I adjust the brown-paper shopping bags in my arms to allow myself to easily open the door. Once through the doorway, I notice how quiet it is. Not that I've ever encountered Emma's house when it was full of noise, but it is still uncomfortable in all its solitude. I can remember a time, not so long ago, when the mansion had this same hollow feel.
I go to put the groceries in the kitchen when I hear a faint "Gina?"
Leave it to Emma to not sound anxious that an unknown person has just entered her house. Then again, I have been coming and going a lot the last few days so perhaps I'm to blame for her compliancy.
I turn my head to try and place where the voice came from and my heart drops. I immediately see the blonde sprawled out on the couch with her eyes still closed.
"Sweetie, are you okay?" I ask as I rush to her side. Distractedly, I place the bags on the coffee table and kneel next to the couch.
She smiles and opens her eyes. "Yes, I'm fine." She looks over at me like she finds my moment of panic amusing.
"I promise." She adds, misinterpreting my glare. "Thanks to you, I'm actually feeling back to normal. I'm just a little tired, but otherwise, I'm good."
She does look better than she has since I found her three days ago. Her eyes are clear blue instead of the glassy mix that they have been. When I found her on Monday she was in the midst of a serious head cold, yet still trying to work at the station. She begged me to just magically cure her, even though she knew full well that there is no way to just cure the common cold. A few potions to boost her immune system and speed up the healing process were about the best I could do. I forced her to go home that day and have been coming by ever since to check in on her.
I give her my hand and help her up into a standing position.
"You look good." I comment on her healthy completion and change of clothes.
She puts a hand on her hip and exaggeratedly looks me up and down. "So do you." She finally says flirtatiously.
I roll my eyes. "Not what I meant."
She laughs and quickly reaches down and picks up one of the bags.
"Groceries?" She asks as she peaks inside to see the contents.
"Yes" I respond as I take the other bag and we make our way to the kitchen.
Emma pulls out the pasta from her bag and smirks at me. "You know, Henry and I were talking last night…"
I can tell just by her overly casual tone of voice that she is either going to tease me about something, or ask for a favor. Possibly both, knowing her lack of tact.
She continues, "We were saying how the only way we could love you more is if you made us that spicy pasta dish again."
A favor it is then.
Casually referencing that she loves me, yet again, without actually ever saying it directly is simultaneously irritating and points in her favor.
"The Cajun chicken pasta?" I question, knowing full well that this must be the dish she is referring to. I had been experimenting with new spices in my dishes for the last few months. Actually, it's been ever since that first long phone conversation when she told me about how her and Henry had eaten more multi-cultural food while in New York.
"Yes!" She confirms excitedly.
"I wasn't aware that I needed to bribe either of you to love me more. I should have known all it would take is food though." I comment while we put the groceries away.
"I'm going to text Henry and tell him I convinced you!" She says excitedly.
"I'll make it tomorrow if you manage to make it through your shift at work. Right now, I'm heating up soup."
"More of your magical healing soup? Count me in." She accepts the condition and hands me a pot to heat up the soup in.
We work together seamlessly in the kitchen and sit down at her table to eat it. It's all very domestic and comfortable.
"Pumpkin?" She asks after the first spoonful.
"I thought it would be festive." I explain.
"It's good."
"Thank you. Roland helped me make it last night."
"Oh right, how was babysitting?"
"It went really well. I've found that I like being an aunt. I get to be the fun adult for the first time in my life."
"Isn't it great! That's how I feel with baby Neal"
"He's growing up quickly. I don't think he's going to appreciate being called 'baby' much longer."
"Yeah…I'm still getting use to it though."
They ate in easy silence for a while.
"How was seeing Robin?" Emma scrounges up the courage to ask.
We're so use to pushing each other and it's hard sometimes to talk about certain topics now when we're actively trying NOT to upset the other person.
"It was…how it always is." I explain. I know she understands that to mean it was slightly awkward but nice. "We're still finding our footing, but I think he's going to make a great friend some day."
"I'm glad." She sounds relieved. What would she have been worried about in the first place?
"Me too. Can't go around forever with you as my only friend." I tease.
"One, why would you need anyone else when you have me?" She says arrogantly. "Two, you know you have other friends." She says in a more serious tone.
"Like Dino?" I ask playfully.
"Exactly." She laughs and she rises to takes the empty dishes into the kitchen.
When we go to the kitchen I immediately go to the go to the stove and get the pot so that I can soak it in the sink.
I turn around and find Emma standing quite close and gazing at me with unfocused eyes.
"Emma?" I call out as I take the bowls from her hands to put them in the sink as well.
At the call of her name she seems to snap out of her daze.
"Are you sure you're feeling alright? You're a bit flushed."
"Yeah just warm I guess." She says without looking at me.
I frown.
I take a step toward her. I take her right hand in my left and press the fingers of my left hand to her forehead. My fingers are still warm from the hot water though so I can't make an accurate statement on whether or not she has a temperature.
Without thinking about it, I lean foreword and press my lips to her forehead. The moment I do, I realize how strange this is. I was simply acting on instinct. It's something I would do to check if Henry had a fever.
I am careful to put on a mask of indifference when I pull back. She has to believe that I think this was a totally normal procedure. I'm convinced that's the only way to save this situation. It works too. I can tell I have the perfect "Madam Mayor" mask (as Emma calls it.) on. I'm about to declare her healthy but then our eyes meet.
Suddenly our lips are attached. I have not idea who leaned in. More than likely we met in the middle. Drawn by some invisible force. The kiss itself isn't forceful though. At least not at first. At first it's tender, in a way that would make you think neither of us could believe it was happening. And I know at least I can't.
But once we realize it is happening, it goes from zero to sixty in seconds. The hand that was still resting on her shoulder when I kissed her forehead is now pulling her so that we are flush. Hands and arms are moving and I swear don't know when or how it happened but my back is now against something solid. I can't seem to find it in myself to care what that something is when her hands and moving beneath my shirt…
I bolt upright in bed. My heart is hammering in my chest at an alarming rate.
"It was just a dream. It was just a dream." I repeat the phrase a few times, to reassure myself.
Only it hadn't been just a dream. It had been a dream about EMMA. And I could NOT be having dreams of that nature about my friend! My BEST friend. My bffl…as ridiculous as that name is, it is assuredly not conducive with dream like THAT.
The dream was also uncomfortably close to reality. Emma HAD actually been sick this week. And I HAD brought over groceries for her only to find her laying on the couch. Where the memory ends and the dream took over is only after I kiss her forehead. In actuality, when our eyes lock we both turned away and hurriedly resumed cleaning the kitchen.
I hug my elbows in my knees and place my head in my hands. I'm a little shocked when I feel wetness on my cheeks. Unbeknownst to me, a few tears had escaped during my heightened emotional state. I furiously rub the residue away, yet I can still feel my eyes becoming misty.
I need to regain control of my body.
What I really need is sleep. But after what happened, I can't tell if I'm mad that I woke up in the first place or scared to go to sleep again now. Perhaps it's both.
It doesn't mean anything, right? People have crazy dreams all the time. I once had a dream where Daddy turned into a monkey and teased all our horses. I'm sure other people have had dreams of this nature about their friends. It's natural for your mind to unconsciously create a hypothetical situation in which you, and someone you spend a lot of time with, engage in sexual activities.
I definitely believe that.
However, I can't completely convince myself that it applies to my situation.
I'd believe it if this was the first time I had ever thought of Emma in that way. It's not. In my defense, those thoughts were mostly before the curse broke. And any sleep driven fantasy back then had certainly not been filled with caring moments.
It still doesn't have to mean anything though. I'm just panicking more than I normally would because I've continually been stressing over what that "flashback" last month meant. The only logical explanation I could come up with was that when I had originally touched the scroll it showed me a glimpse into my future...into my happy ending. The glimpse just had an additional purpose of helping me realize what I had to do at that time to save everyone.
But not all happy endings include romance. And you can find your friends attractive without any deeper meaning, right?
Right.
