A N. For my one and only reader. You asked when Emily would talk about herself. Ask and ye shall receive. More will be following as she opens up. Hope you approve.
Emily surveyed the garage full of boxes. Everyone that thought of her as fearless would be so surprised to find out what a closet coward she was. God, but it was hard to think of letting go but it was long past time. First things first... there's gotta be something to eat around here. The grocery store was definitely going
to be on the list for today. No more of those disgusting stale crackers!
After a shower and the sad discovery the only thing in the house to eat was the stale crackers, Emily headed off to the supermarket.
She returned home with the truck full of groceries, in fact she had went a little crazy. There would be a feast fit for a king for supper. It had been a long time since she had done anything in the kitchen but heat a microwave dinner and to be honest she was looking forward to it. After putting up the groceries she threw on some old clothes and waded into the boxes.
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Securing the use of the Rover for the day Ryan strolled around to the front of the house. As he approached the car he saw something laying in the grass. Getting closer he could easily identify it. He picked up the vodka bottle. Humm ... Marissa's brand and her truck was parked out here last night. He didn't think she had been drinking when he had seen her. Wonder where it came from? What difference did it make? Seth was right... there was just so much he could do. He carried the bottle to the trash can. Wiping the sweat before it could reach his eyes, he took his outer shirt off leaving only his wife beater. It was gonna be hot today.
Ryan pulled into Emily's drive and stopped short of the boxes and piles of unidentifiable stuff. Moving among all of it was Emily, sorting and grouping items, so engrossed in her work she didn't even look up. He turned of the engine and when he slammed the car door the spell was broken and she look at him. He walked toward her and for a second he couldn't tell if he had done well or made a giant blunder by coming here. Finally she smiled and she stepped around the boxes to join him.
Emily: What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be spending time with Marissa?
Ryan: Is it all right that I came by?
Now the ball was in her court. Ryan had no idea what would come out of her mouth.
Emily noticed he dodged the question about Marissa.. that was cool. The Ryan /Marissa coupling was not her concern. They could make it or break it on their own.
Emily: Yep it's ok that you're here but if you stay I'll put you to work.
Ryan crossed his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes.
Ryan: What's it pay?
A crafty look spread over Emily's face and a smile flirted with her lips.
Emily: How about fried chicken, mashed potatoes & gravy, hot buttered biscuits, & corn on the cob for starters.
Ryan looked surprised then.
Ryan: You can cook?
Emily: Is a 500-pound robin fat? In fact I am a damned good cook. Does that surprise you?
Ryan laughed.
Ryan: It shouldn't but it does. Where do I start?
Emily: This is trash and that stuff is going to the Good Will drop, plastic bags are over there. Those boxes need to go inside so I can organize them. Sure you wanna stay?
Ryan: Home cooking.. oh yeah.
With the two of them working the piles and boxes were soon conquered.
Emily: Wanna clean up? You can use Uncle Brad's room and I have some of Emmett's clothes that might fit you. He was taller but not much heavier than you. I'm gonna shower then start dinner.
Looking down at his clothes Ryan nodded.
Ryan: That would be great. I feel like Pig Pen.
Emily: Come on, I'll show you the way.
The clattering of pans greeted Ryan when he entered the kitchen. Emily was already there preparing to get to work. He came and stood beside her. Fresh from her shower, her hair smelling of lemon, her cheeks flushed it was all he could do to keep from pulling her into his arms. She seemed blithely unaware of her affect on him as she navigated the kitchen doing several things at once. Smiling sweetly she hefted a bag of potatoes and a knife and laid them on the counter in front of him.
Emily: Peel please .. more tea?
Ryan: Yeah, thanks.
Sitting beside him she started cleaning the corn. They worked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, listening to the sounds of cooking coming from the stove and feeling comfortably at ease.
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Marissa had decided to give Ryan some room. She and Summer picked up movies and junk food, then descended on Summer's house for a sleepover like they used to do when they were younger. She called Ryan's cell but still got no answer. Leaving a message she told him where she was and he could call if he wanted. She knew he wasn't with Seth because Summer had talked to Seth just before she called Ryan. Where could he be?
Summer: Come on Coop, lighten up. He is wherever he is and there is no point worrying about it. You, on the other hand, are in my esteemed company, we have junk food and chick flicks with hunky dudes.. Let's just enjoy.
Marissa: I know, Sum. I'm trying. Oh, hell who am I kidding. I'm angry because he wasn't waiting for my call. I figured he would be by the phone and instead I have left two messages today and not talked to him once. Do you think this is really the end of us? Tell me the truth...
Summer: I don't know Coop. He was really really hurt...angry too but I think he was hurt more. Maybe you should concentrate on getting better, then think about getting Ryan back.
Marissa was silent. When she spoke again, it was in a whisper.
Marissa: I don't know if I can do this, Summer. Not just because of Ryan. I am so afraid... I'm afraid I'll find out I'm worse than I thought... less than I felt I was... Emily asked me if I liked the way I am.
She looked away as tears fell down her cheeks. Her voice grew hard and full of anger.
Marissa: I hate the way I am... I hate myself!
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Dinner done and the dishes in the dishwasher, Ryan and Emily adjourned to the living room and the boxes.
Emily began sorting and searching as Ryan watched.
He saw a stack of pictures lying by a box. Bending he picked up a copy of the same one he had seen in the house the first time he had been here. A man, woman, a boy he assumed was her brother and Emily.
Ryan: You don't take after your parents much.
Turning to see what Ryan was talking about she saw the picture in his hand. She knew what picture he was holding. Leaving her task she went to another box and lifted out some other pictures. Sorting through them she chose one and approached Ryan, holding this new picture out for Ryan to take.
Emily: Actually, this is my father. Robert Tate adopted us when he married my mother.
Ryan studied the photograph. Here he could see family resemblance. Emily's green eyes looked back at him from her father's face. He was a tall well-muscled man as were the men he stood with. They were all wearing uniforms and were surrounded by sandbags. Ryan looked questioningly at Emily. He really wanted to ask her about her life but didn't want to push.
Emily met his eyes, smiled and seemed to come to a decision.
Emily: That picture was taken in Vietnam sometime in 73. He did almost three tours and was there for the fall of Saigon.
Ryan still holding the picture sat down hoping she would continue. She sat down beside him on the couch.
Emily: I was always a Daddy's girl. Emmett was closer to Mom. Dad was gone a lot. After Nam there was uncounted trips into dirty little third world countries , most of it before I was born and at the least before I could understand what was going on. He just couldn't get enough... Beirut.. Panama.. Desert Storm. He was GI Joe incarnate. I guess Mom finally got enough and told him if he wanted his family he would I have stay in the states. So he did. He was never happy... he transferred time and again. We moved so much Emmett and I gave up making friends, there was no use. Mom hated living on base.. hated the "canned houses" so we unusually lived off base.
Ryan listened with wrapped attention, watching her face as she talked. Her eyes were looking far away at things he couldn't see and her mind was walking backward in time.
A soft chuckle came from her lips.
Emily: We lived in this one place for a while.. god was it bad.. there was a little man down the road that got drunk 2 or 3 times a week and drove his tiller up and own the road in the wee hours of the morning. People would call the cops but by the time they showed up he and his tiller were all tucked away.
Mom was trying to talk Dad into retiring. He had been in since he was 17, the Corp was all he knew. I was 11 years old when I came home from school one day and found my Daddy with his brains splattered all over the living room wall.
Silently tears fell down her face. She looked into Ryan's face.
Emily: On the coffee table in front of him was a note that read "Please don't hate me Emily. I'm sorry."
They were both silent for a time. Ryan because he had no notion of what he could say to her. Emily was still lost in time with her thoughts.
Emily: I blamed my mother for a long time. In fact I hated her. I didn't know about the dreams, mental anguish that had become a part of his life. I didn't understand then what Delayed Stress Syndrome was.
Emily faced Ryan.
Emily: Got more than you bargained for didn't ya?
Ryan: I wish I knew what to say...
Emily: You don't need to say anything. I just wanted you to know.
He held her in his arms until sleep claimed them both.