A Hope for Emily
* * *
“Yes.” It’s after seven, and I am so tired. All I want to do is make myself eat something, take a shower to wash the hospital smell off me, and go to bed.
“You must be hungry.” Andrew cocks his head. “Have you eaten?”
I can’t fathom why he’s asking as I answer. “No, not yet.”
“Do you want to come over? It’s just hamburgers on the grill, but…” He shrugs, smiling, making it sound so easy. “You’re more than welcome.”
I open my mouth to politely decline—what else can I do, after all—when I see Jake sidle up behind his father. He looks up at Andrew and then he smiles at me, and something in me breaks.
I’m so lonely. I haven’t let myself feel it fully, haven’t wanted to give over even a second of consideration for anything but Emily, but it hits me in the face now, a full body slam of breathlessness. In that moment, I could cry, not for Emily, but for myself.
“That’s really kind of you,” I begin hesitantly. What if he didn’t mean it? Do I even know how to make small talk anymore?
“There’s plenty,” Andrew says. “Right, Jake?”
Jake nods, gives me another shy, smiling look. I throttle back the tears gathering in my throat and behind my eyes, swallow down the howl in my chest, and manage a smile.
“Thank you,” I say. “That’s really nice. I’d love to.”
10
Eva
James is looking at me warily, waiting for me to speak. I feel frozen, poised on the precipice, except by speaking at all I’ve already leapt off. I’m in freefall and even though it’s too late, I realize I don’t want to do this.
“Well, Eva?” He sounds so tired, I almost drop it right then and there. Neither of us is ready for this conversation. “What’s up?”
I draw a breath. “Rachel came to see me a few days ago.”
“What?” James lurches upright, his elbows braced on his knees, his expression completely stunned. “What?” he says again, when I just stare at him, because even I didn’t expect him to be that jolted.
“She came to talk to me,” I repeat carefully. “About Emily.” That, I suppose, is obvious.
James rakes a hand through his head as he shakes his head slowly, clearly still reeling. “What… I mean why…”
“She wanted me to ask you to consider agreeing to the experimental treatment she’s been researching.” There. I’ve said it. I’ve done my duty. I don’t have to say anything anymore. In fact, I could commiserate with James, give him a little of Naomi’s attitude. What a nerve, right? We can both shake our head at Rachel’s chutzpah, leave it at that, and turn on the TV.
That’s what I want to do. It would be so easy. I could assuage my unwieldy conscience, forget about Rachel, and just live my damn life, because as Naomi said, as James believes, this doesn’t actually concern me.
But even as I think that, yearn for it, I know I won’t do it. I In part because it would be unfair to Rachel, but mostly because it’s not how I feel. I stay silent and wait to see how James will react.
“I just can’t believe… why would she…” He blows out a breath. “I’m sorry she did that. She already knows how I feel about this. For her to draw you into it… I’ll have to talk to her.”
“How do you feel about it?” I ask.
He gives me a frowning look, clearly surprised by my question. “Eva…” He sighs wearily. “This doesn’t have to concern you.”
He’s never said it so bluntly before, and a sudden fury rises up in me. “But it does,” I say as reasonably as I can, but I still hear a throb of feeling in my voice, like a riptide. “I’m your wife, James, and Rachel and Emily are a huge part of your life. You can’t cut me out of it. Of them.”
“I’m not cutting you out—”
“That’s what it feels like. I’m not allowed to ask about them. To know.”
“You’re being melodramatic—”
“Then surely you can tell me how you feel about the experimental treatment.”