You Were the First Mile

By Luna

Chapter 10: Chocolate Fudge Brownies with a Hint of Epiphany

Emma fiddled uncertainly with the coaster, spinning it over and over between her fingers nervously. She still didn't know what to say to Frank, who was sitting across from her at the same bar where they had met. She was exhausted from her stressful day, from the Christmas party, from Grant's surprising news—especially from Grant's news.

Frank had invited her out for a drink that evening in place of their lunch. Emma had wanted to say no, but the urge to finish things with him was too strong. It was time to end whatever relationship they had had together.

She hadn't had the time to plan a graceful letdown speech for him. Instead they were sitting across from each other, uncomfortably silent. The witty banter that usually flew between them was absent. Emma sighed. She wanted to be delicate with his feelings. He was nice, after all. He deserved nice treatment in return. She'd known from the start that he wasn't right for her. She thought it was obvious that nothing serious was holding them together. It didn't make any sense to wait for things to get complicated. She just didn't know how to tell him that.

She glanced at Frank, but he was staring stonily into the bottom of his glass of water. She couldn't help wondering what he was thinking about. Frank took a deep breath and met her eyes, and suddenly he was talking seriously.

"I don't know how to say what I've got to say, so I'm just going to get it all out there." He pursed his lips for a moment before continuing. "I've had a lot of fun with you, and you're really, really great, but I can't see you anymore."

Emma looked at him speechlessly. Her mouth actually gaped opened because she couldn't believe Frank. In all her years of casual dating, this had never happened to her before.

He'd beaten her to it!

Frank was anxiously watching her reaction, and he took her silence as a bad sign. He sighed and bowed his head. "I know this probably seems abrupt, and I feel like a real jerk." His mouth pulled down into a frown. "I'll understand completely if you're upset with me, and if you don't want to talk to me anymore."

Emma shook her head, finally regaining her powers of speech. She was suddenly fighting off the urge to laugh. What an inappropriate time to get the giggles, but she couldn't help it. Happiness was coursing through her. "Frank, no, I'm not upset. In fact, I was just about to say the exact same thing to you, but I didn't know how to word it. Well done, by the way."

It was Frank's turn to look surprised. She watched as the penitent expression on his face morphed into disbelief and then finally to happiness. He grinned slowly, still blinking in surprise. Emma was finally able to stop spinning the coaster. They both took a moment to reflect on their luck. It was the least sticky end Emma had ever experienced.

Emma allowed some of the laughter she'd been suppressing to bubble to the surface, and Frank joined in. She couldn't say why, exactly, they were laughing, but it felt right. The laughter dispelled the uncomfortable air surrounding them.

Frank shook his head slightly, running a hand down the side of his face. He couldn't seem to help himself from explaining the situation further. "I realized that I had to work things out with Jane, and it's not fair to drag you in to that. I still have significant feelings for her. She's good for me, and I think I can be good for her."

Emma couldn't be mad. The feelings just weren't there. After all, she had been about to break up with him, and she didn't even have a good reason. Frank had been nice, but she just didn't care for him. She couldn't seem to care about the reason he had ended it, either.

Frank was still looking very relieved and astounded. Every so often his mouth would drop open, and he would shake his head. He had obviously been expecting for things to turn ugly between the two of them. "I can't believe how things worked out," he said, looking into her eyes. "I don't think most girls are like you, Emma. Really, you should be at least a little mad at me."

Emma laughed at that. "I can pretend and make a scene if you'd like. Throw my drink in your face…"

Frank shook his head no, and Emma smiled. She thought for a moment and then shrugged. "I can't pretend that what we had meant something. We both know it didn't." She gave him a small side smile. "I can't fake something I don't feel. For whatever reason, I was safe from you, and you were safe from me. Since you obviously still have feelings for Jane, I'm not surprised you didn't feel anything for me." Emma still didn't know what had kept her from feeling anything for Frank, but she shrugged. "We're just lucky it all worked out this way."

Frank nodded seriously. "And I think this calls for a round of drinks." He gave her a look out of the corner of his eye. "Well, maybe just Pepsi this time."

Emma laughed. He was obviously remembering the last occasion he had purchased rounds of drinks for them. That particular night had ended very differently for the two of them. Still, she liked that they had come full circle. She took a deep breath and looked around the bar. People were reflecting the cool color scheme of the neon beer signs, and their glasses twinkled in the reddish, dim light. She had half expected a messy break up scene as well and couldn't help rejoicing in her luck.

She'd left the end of a relationship unscathed yet again and was left sitting with a feeling of total calm and peace. She wished that people who weren't right for each other could always rationally admit it like her and Frank. What a waste of energy it was to pretend anything other than the truth. She hoped to always be so clear sighted.

If only she had been able to do the same for Harriet and Phil. She sighed in dejection, but then remembered that Harriet was interested in Rob again. She hadn't ruined everything permanently. It had only taken a little while for everything to return to normal. Although it was hard to believe it during the moment, time really healed all things.

She sighed and smiled, clunking her glass with Frank in a final salute. Emma knew that, despite everything, things were going to be okay.

Harriet laughed as Emma sloppily poured the brownie batter into the pan. Emma and Harriet had finished their last final exams early that morning. The dreaded math final was over, and Harriet was leaving in a few minutes to go see how she'd done. The professor was posting the grades outside his door that afternoon. Emma set the pan in the oven, and the girls set to work on the bowl, using their fingers to get the leftovers. They both deserved a well earned reward for their hard work.

Baking had always been a cathartic activity for Emma. She baked when she felt stressed. Unlike Harriet, she wasn't worried about her final. The fact that it was Grant's last day at the daycare was bothering her instead.

She'd returned home early from her meeting with Frank and almost immediately crashed in her bed. Unfortunately, the memory of her last words with Grant all came crashing back to her as soon as she awoke in the morning. The gnawing feeling that everything was her fault wouldn't leave her.

She managed to suppress it long enough to finish her final, but it was back full force and had resulted in batch after batch of brownies.

The whole apartment smelled wonderful, and Emma had managed to make herself feel slightly better. She ran her finger around the bowl, catching the leftover goop. It tasted delicious.

"I heard students whispering about you while I was in the math office today," Harriet said, licking her own fingers. She had a smudge of the brownie batter on the corner of her mouth, and she smiled. "Something about you and Frank Churchill? Nobody would tell me anything though, and they kept looking at Jane Fairfax." She looked at Emma with wide, expectant eyes.

Emma rolled her eyes at the lack of tact her peers often displayed. She reached over and wiped the smudge off Harriet's face. "How did Jane react?"

Harriet shrugged. "She was in her own little world really. I don't think she heard anyone talking, or maybe she just pretended she didn't. I don't know. She was smiling more than normal, but what's going on? Are you dating him?"

Emma licked the batter off her finger and shook her head. "Definitely not. We were having a bit of a fling, but he's going back to Jane Fairfax, who he was originally dating. They were taking a break when we met." She paused, contemplating her cabinets. She opened several, searching. "Do you have any chocolate chips? I feel like making cookies too."

Harriet looked dumbfounded and ignored the last part of Emma's sentence. "You're not upset? Didn't that hurt you?" she sputtered. Her brow was furrowed in confusion.

Emma didn't know how to explain to Harriet the fact that she cared nothing for Frank. Harriet was nothing but a moving ball of feelings. When she was up she was soaring, and when she was down there was nothing to bring her out of her deep depression.

Things didn't affect Emma to the same degree, and she had long since realized that the ways in which she behaved would never work for Harriet, who felt everything to the deepest degree. This was just another example.

Emma shrugged and smiled. "No, I never had any feelings for him, so he couldn't hurt me. You have to care for something to be able to hurt you. Frank and I seemed to be on the same page about everything, which was useful when it came time to end things. We ended on perfectly good terms. I just hope that he's doing the right thing by going back to Jane." Emma wasn't sure that two such different personalities were ever going to be able to sustain their relationship.

Harriet shook her head in confusion, reaching for the batter bowl. "You're crazy," she muttered, and Emma laughed.

"I just don't see the point in getting worked up over things that don't matter. Now, if it were someone I'd really cared about…then I'd make a scene; people would probably be cowering in fear. But Frank was just for fun." She thought for a moment. "I just hope that people aren't distorting the ending. I wish you'd heard more of what people were saying."

She knew that the truth that started many of the rumors sometimes became so skewed that it no longer came close to resembling the actual series of events. She already had the feeling that it was happening to her story.

She decided to change the subject. Rumors about herself could never hold her attention for long. "So, any news about a certain boy?" Emma asked. She and Harriet had had several recent conversations about Harriet's crush, and Emma was beyond certain that it was Rob Martin. Although Harriet had wanted to tell her, Emma refused to hear his name. She was afraid that the temptation to meddle would still be too strong, and she didn't want to be responsible for causing anyone else pain again.

Harriet broke out into a dimpled smile. The thought of whomever it was never failed to bring a wide smile to her face. She looked up at Emma hopefully. "I think something will happen soon," she said, all of a flutter. "I really do. We were having the best conversation today. He's so funny; I laughed for almost a half an hour. I think maybe at our next tutoring session—"

Harriet was still talking, but Emma had long since stopped hearing the words. It was like someone had run in and rearranged her whole world, and she was still reeling from it. She didn't like the way the new world felt, and she wanted to go back to the old one because Harriet was not talking about Rob, and Emma finally knew it.

And for the first time, Emma was beginning to see something else very clearly too.

Harriet was still eating the remnants of the brownie batter, unaware that anything major had occurred to alter her friend.

"You've been talking about Knightley this whole time? You have feelings for him?" Emma sputtered, her hands gripping the countertop for support. She was breathing fast in shock.

Harriet nodded sheepishly. "I never even would have met him or given him a second thought if you hadn't introduced us. He's perfect. He's amazing, and lately, I don't know. I'm just starting to think that he really likes me."

"Why?" Emma asked, and her voice was much too loud for polite inquiry.

Harriet finally seemed to notice that something was not quite right. She gave Emma a startled look, and her voice became more defensive. "When he switched seats with Phil, I started to notice him. I was so embarrassed and humiliated, but he talked to me the whole night and really calmed me down. I've never had such fun talking to a guy. I did what you said; I waited, and I didn't assume anything, but at tutoring all we do now is talk, and I can feel something in our relationship changing. I think it's obvious how he feels for me when we're alone. He's so nice."

Emma was frantically reviewing the events for herself, flashes of evenings running through her mind. She had always been too focused on herself to notice Harriet. Emma could not believe that she'd been so blind to everything, so wrong, but she also couldn't get rid of the sinking feeling in her stomach.

Grant had helped save Harriet from public humiliation. He'd handled it so gracefully that Emma wasn't surprised Harriet had fallen for him, but did that mean that he reciprocated? He had told Emma on numerous occasions how great he thought Harriet was. She knew he was really pleased with her progress during tutoring sessions. She had never asked him anything about Harriet; he had always freely volunteered the information. Was Harriet right in thinking that it all meant something? Emma's heart felt like it was resting very painfully near her throat.

"I always meant to ask you about how you felt about him, and if it was okay for me to like him. You never talk about him so I wasn't sure. I know how close of friends you are. I didn't know if—"

"No. Knightley is completely wrong for you," Emma croaked. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to speak with less venom and more quiet understanding. She took a deep, calming breath, but the condescension wouldn't leave her voice. "I know you think that all of these things mean something, but I'm sure he's just being nice. He acts that way with everyone. You don't even really know him. I'm sure; he's not interested. "

Harriet was looking highly offended. Two bright splotches of pink stood out on her cheeks. She stood up from where she had been sitting and narrowed her eyes.

"Why should I listen to you? I did before and that only brought me humiliation. You don't know anything—not even your own feelings. You should figure yourself out before you try to give me advice. If it turns out that he doesn't like me, fine, then I was wrong. But I'm not going to know until I try." She turned to grab her coat and her keys. "I'm going to see how I did on my final." She slipped her coat on angrily, and her voice was cold as she left Emma staring stupidly at the oven dials, too shocked to move or speak. She didn't jump when the front door slammed shut. The enormity of what she had been unaware of was becoming apparent.

It was suddenly very clear to Emma that the reason she didn't want Harriet to date Grant was the same reason that it had been unacceptable and unthinkable for Jane Fairfax and Marianne or any girl, for that matter. It was also the reason why she had never felt anything for Frank or any of her countless other conquests. It was the reason that a day later, the remembrance of a chaste, three second kiss still made her pulse speed up.

Emma wanted Grant. She loved him. Grant couldn't be with anyone else—only her. It was inconceivable that he would want to be with anyone but her. In that moment, alone in her kitchen, Emma was certain beyond a doubt that Grant loved her back. It was so painfully obvious. He didn't care for Harriet any more than anyone else he was helping. Heather, Henry, Harriet, it didn't make any difference. He was generous and kind to everyone, but Emma knew there was more to it than that with her.

He had real feelings for her. She had felt it months ago that night in the kitchen, only she hadn't yet realized what exactly it was she was feeling. She turned her head slowly to look at the tiles where they had stood so closely. She finally understood why Grant had run out so suddenly.

It had been there the night of the gala when they'd danced. He hadn't held her and danced with her like a friend, but like a lover. She could name a million other little moments just like it that she had experienced with Grant. It was so obvious. Everything was right there when they'd kissed.

She was kicking herself for ever thinking that the feelings that tied her to Grant were simply ones of friendship. Why had they waited so long to be together?

She knew it was all her fault. She'd been scared of what she felt.

After proclaiming for years that she was untouchable and unattainable, she couldn't admit that someone had managed to touch her. Emma hadn't been ready to open herself up to the possibility of getting hurt. She'd wasted her time instead on men that meant absolutely nothing because they were safer, and now she had to face the fact that she might lose him to Harriet.

Emma looked at the clock. She still had half an hour before she was supposed to be at the daycare, but she didn't care. She was going in early.

It was his last day volunteering, and she had to let Grant know how she felt. After so much fumbled, wasted time, she couldn't wait a moment longer.