I look at Mary Margret as Emma walks out of my bedroom. "Yes and no?" I question. One of my arched brows raises as she sighs.
"She's not my biological daughter. I can't have children so David and I, adopted Emma when she was thirteen. She's gone through many, many foster homes since she was younger. Not many of them were nice. Then David and I found her, we loved her immediately, and adopted her after three months. I'm only ten years older than her, but I love her like I gave birth to her." she explains.
I bite my lower lip, trying to take this all in. Nodding once I stand up and slide my silk robe on, hastily tying it. Then looking at my oldest friend I meet her green eyes. "Follow me." I tell her.
Leading her out of the room I show her one of the guest bedrooms. "You and Emma can stay here as long as you need. My students may call me the 'Evil Queen'-" I break off with a smile as she chuckles. "But I'm not mean. You know that. So, MM if you need anything, anything at all-please tell me." I tell her.
She nods, with a smile. I smile back and open up my arms. She walks into them and hugs me. "Grasias, Regina." she whispers. I pull away and smile, glad that she remembered what I taught her in high school.
"De Nada, Mary Margret." I reply. She walks over to the bed and kicks her shoes off, setting them under the bed. I watch as she climbs into the bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin. As soon as her head hits the pillow, she's out like a light.
I leave the room, shutting the door quietly behind me. I walk downstairs and the only sound heard is my bare feet padding against the tile floor.
As I walk into the kitchen, I see a figure hunched over, shaking.
I sit down on the cool tile next to the sobbing girl and pull her to my chest. Her thin arms wrap around my waist, tugging herself closer to me. I keep one arm around her shoulder and with my other hand, I run my fingers through her blonde hair. My mother used to do this when I cried, it always helped.
Emma hugs my waist tightly, as if she's afraid I'm going to leave her. "Me voy a quedar aqui, Emma." I whisper in Spanish. She doesn't know what it means, but it doesn't matter.
She pulls away and looks at me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." she whispers. Tears are streaming down her face. My brows pull down, a small frown forming on my face.
"For what, dear?" I ask, wiping her tears with my thumbs. She sobs, her green eyes filled with tears.
"For dragging you into my life." she whispers. I smile softly at her as she looks down. Using my pointer finger and thumb, I grab her chin gently, and lift her face. She has no choice but to look at me.
"Emma, dear, I chose to walk into your life. You didn't drag me. Besides your mom and I grew up together. We were best friends growing up." I tell her.
All of a sudden a low rumble is heard and Emma blushes. "Hungry?" I ask, my voice soft. She nods sheepishly. Standing up, I pull her up and hand her one of the apples from my fruit bowl.
She looks at me dubiously and I motion for her to eat it. She takes a bite and as juice dribbles down her chin, her eyes close. A low moan emits from the base of her throat.
Emma chews and swallows the bite before opening her eyes and looking at me. "That's the best apple I've ever eaten." she tells me. I smirk.
"Me alegra que pienses asÃ, Emma. Esas manzanas son de cosecha propia." I reply. She gives me a dumbfounded look.
I sigh. "I said, 'I'm glad you think so, Emma. These apples are homegrown.'" I tell her.
She smiles at me her green eyes sparkling.
