CHAPTER 42
Setting the heating pad back down, I wondered where Emma could be. The most logical place to check would be the first floor bathroom, so I hurried down the hall...
...but she wasn't there.
As I walked back into the living room, deciding where to look next...
...the cement mixer fiiiiiinally stopped again...
...and then, I thought I heard something else.
However, thanks to the loud grinding sound still echoing still in my ears, I wasn't sure, so I walked over to the foot of the staircase, where it seemed to be coming from, and listened intently...
...and then, I definitely heard it: the sound of water running.
But why is it so loud?
There was only one way to find out, so I crept quietly up the stairs.
As I approached the bathroom I saw, much to my surprise, that its door was wide open and the light from inside was spilling out into the hall.
And then, as I stopped at the doorway and looked in...
...my eyes were graced with one of the most rapturous sights they've ever beheld: Emma, standing in the middle of the bathroom, with her back to me...
...completely naked...
...I repeat, Completely Naked...
...and stepping out of her underpants!
Before she could pick them up from the floor...
...Mom, who had just turned off the bathtub faucet, plunged a hand far down into the water and said, "Emma, come over here and let me know if the temperature is okay."
As Emma approached the tub, Mom added, "I don't want to burn you, but in this case, hotter is better."
I stared in surprise at the heaping mountains of suds. Mom must have used an entire jar of bubble bath!
Emma walked over to the tub and bent down (giving me an even better view of her cute, little pink butt) and checked the water; then she told Mom, "It's fine."
And then, Emma turned toward Mom (thanks for the side view!)...
...who reached down and took hold of both of Emma's hands then said to her, "Now, be very careful getting in...because I don't want you to slip and fall."
I rolled my eyes, thinking, 'Mom, Emma's a big girl; she can get into the tub without that much assistance!'
Anyway, Emma got in...
...but just as she was about to sit down, she happened to look over toward the doorway...
...and when she saw me standing there, she gasped...
...and immediately sank down into the bubbles, all the way up to her chin.
Confused, Mom looked over this way, too...
...and her eyes met mine...
...and while feeling my face turn bright red, I said, "Uh, good...morning?"
And then, I braced myself to be told off and called a lurker, or a pervert (or worse)...
...but instead, Mom just nodded in my direction and then turned back to Emma.
?
The ambiguity of her response left me wondering if:
A) she was merely acknowledging/returning my sentiment
or
B) she was letting me know that it's okay for me to be here right now.
I wavered between the two, but in the end decided that the risk of Mom yelling at me, in exchange for a chance to be in the same room as a Very Naked Emma, is a trade-off I'm more than willing to make!
And so, I took a deep breath and walked in.
Not all the way in, because hovering directly over Emma seemed a bit much. Instead, I stopped in the middle of the room and looked over at her.
While she didn't appear to be in as much agony as last night, it was easy to see she still felt awful.
Emma looked up at Mom, saying, "I love this bathtub. I've never been in one before that's so deep...and so wide...and so long!"
Mom smiled down at her. "Now, stretch out and then just lie there and try to relax. I'll be back to check on you in a little while; but right now I'm going to wash your clothes."
As she said this, Emma gasped...
...and reached down toward the floor...
...saying, "I'm sorry! I almost forgot my-"
"It's all right; I'll take care of that for you, Mom said, as she picked up Emma's briefs from the floor.
When she pulled the used pad out of them, I didn't see the front of it, but Mom did...
...and while she didn't say anything, I clearly saw the look of concern on her face.
A minute later, she collected the rest of Emma's clothes and walked out...
...leaving the door wide open!
?
That was unprecedented...I mean, this is a woman who closes the door behind her even when she's only washing her hands!
So, why is she leaving it open now?
This didn't seem to be the time to solve riddles, so I hurried down the hall after her, and then followed her downstairs.
Handing everything off to me, Mom said, "Put these in the washer, on the rapid cycle."
With a nod, I headed down to the basement.
Once the clothes were loaded and the washer was turned on, I leaned against the dryer, deep in thought.
'Since Mom didn't mind me being in the bathroom with Emma, maybe now I can go back up there and-no! No way!' I thought to myself, realizing that the only reason I had been allowed in there is because Mom was there to "chaperon." Besides, she told Emma to relax, which wouldn't be possible if I was in there with her, yakking away.
But as disappointing as this was, I then remembered that Mom told Emma she'd check on her later...
...so, I plan to tail her when she does, because I intend to be in there, too! And not wanting to miss this chance, I decided to stay very close to Mom!
And so, I hurried upstairs then went into the kitchen and asked, "Can I help you with anything?"
She pulled a number of plates, glasses, etc. from the cabinets and drawers, then told me, "Yes, you can. Go set the table."
I did this as quickly as possible, then returned to the kitchen and asked, "What else can I do?"
Instead of answering immediately, Mom looked down at the floor, which she always does when debating something in her mind...
...and then, after what seemed an eternity, she made her decision...
...and opened one of the kitchen cabinets...
...and pulled out three huge white mugs...
...and I gasped...
...because we only ever use those for two things:
1. Soup...which we never have for breakfast
or
2. Hot Chocolate!
I couldn't believe it. In this house, hot chocolate for breakfast is strictly a once-per-year Christmas Morning treat!
Then again, I guess Mom is making an exception here for Emma's sake because she understands one of science's most important mathematical equations:
Girl + period - chocolate = insanity.
As I continued to stare, slack jawed, at the three huge mugs, Mom handed me an oversize brick of semi-sweet chocolate...
...and I cursed under my breath...
...because I should have been watching more closely, to see where she got it from!
That woman keeps a secret stash of chocolate somewhere in this kitchen, but despite my many attempts, I've never been able to find it.
I mean, I haven't gone so far as to demolish the room all the way down to the studs (yet)...
...but some day, God as my witness, I'm going to figure out where she hides it!
Mom said to me, "All right; break this up into small pieces and divide them evenly between the mugs...and no cheating!"
(This meant no eating any while her back is turned.)
Just as I'd finished the project and was washing my hands, I heard a loud ding from the basement. Heading down there, I put Emma's clothes into the dryer.
Once back in the kitchen, I asked Mom, "Did Emma mention if she got any sleep?"
Mom said, "Yes, about four hours, but then she woke up achy all over. Hopefully, lying in a hot bathtub will help with that. She told me she can stay for awhile longer this morning, but has to leave at exactly 12 noon."
A minute later, she opened the fridge, and then one of the kitchen drawers, and then headed upstairs...
...with me right behind her!
Walking over to the tub, she asked Emma, "Would you like more hot water?"
"Yes, please."
After Mom had added it, she then asked, "Would you like more Addvil?"
Emma nodded. "Can I please have three?"
Mom hesitated, because the maximum recommended dose is two, but finally she relented.
When Emma reached for them, Mom shook her head, saying, "Wait, your hands are all soapy, so sit up and then open the hatch."
As Emma sat up (giving me a much-appreciated view of her entire chest), Mom shook three Addvil into the bottle cap, then tipped them into Emma's mouth.
Next she held the apple juice bottle for her while she drank.
'Jeez, Mom, she's not an infant,' I thought...
...but then, I realized that glass + soapy hands = broken shards, so I decided to cut her a little slack on this one.
After Emma finished drinking, Mom tossed the empty bottle into the wastebasket and said, "I'll be back in a little while."
I walked out of the bathroom, with Mom behind me...
...and again, she left the door wide open.
?
Back in the kitchen, I sat watching as Mom cut up a mirepoix of carrots, onions, and celery. She loaded these into the crock pot, then topped it with a raw, whole chicken.
She added some seasoning, then put the lid on, and set the timer so everything would be ready for dinner at 6.
After washing her hands, she headed downstairs and soon returned with Emma's laundry.
"Alyssa, go get Emma's backpack from the living room."
I did, and we brought everything up to the bathroom.
"Your clothes are ready," Mom said, setting them down on the vanity.
"And here's your backpack," I told her, setting it down beside them...
...but a moment later, it tipped over sideways...
...and then forward...
...and since, last night, she'd left it unzipped...
...eight or nine of her huge pads tumbled out onto the floor.
Emma turned beet red.
"S-sorry!" I gasped, kneeling down to pick them up.
Mom bent down to help me, and when I saw the look on her face, I realized that both of us were thinking the same thought: 'Oh, God, does she really need this many?'
Since Mom looked so concerned (again), I mentally added this to my list of important things I need to think about later.
Mom walked over to the tub, then looked down at Emma and said, "All right, young lady, let's see those hands."
Emma immediately held them out, palms up. Mom took them in her own, then leaned over and studied them closely...
...then nodded approvingly. "All right; your fingers are sufficiently shriveled, so now, it's time for you to wash up and-"
She paused for a moment, then asked, "Would you like me to wash your back for you?"
Emma nodded.
"Okay; sit up for me," Mom directed.
Emma sat up and wrapped both arms around her shins, resting her chin on her knees.
Mom knelt down next to the tub, then reached for the soap and washcloth...
...and less than a minute later, she had this really dumb, sentimental look on her face. "You know, I've missed this. The last time I did it was way back when Alyssa was...four?" she asked, looking over at me...
...and I blushed. Not wanting to hear her reminisce about making princess crowns out of suds (and a hundred other embarrassing stories), I merely nodded.
"This is wonderful; it feels so nice," Emma said with a sigh.
"Well then, while I'm here, would you like me to wash your hair, too?" Mom asked.
"Yes...please?"
Reaching up, Mom pulled down our flexible shower hose, then turned on the water and after getting Emma's hair wet, lathered her up with shampoo.
Then she picked up the wash cloth again and said, "Close your eyes."
Emma did and Mom carefully washed her face, including inside and behind her ears.
Next she rinsed Emma's hair and then applied conditioner.
"Here, I'll leave rest to you," Mom said, holding out the bar of soap...
...but instead of taking it from her outstretched hand...
...Emma just sat there, looking down at it...
...silent...
...not moving...
...and after only a few seconds, Mom and I both knew what that meant: Emma still felt awful...
...and just wanted Mom to keep taking care of her, but was too shy/scared to ask.
The silence stretched on...
...until, finally, Mom smiled and said, "Hold out your arm."
Since we were going to be in here for a little while, I put down the toilet seat lid and perched on top of it.
To you, the reader, it may seem creepy or even bizarre for me to sit there, looking as my mother bathes my girlfriend, but it wasn't like that at all.
It was lovely to watch.
Instead of doing it briskly, like a doctor or nurse taking care of a patient...
...Mom was so gentle with her...
...and smiled at her so kindly...
...and as I watched the way she took Emma's left hand between both of her own and washed it, that confirmed what I'd been so desperately hoping: although she's probably still a long way from actually admitting it, Mom really does care about her.
Eventually I do want the two of them to have a warm, loving relationship; and even though that's going to take awhile, still, it's happening more quickly than I'd ever imagined it could. In only a few weeks' time, Mom has gone from seeing Emma as a huge pain in ass to actually beginning to open her heart.
And nothing in this world could make me happier.
I have to admit I'm not sure why she's changed so suddenly; maybe due to their shared love of Maxfield Parrish and gourmet cooking? Well, whatever the reason, I'll be eternally grateful.
After washing Emma's chest and stomach, Mom soaped up the washcloth again.
"Emma, excuse my hand for a minute."
Emma nodded, then leaned all the way back in the tub and moved her knees apart.
She looked up at the ceiling...
...and then closed her eyes...
...and even though I knew what was happening, this time I didn't peek.
It didn't seem like that would be very...polite.
A minute later Emma opened her eyes again...
...and I watched as Mom worked her way down Emma's left leg...
...but as she started to wash her foot, the loudest high-pitched squeal I've ever heard ricocheted off the bathroom walls and ceiling.
Mom looked down at her apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't know you're ticklish. I promise, I'll be more careful."
Ten minutes later, Mom finished.
She got up and then, hands on hips, looked down at Emma, surveying her "handiwork"...
...and said, in a very business-like manner, "All right, Missy, you're clean from head to toe. Now, rinse off - and don't forget to rinse out the conditioner - and then get dressed."
She opened the vanity's top drawer and reached inside. "Here's a new toothbrush on the sink, and Alyssa's hairbrush is the blue one. We'll have breakfast when you come downstairs.
She went back over to the tub and said, "I'm going to let the water out now."
As the two of us walked out of the bathroom, there was a loud sploosh, and I knew it was from Emma standing up.
Mom heard it, too, and reaching behind herself, she finally closed the door...
...and suddenly, I understood why she had been leaving it open: up until the age of seven, I'd always taken baths, and Mom had always left the door open (presumably to rescue me if I was drowning). Once I started taking showers, she began closing the door.
And now that Emma is standing up in the shower, instead of lying in the tub...
Well, I guess old habits die hard!
Twenty minutes later, Emma showed up at the dining room table, fully dressed and with her damp hair brushed straight back.
Ten minutes later, the three of us were having hot chocolate, orange juice, croissants, and scrambled eggs.
I wasn't sure if Emma felt like talking, so I decided to be quiet and let her take the lead.
She didn't say anything at all, but since I'm so used to having silent meals with Mom, I didn't mind.
Once we'd finished, Mom disappeared into the kitchen for a minute, then walked back in carrying two tall glass dessert dishes, and when I saw what was inside them...
...I swear my lower jaw slammed into the tabletop.
Chocolate mousse?!
For breakfast?!
"Against my better judgment," Mom began...
...while glaring at me...
She was silent for a moment, then turned to Emma and continued, "...I did promise you dessert last night, so you're not allowed to leave this house until I've kept my word."
Noticing that there were only two glasses, I asked Mom, "Where's yours?"
"I'll have mine later," she replied. "Right now, I have to...do something else."
When I saw her look over at the TV set, I was curious and asked, "What's on?"
Mom answered, "Something so punishing that I'd only inflict it on you if you've been a very, very bad girl. It's live coverage of today's city council meeting. I won't bore you with a million details so, to make a long story short, Edgewater's Sixth Ward contains both businesses and homes, so there's a big debate on whether it should be zoned business or residential. The outcome is going to impact several projects we have going on at the agency, so I have to spend the next two or three hours watching the proceedings."
She paused for a moment, then continued, "Don't forget, Emma has to leave exactly at 12 noon, so no foot dragging - from either of you! Now, if you'll excuse me..."
Mom went into the living room and got a notebook and pen from the living room desk. After setting them on the coffee table, she sat down on the couch and reached for the remote.
Seconds later, I heard what must be the world's most boring male voice, droning on and on about eminent domain (whatever that is).
As soon as the mousse disappeared (which didn't take long at all), Emma got up from her chair and, without asking, started to clear the table.
Once her hands were full, I collected the remaining dishes then followed her into the kitchen.
After stacking everything in the sink, then filling it with hot water and soap, we walked back out.
Emma immediately headed over toward the living room and looked at the mantel clock.
11:51 a.m.
Then, she looked over to the couch, where Mom sat listening intently to some guy going on and on about air rights (whatever they are).
Then, Emma looked over to the clock again...
..and then, over back toward the couch...
...and it was easy to read her mind: she didn't want to interrupt Mom, but she also couldn't just leave without saying anything.
Less than a minute later, she settled on a compromise.
Walking over to that end of the couch, Emma sat down right next to Mom.
She hesitated for a moment, but then reached over to Mom's lap...
...and took her hand.
Mom who was still listening with rapt attention to Mr. Air Rights, smiled and gave her hand a squeeze.
Encouraged by this, Emma leaned over and rested her head on Mom's shoulder.
A few minutes later, Air Rights guy's time ran out, and while the next speaker was being introduced and setting up his easel full of diagrams, Emma who also looking at the screen (but I doubt actually watching) said to Mom, "Thank you for taking care of me."
"It was my pleasure. I'm just glad you're feeling better?"
Since she phrased it as a question, Emma nodded...
...then she sat back up and turned to Mom, adding, "The Addvil actually kicked in this time; so between that and the hot bath and...and especially the chocolate...!"
Mom laughed, then said, "I'm so glad."
At that moment, the mantel clock chimed 12.
Mom looked over at it and then back at Emma, saying, "Well, I'm not letting you leave here late. I guess the next time I'll see you will be...at the prom on Saturday evening...and I'm really looking forward to that."
Letting go of Emma's hand, Mom reached up and moved her face closer, and then kissed her cheek, saying, "Take care."
Over at the front door, I handed Emma her backpack.
At that point, I didn't care that Mom might be watching us via the reflection in the top bar of the TV...
...and so, even though I was still nervous, I kissed Emma right on the mouth (politely, of course).
She hugged me hard, saying, "I'll see you tomorrow at school."
And then, she was gone...
...and without her, the house somehow felt kind of...empty.
That made me sad and so, in an attempt to distract myself, I wandered over to the living room and sat on the other end of the couch, trying to follow along with the city council meeting.
At the end of fifteen minutes, I'd learned one very important lesson: politics are boring as hell!
And Mom has to endure at least two more hours of this?!
Right after elections, I often hear grownups complain about "low voter turnout." Well, maybe more people would show up if they could find a way to make this crap more entertaining!
Maybe by deciding things via a karaoke sing-off?
Or maybe with pie eating (or throwing) contests?
At this point, Mom was taking copious notes while some new guy described tax parcel property lines and boundaries on something called a plat map (whatever that is).
Not a moment too soon, his time ran out!
Fortunately, the next scheduled speaker wasn't there yet, and wouldn't arrive for at least an hour, so the lady running the meeting called a 90 minute recess.
Then the program quickly changed to one called Town Talk, a local point/counterpoint show. Today's riveting episode focused on how to fund Cumberland County's much-needed road repairs.
'Jeez, this crap is even worse than the city council meeting!' I thought as I slumped even further down on the couch, chin on chest and bored out of my mind.
A minute or two later, Mom asked, "Are you watching this?"
I shook my head.
She turned it off and then got up and walked into the kitchen...
...leaving me alone with my thoughts.
A few minutes later, I tiptoed into the kitchen, stopping just inside the door and looking across the room to where Mom stood at the sink.
She hadn't heard me come in, so I leaned back against the edge of the counter, watching her and thinking about everything she just did for Emma...
...and how much it meant to me...
...so much that I wanted to say something...
...but how could I possibly put into words how I felt about last night and this morning?
Finally, I realized there are no words...
...and so, I crossed the kitchen slowly and walked up behind her...
...and then, moving as close to her as I could, I wrapped my arms around her waist and rested my forehead against her back.
Mom stopped washing dishes...
...and the two of us stood like that for a very long time, in complete silence, until finally...
...she said, "You're welcome, Alyssa."
