This is a long one. Reviews much appreciated.
Chapter 10: Letting Go
Emma didn't go to Regionals to send Carl a message that they were through. In fact, she was pretty sure given his penchant for drama that his ultimatum was hollow. She didn't go to send a message to Will either, or at least that's what she told herself. She went for a simple reason: Glee club performances made her feel joy. And she needed some joy.
As she parked at the auditiorium, she had second thoughts about whether this was a good idea. Will hadn't invited her and she was worried about how he would interpret her presence. She decided to sit unobtrusively in the back until New Directions performed and then duck out.
Emma followed a crowd of people through the door and into the building. She recognized a few parents, but she was able to slip into the auditorium unnoticed. Seats were beginning to fill up, but she found one on the right side of the stage towards the back. She glanced at the program, noting that New Directions was performing second. She imagined how Rachel had taken the news and smiled, fondly recalling her one-day stint as Glee Club Director.
When the competition started, The Warblers took the stage. Emma was happy to see Kurt thriving in his new school. She wanted to rush the stage and give him a big hug after his beautiful duet with the lead singer.
When they performed Raise Your Glass, she felt a surge of optimism. Pink's lyrics were empowering and the Warblers put on a great show. She found herself tapping her foot, bouncing her head to the beat, and singing along. Emma congratulated herself on her decision to attend and couldn't wait to hear what New Directions had planned.
As the crowd rose to its feet to cheer the The Warblers, Emma saw the McKinley kids standing in the wings. And off to the side, pacing like a caged animal, was their leader. She felt a tingle run through her core. She clapped for Kurt, but couldn't move her eyes from Will. He exuded an intensity, a passion for his work, that she had always found irresistible. She could feel his love for the kids and his desire to see them succeed in every gesture. She grinned as she noticed him run his hands through his hair again, and her nervousness grew.
Finally the music started, and when Tina and Mercedes sang the opening verse, Emma was transported to an unexpected place.
Happiness hit her like a train on a track.
Coming towards her, stuck still no turning back.
She hid around corners and she hid under beds.
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled.
The lyrics penetrated her skin and settled in her bones. She wrapped her arms around her torso, suddenly quivering. She reached into her purse for tissues as she felt her sinuses fill up and tears begin to flow. The woman on her right shifted uncomfortably away from her.
Emma cried silently through the rest of the set, staring blankly at the stage as she began to consider the ways in which she may have obstructed her own path to happiness. She knew that New Directions performed another song, and she had a vague sense that it was nice, although she didn't hear a word of it. She was still reeling from the first one. When people stood up to applaud, she followed. Her eyes were drawn back to a radiant Will, basking in the thrill of the kids' success. Then came a stab of jealousy as he shared this important moment with someone else.
As if he felt her yearning, his eyes suddenly locked on hers. She turned toward the stage, continuing to clap for the kids, pretending she didn't see him at first. She glanced back and saw him still peering in her direction, mouth agape. She offered a smile, but it never reached her eyes. Her lungs needed air.
Emma left the building, noting for the first time her flight response under stress. She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself, focusing on one step at a time. Her chest still felt tight and she wondered if she was having an anxiety attack. Then she heard her name from the only voice that mattered.
She tried to pull herself together, but he saw through her immediately. Emma would have collapsed in his arms but for the unmistakable barrier he had placed carefully between them. She understood his distance and she wanted more than anything to disappear, particularly when he asked the most important question of all: why had she come.
She knew there was only one answer he was looking for. And when he didn't hear it, he walked away.
With some difficulty seeing through the flood of tears, Emma finally unlocked the door of her car and slipped into the front seat. She put the key in the ignition and turned it one notch. Music from her CD player flowed through the speakers. She flipped to Track 6 and reclined her seat, knowing that the waterworks would continue for a while. She had no idea how many times she listened to "All by Myself." She just cried until she couldn't cry anymore.
And then she drove. Emma had no destination in mind. She just needed to be in motion. She started to think about why that song had become her personal anthem.
It didn't require extraordinary insight to recognize that she feared ending up alone, but didn't everyone? Her mind traveled back to the rank locker room where she made an agreement with a man she didn't love. Okay, that was rather extreme, she acknowledged.
Fast forward to Carl. Did I marry him because I was afraid of ending up alone? She didn't think so, but she couldn't rule it out either. She thought about their Vegas weekend and his marriage proposal in a gondola on the lake. It was every girl's dream-a romantic setting with a wonderful man who loved her. And after one too many glasses of celebratory champagne, Emma felt like Cinderella taking her first step toward happily ever after.
Ugh, why Cinderella? she groaned. Do I need to be rescued by a handsome prince?
She once advised Will that he didn't know who he was outside of a relationship. It occurred to her that she had the opposite problem. Once paired with a man, she became an enigma. She wondered whether it was a lack of experience or something deeper.
It's not that she hadn't dated. She seemed to get enough attention from men, despite cultivating a straight laced, bookish persona. But she drew hard lines when it came to the physical aspects of her relationships and most men lost patience with the "good girls don't" routine. That was fine with her. She had never liked anyone enough to be hurt when they left. She was mostly relieved.
And then there was Will. For a while, she safely classified him as a "work crush." He was handsome, talented, earnest, and sweetly committed to the Glee Club. She enjoyed flirting with him and he seemed to reciprocate. It was harmless fun, until their friendship started to grow into something more.
She found herself thinking about him after school, wondering what he was doing with his wife. Whenever she liked a new song on the radio or heard something amusing, she couldn't wait to tell him. She even fantasized about him leaving his pregnant wife for her. That's when she knew it had gone too far.
Ken was the easy way out. He adored her and promised to be satisfied with a marriage of companionship. It was truly an elegant solution: she could avoid the messiness of romantic feelings and physical attraction and neither of them would end up alone.
In retrospect, Emma saw that she had pushed Ken away by continuing her flirtation with Will. She wasn't strong enough to end it with him, but she treated their relationship with such disrespect that he was forced to make the call for both of them. She was grateful he did.
She remembered sitting in the VFW hall like it was 5 minutes ago. The musty scent of old, cheap carpeting mixed with dishwater and used Sterno. A melting hockey player, dripping rhythmically while kitchen staff attempted to mute the sounds of clean-up in the presence of a jilted bride. Resignation that she would always be alone. Shame.
Will appeared like an angel. In her fragile state, she confessed all. But she wasn't prepared for his response. When he told her he left his wife, she froze.
Emma hadn't seen it coming and she didn't know what to do when it arrived. She had spent so much time pining for Will that she never really considered what it would be like to have him. When it became clear that he wanted her in return, she got scared. She invented a hundred reasons why it wasn't right, some more legitimate than others, but ultimately she retreated behind her wall of No.
And then he gave her a reason to stay there.
Emma jumped as her phone buzzed in the center console. Her heart sank as she thought about whether she was ready to communicate with Carl. She tuned in to her surroundings for the first time since leaving Regionals and didn't recognize a thing. She saw a convenience store in the distance and figured she should ask for directions back to Lima.
When she put the car in park, she couldn't resist the blinking red light on her phone. She picked it up and a warmth spread through her chest. It wasn't Carl. It was a text message from Will:
hey good luck charm, we won! …...hope you are okay.
She held the phone to her cheek and choked up again. Emma was tired of crying, but his gesture meant so much after the way they parted. He was thinking about her. She wanted to reply, but the only words that came to mind reeked of cordial distance.
She stopped thinking and started to type. Before pressing Send, Emma stared at the display:
I love you.
Her fingers had expressed the feeling she had been unwilling to voice.
I love him, she marveled, mesmerized by the words on the screen.
She caressed the screen with her index finger, then deleted the message and tipped her head back into the headrest.
"I love him,"she admitted aloud.
And while she felt some measure of relief and maybe even hope, it was quickly eclipsed by remorse and apprehension as she began to prepare for her conversation with Carl.
This time, she would be strong enough.
-X-
For weeks after she ended her marriage to Carl, Emma felt like she was floating around the perimeter of her life, watching the movements of her form, but absorbing nothing of the psychological or even physical elements of her existence. When her alarm went off, she clicked into gear, falling into the same routine she had always followed even after Carl had tried to disrupt it with his random morning schedule and spontaneous charm. She returned to the comfort of her uniform: pencil skirt, blouse, cardigan, brooch, nude panty hose, and heels. No thought required.
When she allowed herself to think, she often imagined her story in promotional sound bites delivered by a cheesy local news anchor: "Local dentist makes the World's Most Eligible Bachelor list after getting dumped by frigid guidance counselor." She wallowed in guilt.
At her biggest pity parties, she berated herself for wasting an entire year of Carl's life. In her more charitable moods, she acknowledged that he had known what he was signing up for.
Carl knew what she had come to say when she showed up at his door after Regionals and he didn't make it more difficult for her. They talked a lot, but mostly rehashed how and why things had gone awry.
He ended up apologizing for pushing her into marriage. He told her he thought it was just another step in his campaign to help her overcome her control issues, but later admitted that he may have had a subconscious desire to remove Will from the equation. She didn't fault him for it, really. She had given him plenty of reasons to doubt whether she was fully committed to the relationship.
Carl was a good man and Emma wished she could have loved him the way he deserved to be loved.
-X-
On a cloudy Friday, nearly 4 weeks after Regionals, Emma sat alone in the teachers' lounge, eating her usual lunch. Coach Beiste appeared at her table.
"Mind if I sit down?" she asked.
"Of course not! It's nice to see you, Shannon," Emma replied sincerely. "It's been a while since we've had lunch together."
"Yeah, I've been kinda, um, busy," she replied, awkwardly.
Emma knew that Shannon and Will had been having lunch together frequently-at odd times-no doubt avoiding her. She sighed.
"So how have you been?" Emma said.
"I'm great!" Shannon replied, as she began to unpack her large lunch bag. "But the real question is, how have you been?"
She looked at Shannon quizzically, unsure how to respond.
She replied, "I'm okay," nervously peeking at the diamond facade on her left ring finger.
"Can I be honest with you?" Shannon asked, leaning over the table conspiratorially.
Emma opened her eyes wide and nodded nervously.
In a loud whisper, she observed, "You don't seem okay."
She let the statement hang in the air between them, raising her eyebrows in anticipation, waiting for Emma to break the silence.
Flustered, Emma didn't want to know why Shannon thought she didn't seem okay.
"I'm fine," she said, smiling politely. "I mean, except for the fact that it's overcast today. You know, I find sunny days so much more pleasant, don't you?"
Shannon rolled her eyes, not even attempting to mask her contempt for small talk.
She leaned toward Emma again.
"Listen, Emma. Let's cut the bullshit. I know you are going through a rough time. And I'm not going to force you to talk about it. Everyone deals with stuff in their own way. But I am going to offer up a suggestion."
Emma nodded hesitantly, surprised at Shannon's candor, but curious.
"I think you could use a night out. I want you to join me at The Burr tonight."
"You are inviting me to a country western bar?" Emma asked disbelievingly.
"Yep."
"Um...thank you, that's very sweet. But I'm not really a 'drown my sorrows in beer' kind of gal."
"Ha! I'm not talking about drinking. I'm talking about line dancing!"
Emma giggled. "Line dancing?"
"Yeah, best form of therapy out there. You gotta try it!"
Caught up in Shannon's enthusiasm and flattered that she cared enough to invite her out, Emma said, "Okay, sure. Why not? I'll try line dancing."
"Awesome!" Shannon exclaimed.
"How bout I'll pick you up at 6:30 so we can get there in time for the lesson? I don't want to leave you in the dust when the dance floor heats up!"
"Okay," Emma said, unsure about what she was getting herself into. "Um, what should I wear?"
Shannon eyed Emma's yellow blouse with the floppy bow and said, "Not that."
She looked down, slightly offended, but Shannon's hearty laugh broke the tension.
"You got a pair of jeans?"
"Yes, I think I can manage that." Emma huffed.
"Okay then. This is going to be fun!" Shannon winked at Emma.
-X-
Emma rushed home after school, excited to have plans for the first time in weeks. She didn't even linger at her front entrance lamenting the empty coat rack and shoe tray. She went straight to her closet to start planning her outfit.
Okay, so jeans, she thought. I can do jeans.
She undressed quickly, putting her blouse, nylons, and underwear in the hamper and her skirt in the dry cleaning bag. She placed her work heels in their proper spot on the shoe tree. Naked, she walked to her dresser for fresh underwear. Emma scanned the organized groupings of bras and panties and settled on a lacy raspberry matching set. She was in a feminine mood.
Over the raspberry ensemble, she wore her one pair of designer jeans and a simple white button down shirt. She didn't have any plaid shirts or cowboy boots, but she did tie a small green scarf around her neck. She completed the outfit with a pair of strappy raspberry sandals that were comfortable enough for dancing and super cute. Emma loved matching her shoes to her underwear.
She stood in front of the mirror while she tucked in her shirt and added a thick brown embroidered leather belt. She took a step back and admired the look. Emma felt surprisingly happy.
She emerged from her walk-in closet to find her bed bathed in golden orange sunshine. She couldn't resist laying down across the middle of the bed. She stretched her arms above her head and enjoyed the feel of the soft, cool comforter. For the first time in weeks, she had no compulsion to cry. Progress.
The doorbell buzzed and startled Emma. She looked at the time and realized it must be Shannon. She ran to the door and opened it.
"Got your dancing shoes on?" Shannon said mischievously.
"Hi!" Emma said. "Please come in and make yourself comfortable. I just need to freshen up before we go."
"Sure."
Emma heard Shannon mutter to herself, "Freshen up? What has she been doing for the last hour?"
She laughed as she walked into the bathroom.
Emma fluffed her hair and added a touch of hairspray. She checked her make-up and added some lip gloss. Her diamond ring glistened in the mirror as she ran her hand through her hair one last time. She stopped cold and stared at her left hand. Slowly, she removed the ring from her finger and placed it on the vanity.
"Ready?" she called to Shannon.
"I'm not the one primping, Missy."
-X-
Shannon introduced Emma to the line dancing instructor and made her way to the bar at The Burr. She ordered a beer and chatted with some of the regulars while watching her friend learn the basics. Emma was more coordinated and musical than she expected, but not exactly a fast learner.
At the end of the lesson, Emma walked to the bar, dejected.
"I'm going to be the worst one out there," she whined.
"Nah! You're doing great."
Pouting, Emma replied, "Thanks, but you know I'm horrible."
"How about a little liquid courage?" Coach Beiste joked as she held out her beer.
Emma looked at the offering, horrified by the idea of drinking out of someone else's glass, but not wanting to be a bad sport..
She took a sip.
"Ooooh, so so bitter!" she grimaced.
Shannon laughed and turned to the bartender. "Hey Rick, what's your girlie beer special tonight?"
"Blue Point on tap," he grumbled.
"Can you pour me one of those? And throw in some extra fruit if ya got it."
Shannon waited for the beer, then handed it to Emma who sat down on the stool next to hers.
"Here ya go, Cinderella. Try this."
Emma looked at it as if it was radioactive. She wrapped the glass carefully in a napkin and brought it to her lips.
Shannon eyed Emma suspicously.
"Hmmmm...different," Emma observed, "...and not bad."
The warm, tingly feeling in her belly made it taste even better.
She took another sip that turned into more of a gulp, and then another.
"We forgot to toast!" Emma suddenly remembered.
"Right, toast," Shannon replied.
"A toast," Emma started, "to line dancing therapy and fruity liquid courage!"
They clinked glasses and Shannon watched Emma take another long gulp then set her beer down loudly on the bar.
Emma giggled as she watched the blueberries settle at the bottom of the glass.
"Look, blueberries!"
Shannon grinned. She had forgotten how fun drinking with a lightweight could be.
"Shannon, thank you for inviting me out," Emma said earnestly.
"Oh, this is just the beginning, Honey. Finish up that beer so we can hit the dance floor!"
Emma took one last sip and jumped off her bar stool with an enthusiastic, "I'm ready!"
-X-
They danced for several songs. Shannon gave up trying to coach Emma once she realized that a buzzed Emma was even slower on the uptake and less coordinated. But if the number of times she cracked herself up was any indication, she was having a blast. In fact, Shannon had to drag her off the dance floor to get another beer.
They settled into a booth far away from the speakers so they could hear each other talk. A waitress came over to take their order.
"Black and Tan for me and a Blue Point for her," Shannon requested.
"Extra blueberries, please," Emma added coyly.
Emma turned to Shannon as the waitress walked away and said, "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"How's Will?"
Shannon hesitated.
"He's all right," she replied cautiously.
"Would you tell me if he wasn't?" Emma wondered.
"Probably not." Shannon smirked.
They sat in silence for a while, drinking and watching people on the dance floor.
Emma lifted her glass for a last sip, then placed it back on the table.
She ran her finger down the side of the empty glass.
"I miss him," she said quietly.
Shannon nodded her head sympathetically and wondered if she should turn her off after this glass. Two beers in and she is heading into sad drunk territory? Crap.
As if she had read her friend's mind, Emma perked up and said, "Let's call him!"
Or horny drunk, Shannon thought.
"Not so sure that's a good idea, Emma."
"Why not?"
"Because by my calculations you are going to be officially drunk in about 4 minutes. Therefore any call you make from this point forward will be a drunk dial. And nothing good ever comes from a drunk dial. Trust me."
Emma pulled out her phone and said, "How about a text instead? Does that count?"
She began to type as Shannon said, "Yes, it counts and it's still a bad idea."
Emma read the words aloud as she typed...
I think im going to need more danc lesssons...or maybe just more blooberry beer.
"See, what's wrong with that?" she replied as she hit send.
Shannon shook her head in disapproval.
Emma continued typing...
Shannon is an awesome line dancer! Come dance with us!
Emma swallowed another gulp and jokingly sneered at Coach Beiste, very satisfied with herself.
Shannon rolled her eyes and wondered how the night was going to shake out.
"I have to pee. Be right back." Emma said as she bounced happily out of the booth.
"Oh, and if the waitress comes back, I'll have another one of those, with ex..."
"Extra blueberries, I know," Shannon interrupted, already thinking of ways to dissuade her friend from taking another sip of alcohol.
She watched as Emma teetered between tables on her way to the bathroom. She checked her watch and said, "Yep, 4 minutes on the money."
-X-
While she was in the bathroom stall, she heard another woman enter the bathroom, humming one of her favorite Taylor Swift songs. Emma started to sing along, "So this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night." The humming stopped abruptly and Emma heard a hearty laugh. She giggled in return when she realized what she had done. She flushed the toilet and opened the door to find herself face to face with the voice that she should have recognized: April Rhodes.
"April!" Emma exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question!" April snapped back, ..."if I knew who you were."
Emma stiffened up and tried to look more composed than she felt.
"Emma Pillsbury? Guidance Counselor from McKinley High? Ring any bells?"
"McKinley! Home of the oh-so-fine Mr. Schuester!" April whooped.
Emma's face dropped while April began to preen in the mirror.
"How is my friend, Will anyway? I haven't seen him in ages."
Emma blinked a few times and tried to adjust to this surreal scene. She was standing in a bathroom, possibly drunk, talking to the woman who had slept with the man she loved, no loves.
Oblivious to Emma's discomfort, April kept talking.
"What I wouldn't do to get between the sheets with that hot bod. Whoa!"
A fierce wave of jealousy swept over Emma.
"Funny, rumor has it you already did", she blurted out.
"Ha! I wish!" April bellowed, untroubled by Emma's hostile tone.
"Ya know, I really thought I had a chance the night he let me crash at his place," she mused. "But he was too busy pining over some redhead." April sighed.
Emma's mouth flew open and her head started to spin.
"What's wrong, Punkin'? You look a little spooked or something."
Emma just stared.
"Heeeeyyyy, you have red hair." April commented, slowly putting two and two together. "Are you the redhead?"
"Ahhhhh...that explains it," she said to herself, turning back to the mirror. "I am definitely not his type."
"So you two never...?" Emma said, rediscovering her ability to speak.
"Never even got to first base, despite my best attempts! Waste of a bikini wax, actually," April complained.
Emma was so happy she almost cried. She beamed at April stupidly, feeling an overwhelming desire to hug the woman she had vilified for over a year.
"April, I think I owe you a drink," Emma said, putting her arm around her shoulder.
"Music to my ears!" April chuckled. "Bartender, here we come!"
They walked out of the bathroom arm in arm, giddily heading toward the bar.
Emma pointed at Shannon who had moved from their booth to the bar and said, "That's my friend, Shannon. She's the new football coach at McKinley and she's AWESOME!"
"And speak of the devil, would ya look at who she's talking to? Will Schuester!" April yelled, sprinting into his arms like a miniature linebacker.
"April! Hi!" he said, reacting to her rush by hugging her back.
But he couldn't take his eyes off Emma, standing loosely behind April, looking absolutely adorable in jeans, and grinning at him goofily.
He released April, and with a matching goofy grin said, "Hi Em."