Transparencies
Pain shot through Emma's neck and she stretched, accidentally knocking Will in the head.
"I know I lied about being your fiancé, but there's no need to hit me."
Her eyes fluttered open from where her head lay on his shoulder. "Sorry." She sat up and Will's hand gently rubbed circles on the back of her neck. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. "Did I miss anything?"
He shook his head. "The doctor made his rounds, but no change."
Emma glanced at her mother, whose head was resting against her brother's shoulder. He had been wary of Will when she introduced the two of them. Though she and James didn't necessarily speak regularly, she did consider them close. To show up out of the blue with a fiancé was probably not something her brother was prepared for.
"You two should take Mom home," James said. "I'll stay here."
"What time is it?"
"A little past midnight," Will replied. Emma nodded as James gently shook their mother awake.
"Mom?"
She bolted upright as if someone had just thrown a bucket of water on her. "What's happened?"
"Nothing, Mama. No change." Emma stood and walked over to her mother and brother. "Will and I are going to take you home. James will stay here."
She looked reluctant, glancing from her children to the room their father occupied.
"Mom, it'll probably be hours before we hear anything and I'll call you the minute I do," James reasoned.
Adeline nodded as Will held out his hand, helping her up. "Thank you, dear." She took his face and kissed both of his cheeks. "I never properly welcomed you into the family. I'm sorry this is your first introduction to it."
He gave her a sad smile that did not reach his eyes. "I wish it could have been under better circumstances."
She patted his cheek once more and turned toward her son.
"You call me the minute you hear anything."
"The second, Mom, I promise." James kissed Emma on the cheek, only offering Will a nod. "I'll see you guys tomorrow morning."
The ride home was nauseating, the roads relentlessly winding. Emma watched Will grip the steering wheel and ably negotiate the dark turns on the country road. Her mother sat peacefully in the front seat, gazing out the window without really seeing.
"Left up here," Adeline said, automatically.
Will nodded and turned the car as Emma's childhood home came into view. It was dark, its lights forgotten in the rush of a tragic afternoon. She had played many games in that yard as a little girl: tea parties, damsel in distress rescues, fashion shows. But then she turned eight and decided she wanted to be a dairy farmer. That's when the outdoor games came to an end.
As Will put the car into "park," Emma unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out into the cool air, inhaling the sent of pine and burning wood from some far off fireplace.
Will shut the front door behind the two women and Adeline wrapped her arms around Emma, holding her close. Emma inhaled the familiar scent of her mother and closed her eyes tight against the tears.
"Emma, you and Will are in your old room." Adeline said, pulling away and reaching for Will. "Thank you for getting her here, sweetheart." She wrapped her arms around him and he gingerly rubbed her back.
"Of course," he replied. Adeline released him and trudged up the stairs, Emma following her every move.
"You look like you're about to collapse," Will murmured in her ear.
She nodded and reflexively reached for his hand, leading him up the stairs. "I'll give you the tour tomorrow." The gum wrapper shifted as his fingers threaded through hers and she twisted her wrist to stare at the silver paper.
Will gave a sheepish chuckle, "I had to improvise."
"I like it." Neither knew if she was talking about the wrapper or the sentiment behind it.
Emma nudged the door to her room open and nostalgia washed over her as she stood in the doorway. The light pink walls complemented the white lace bedding, but other than an old jewelry box and a hope chest, the room was relatively bare. She had gotten rid of her toys one summer when it had become too difficult and time consuming to clean them after every play date.
Will cleared his throat and Emma followed his gaze to the queen-sized bed. "Mama usually cares about stuff like this… tradition and whatnot, but right now I don't think she's worried about putting us in separate rooms."
"Nothing we haven't done before." Will gave her a reassuring smile before falling face first on the bed and groaning into the pillow. "'m tired," he said, his voice muffled.
Emma crawled up next to him a little more gracefully. "Me too." She toed off her Mary Janes and laid down beside him, not even bothering to undress. "I'm sorry."
He lifted his head off the pillow. "For what?"
"When I told you we should take things slow, this isn't exactly what I had in mind. And I'm sorry to put you through this so soon after…" she trailed off, knowing full well he understood her meaning.
He scooted closer and cupped her face in his hand. "Emma, none of this is your fault."
"But," she bit her lip, "you wouldn't be going through this again if it wasn't for me."
Will sat up and pulled her to a seated position as well so she had no choice but to look into his hazel eyes. "I know we said we'd go slow and give things time. But I also know I put a gum wrapper on your finger tonight and that meant more to me than any piece of jewelry I might have given anyone else." He inhaled shakily as Emma's heart thumped louder against her ribcage. "I don't want to scare you, but you need to know… I'm in this for the long haul."
Emma was a whirlwind of emotion: fear, hope, and love were all fighting for dominance within her and she didn't know whether to run from him or kiss him. She went with the latter.
Later, she would chalk it up to her weakened, emotional state, but when her eyes flicked to Will's lips and she leaned in, there was nothing she wanted more in that moment. She closed her eyes, feeling his breath warm her cheek, but just as her lips were about to brush his, he placed a hand on her cheek and pulled back.
She opened her eyes and blinked rapidly, "What?"
"We… when this happens, I want to do it right." His thumb rubbed gentle circles on her jaw line. "This… this isn't right. Not yet."
Emma nodded, knowing full well he was right. He shouldn't have kissed her right after his mother died and yet here she was about to make the same mistake.
"Let's go to bed," he said, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. "It's been a long day."
She nodded and watched as Will stood up, pulling his shirt off. Her eyes went wide and a noise must have escaped her lips because Will turned around abruptly.
"Oh sorry. Habit, I guess." He held his shirt up to his chest and she almost laughed.
"Nothing I haven't seen before."
His ears turned as pink as the walls and he let the shirt drop to the bed. She had to admit, it wasn't a bad view.
"I guess it would seem odd if we kept changing in the bathroom since we're, you know, engaged and all."
Emma couldn't help the little flip her stomach did at his words. "Right."
They stared at each other for a moment before turning around simultaneously and continuing to undress. Emma unbuttoned her cardigan, using all of her willpower to not sneak a peek over her shoulder.
"My mother seems to like you," she said, making small talk as she un-tucked her shirt from her skirt.
"What's not to like?"
She tossed her cardigan over her shoulder and, judging by the muffled noise that escaped his lips, she assumed it landed on his head.
"Joke, it was a joke."
It wasn't until she unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the carpet that she realized her pajamas were in her suitcase… which was on the floor next to Will.
"Um… Will?" She refused to look over at him.
"Yeah?" He asked, his back still turned from her.
"I, uh, I need my clothes."
"What? Oh." He must have spotted the suitcase. "What do they look like?"
"You've, um, you've seen it before. It's the purple nightgown… with the tie at the neck," she flushed.
"Trust me, I remember it well," he said softly.
She listened as he searched for a minute, her arms crossed protectively over her bra-clad chest.
"Aha, found it." They remained silent for a moment, as if trying to figure out how he would get the nightgown to her without either looking at the other. "Do you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you," she replied with a hint of incredulity, as if the notion of not trusting him was outrageous.
"I'm going to close my eyes and turn around and hand this to you. I promise I won't look."
And Emma knew he kept his word because when he turned with his hand over his eyes, he slammed his toe into the foot of the bed. She couldn't help but laugh at the string of profanities that left his mouth.
She took the nightgown from him and slid it over her head. "Are you okay?"
"I'll live."
Her gaze raked over his simple t-shirt and boxers. "You can open your eyes now."
His hand fell from his face and his eyes widened, probably at seeing her in the outfit she had gone dashing out of his apartment in.
They stood for a minute, facing each other, neither sure what move to make. Emma could see right through him: his eyes flicking to her nightgown before darting back to her face, his weight shifting nervously from foot to foot, the unconscious step he took towards her before reigning in the urge. He was her open book, one she liked to read when she thought no one else was looking.
Before she got caught admiring the way the t-shirt stretched across his chest, Emma grabbed her toiletry bag and fled for the safety of the bathroom.
The light above the mirror was harsh against her pale skin, washing her out against the off-white walls. She could pick out every feature that her parents had given her: her mother's hair, her father's hands, her grandmother's eyes, her father's ears, her mother's nose.
An image flashed in her mind before she could suppress it of a child with her hair and Will's eyes. Shaking her head, she squeezed the toothpaste onto her brush and scrubbed the image away.
Exactly two minutes later, she opened the door to find Will waiting on the other side, toothbrush hanging from his mouth.
"All yours," she whispered as she brushed past him.
"Thanks," he responded.
She returned to the bedroom and crawled under the covers. Having never really shared a bed before, she didn't know which side to sleep on. She usually just got in on the side closest to the door and stayed there for the rest of the night. She wasn't a restless sleeper. Will appeared in the doorway and she gestured to the bed.
"Do you have a preference?"
He stood at the foot of the bed and crossed his arms. "I used to. The right side was mine, but… then I sort of moved to the middle." He crawled up the bed next to her. "Tonight I think I'll take the left."
Emma bit her lip as he settled next to her, fully aware that Will took the left side because he wanted no part of Terri lingering. He slipped under the covers and his foot brushed against her leg. She shivered and Will wrapped an arm around her.
"Cold?"
She nodded and curled up into his side. His breath hitched. "Is this okay?"
She felt him nod against her head. The heat from his chest warmed her through her thin nightgown and she inhaled the smell of his t-shirt: fabric softener and something distinctly Will. All of a sudden, an overwhelming feel of despair washed over her and she twisted the fabric of his shirt in her hand, scared that he'd disappear if she let go.
She thought of her father, Will's mother, Carl... things that had touched and changed her life in the past few weeks. Her body began to shake and she buried her face into his shoulder.
"Hey, hey..." Will rubbed soothing circles on her back. "He'll pull through this, Emma."
"It's just not fair."
"What's not fair?" he asked, tilting her chin up.
She hiccupped. "So many things," she said, as tears dropped from her cheek to his shirt. "That my dad might get a second chance when your mother didn't."
"That's not how it works, Em," he replied, his expression pained. "I wish it was. Then maybe the drunk driver would be dead instead of my mom. But that's not really a healthy way to think about things either."
"But what if… what if I lost you tomorrow? Or the next day? I just got you..." The thin thread Emma was holding onto broke, letting loose all of the emotions she had been holding in all day.
"Em, you won't lose me." He took her face in his hands. "I promise you won't." Will pulled her tight to him and rocked her back and forth as she soaked his shirt.
It seemed like hours passed in the span of a few minutes as Emma drifted off, safe in the confines of Will's embrace.
She blinked her eyes open against the sun that streamed through the windows, glancing at her watch. 7:47.
She glanced up at Will's sleeping face and studied him. The worry lines were gone, the permanent crease of stress on his forehead had faded, and a small smile graced his features. She put her head back on his chest – where it had remained all night – and listened to the steady beat of his heart as her cheek rose and fell with his breath. She let her leg become entwined with his, pretending that it was all real. That it was a Monday morning, the alarm would go off soon, and they'd both have to get ready for school.
She was falling back into her pattern, the pattern she had worked so hard to break when he was still married. It was getting easy to pretend again. Too easy.
Will stirred and turned toward her, unconsciously pulling her to his chest, and wrapping a leg around her.
But how could she stop pretending when fantasy and reality kept blurring the lines?
Emma glanced at her left hand and noticed the silver wrapper had fallen off sometime in the middle of the night.
She would blame it on the entire situation, but Emma knew that when Will woke to find her sobbing into his t-shirt, she cried not for her father but for the stupid gum wrapper that shouldn't have meant as much as it did.
