change the subject. Please tell me you made real
pumpkin pie. It’s the only reason that I didn’t just hunker down in a New York
hotel with a well-stocked mini-bar until after Thanksgiving.”
Her
grandmother looked furtively toward the freezer, taking another swig of her
martini.
Emma
gasped. “No. You didn’t! Frozen pie?”
“It’s
Mrs. Smith’s,” the old woman stated defensively. “It's the best. I even bought
full-fat Cool Whip to go on top.”
So
while Emma’s dog vacuumed the floor, eating all of the turkey morsels that were
dropping from where Emma’s father was slicing the bird, and while the Stove Top
simmered on the burner, Emma had realized that, for the sake of a frozen pie
and boxed stuffing, she now owed her sister big. She was such a fool.
And
now her sister was collecting. But this wasn’t a ‘drive me to Minnesota’ kind
of a collection. It wasn’t even a ‘loan me a thousand bucks’ kind of a thing.
This was getting in the middle of a personal interaction - the kind of thing
that Emma would normally fake a terminal illness to avoid.
Still,
Emma owed Jen. And she knew it. Sighing, she pulled the couch pillow to her lap
and leaned back. Chaos, her 2-year old lab mix, sniffed her hand suspiciously,
hoping for food, but then settled onto his back for a belly rub. Emma obliged.
“OK.
I know I owe you. I just think this is a really lame-brained way to collect.”
“But
you’ll do it?” Jen asked, leaning forward with a combination of hope and
suspicion in her expression.
Emma
rolled her eyes. Her sister, her gorgeous, wild, free-spirited, irresponsible,
and extremely irritating sister, also had an impulsive streak. And in this
case, the impulsive streak had led to her ‘engagement’ to a very rich, very
arrogant, and probably very socially maladapted man. Jen had met the man at a
charity event, he had pitched her a story about needing a fake wife, and viola!
She was getting married. Only now, she was clearly having second thoughts.
Emma, always the sensible one, appreciated those thoughts, encouraged them
even, but did not want to get in the middle of this arrangement. Still, there
was the 15+ hour road trip to consider. In Thanksgiving traffic. So...
“Yeah.
I’ll do it. But tell me again why you can’t just tell him yourself. And don’t
give me any crap about being scared of the man. If that were the case, you
wouldn’t have agreed to something so crazy to begin with.”
Jen
gave her a half smile. “Look. He’s going to be mad. Not violently mad, but mad.
And I just don’t want to be there to witness it.”
Emma
looked over at her, sensing that something was off, but not able to put her
finger on it. “Why not?” she asked shrewdly, tossing the pillow aside and
leaning forward, temporarily abandoning Chaos, who rolled over and looked up at
her questioningly. Sensing Emma's distraction, he skulked off to the kitchen to
vacuum up any crumbs that might have magically dropped to the floor since his
last investigation ten minutes earlier.
“Because.
I’m happy. I want to just go be happy,” Jen proclaimed, a big happy stupid grin
on her face. Emma rolled her eyes again.
“And,
like I said, you owe me,” Jen said again, the goofy smile gone, and an intent
look on her face. Again, Emma got the sense that there was something Jen wasn’t
telling her. But really, what could go wrong? She’d deliver the message, pass
on her sympathies, and quickly leave. This wasn’t an emotional thing, Emma
reminded herself. It was a business deal. So how hard could this be? She
sighed.
“Look,
I’ll do this for you. But more because I feel sorry for this guy than for any
other reason,” she added under her breath.
Jen
looked up at her, alarmed. “Do not feel sorry for him, Emma. He will take
advantage of your weakness and pounce. Why do you think I’m running the other
way?” she asked.
Emma
snorted. “Because you met a guy in a bar and decided you liked him better.
Enough to back out on a monumentally crazy deal you made. I’m actually glad
you’re not going through with this, Jen, but wow. What a way to renege on a
commitment. How much of a financial investment are we talking about here?
Caterers, plane tickets, what?”
Jen
wouldn’t meet her eyes. Suddenly intensely interested in the coaster on Emma’s
side table, she mumbled, “He can afford it.”
“Pardon?”
Emma asked, only having heard mutterings that sounded like Charlie Brown’s
teacher.
“I
said that he can afford it. Em, he’s richer than Croesus! This is like pocket
change to him.”
“But
it’s the principle of the thing.”
Jen
shook her head. “I can’t afford to have those principles, Emma. Look. He’ll be
fine. His whole family will be relieved beyond measure. They all hated me. His
horrid mother will probably bequeath him even more money, now that his
gold-digging girlfriend is out of the picture. So stop feeling sorry for him.
Just tell him that I backed out, and grab my things. That’s all you need to
do,” she added, still looking everywhere but at Emma.
“And
if he refuses to even let me into his house?” she asked softly.
Jen
looked up then. “He’ll let you in,” she said with assurance. “Believe me, he’s
nothing if not polite.”
“What
do I say if he asks where you are?”
Jen
smiled tightly. “You don’t know. That’s why I’m not telling you. He’d get it
out of you somehow. So it’s better if you honestly don’t have any idea. He’ll
believe you. Eventually,” she added.
Emma
shook her head. “OK. I’ll go over there tomorrow morning before I go to work. I
assume you’ll be gone by then?”
“Oh
yeah. My car is packed. I’m taking off as soon as I run a few errands and stop
by to see Gran. But listen, Em. Mason goes to work really early. Better to go
tomorrow evening.”
Emma
tossed a pillow at her sister. “Fine. I’ll go tomorrow night. I’ll take Chaos
with me,” she added, looking around for her dog, who was suspiciously quiet at
the moment. She stood up and looked around the corner of her kitchen island.
The dog was splayed on his back in the middle of the floor, looking longingly
up at the countertop, ever hopeful. When he saw Emma, his tail began wagging,
sweeping the kitchen floor in the process. Emma noted the need to get her dust
mop out - Chaos was shedding again.
Jen’s
voice came from the living room where Emma had left her. “Don’t. He hates
dogs.”
Oh,
now that was a serious red flag, Emma thought. In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d
heard right. What man didn't like dogs?
Jen
was still talking. “They slobber. And shed. He’s kind of a perfectionist. Or
neat freak. Or...”
“Oh
for the love of God. So no great love for cats either, I presume.”
“Nope.
Part of our deal was no animals. See? No need to feel sorry for him. You can’t
possibly feel bad for a guy who would hate Chaos.”
Emma
laughed as Jen stood up and gathered up her coat and purse. “OK. So call me.
Let me know you’re safe and when you’re coming home. I still love you, even
though I think you’re a nutcase.”
“Right
back at you,” Jen grinned. “And don’t worry. I wouldn’t miss Thanksgiving and
Gran’s ‘homemade’ stuffing for all the world.”
Emma
snorted. “Ha. Funny. At least the potatoes are still real. If they switch to
boxed potato flakes, I’m boycotting dinner.”
Jen
laughed as she headed for the door. “On the bright side, if dinner becomes
inedible, there’s always Chaos. We can feed him under the table like we fed
Jasper when we were kids,” she said. “And then go get hamburgers at Joe’s.”
Emma
grinned, remembering many a meal when they were kids when they did exactly
that. When their parents weren’t looking, they would feed the parts of their
dinner that they didn’t want to their very large mastiff who used to lay under
the table, his head facing toward their chairs. Some nights, Jasper ate two
full dinners, plus his own bowl of dog food, while Emma and Jen found excuses to
go outside for a while, then raced down to Joe’s diner on their bikes. Ah,
those were the days, she thought. Chaos should be so lucky.
Watching
her sister drive away, Emma again gave thanks for the close relationship that
they had. She loved Jen, crazy impulsive nature and all. She was fun. She was
loving. And most of all, she was Emma’s best friend, and had been since they
were kids. As different as they were growing up, they were probably even more
different now. Jen moved from job to job, from man to man, and just lived life
to its fullest. Emma was the opposite - she had worked in only two different
jobs since she graduated from law school, and dated only occasionally. And even
though Emma was the younger sister, she often felt older. Considerably older.
Ancient. She sighed. Ah well. Truth was, she’d miss Jen, wherever the heck she
was going, and for however long she was gone.
Stepping
inside and closing the door, she bent down to scritch Chaos on the head.
“It’s
you and me again, sweetie, at least until your Auntie Jen comes to her senses
and comes home again.”
Chaos
looked up at her mournfully.
“I
know. We love her,” she said softly. “Even if she is crazy. Come on. Let’s find
you a treat.”
The
next evening, after leaving Chaos at home and in his crate with a now-empty
bowl of dog-food, a now-licked-out Kong of peanut butter, and a
soon-to-be-destroyed squeaky toy, Emma headed out the door.