Guest Don't worry, Nick will come around.
Guest lol. Thank you.
Chapter 43
Emily stifled a yawn, and resisted the urge to let her eyes fall shut, even as she shifted restlessly in the uncomfortable, molded plastic chair, her leg bouncing continuously over her knee. Sleep had been elusive last night, the night before her father returned home from overseas. She had lain away for hours, mentally tracking the progress of his plane on imaginary map in her head, tossing and turning, before finally giving up all pretenses of sleep before sitting up in bed and reaching for her phone, passing the hours looking at photos, re-listening to old messages, and scrolling through endless pages of her Facebook feed. It was only as the early light of dawn lit up the sky that she finally drifted off into a shallow slumber.
It was a good thing her mother had let her take off school for the day, because she would have been useless, her head feeling cottony, her eyes gritty and stinging. From the way her mom clutched at her third coffee in as many hours, Emily had a feeling she felt the same way.
They had arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare before her father's plane was due to land. The drive into the city made in relative silence, both of them staring sleepily out the window, bodies humming in exhausted anticipation. Now, they sat on uncomfortable chairs, watching the arrivals board with hawk eyes, waiting for the status of the flight to change.
Around them, the crowds ebbed and flowed with the debarking of one plane after another, a think trickle of passengers making their way off the gangway into the building, some striding solo, others in twos and threes, with the occasional larger group or family. There was laughter and chatter as they greeted those waiting for them, and retrieved their bags, and then the room grew quiet again as they left the airport.
Until, finally it was Emily and Pam's turn to take part in the ritual. The little green digital letters on the board flipping from "on time" to "arrived." They both jumped to their feet, and made their way closer to where the passenger would exit, even though there would still be several minutes before the passengers would start trickling out.
The time seemed to pass excruciatingly slow. Emily felt each second tick pass as her pulse pounded loudly in her ears. Fatigue replaced by excitement. Slowly, the door to the gangway opened, and even though Emily had been through the drill enough times to know that it would assorted flight crew, then first class passengers coming off first, she still half expected her father to come striding out the door.
Her mom grabbed her hand, squeezing it hard enough to make Emily wince, though she didn't even try to pull away. Her eyes scanned each face before dismissing it and moving onto the next. The action quickly becoming reflexive, so that she almost missed the moment her father did step off the plane. She did a double take, excitement bubbling in her chest. His eyes fell on them at the same moment, a broad grin taking over his features. His stride lengthened, bringing him closer to them, faster.
He stretched his arms out when he was a step away, and they both rushed into them, wrapping their arms around his waist, and burying their faces in his neck. He curled his arms around their backs, holding them tightly.
Emily breathed in the scent of him. Freshly laundered fatigues, old spice and the faintest whiff of cigars and gunpowder invaded her nostrils, and instantly, even if only for a moment, she was six years old again, sitting on her father lap, safe in his arm from anything the world might throw at her.
Hot tears tracked down her cheeks, and she tightened her grip. His tightened as well.
"My girls," he whispered, and Emily felt a kiss pressed to her head.
Slowly, she loosened her grip, raising her head to smile up at him, finding him beaming down at her, eyes shining with moisture.
"Hey, Emmy," he said softly.
"Daddy." She choked on the word, and then rested her head against his broad chest, closing her eyes and soaking up the feel of his arm around her waist, and his heartbeat beneath her ear, slow and steady.
Around them, the crowd had thinned, the other passengers, and those greeting them, had drifted over to the baggage claim. Emily spotted her dad's camo duffle bag going around on the carousel, but he made no move to release them and retrieve it. He had no more interest in releasing them, then they had on him.
She could see her mother's shoulder shaking lightly, as she cried silently into his shoulder. One of the few things that could make her mother visibly upset, and loose her cool in public was her father's departure, or arrival.
It was hard enough for Emily, having her father gone. She couldn't imagine what it would be like if it were her spouse. She had a flash of Paige, in a set of army fatigues, dog tags hanging around her neck, flashing a grin as she slung a duffel over her shoulder, and her heart clenched painfully in her chest, a panic like she had never felt before washing over her. Though, even that, she knew, paled in comparison to the real thing.
She raised herself up onto her toes, and pressed a kiss to her father's cheek, then gently extracted herself from his grasp to retrieve his bag, giving her parents a moment alone.
When she returned, her mother had shifted within the circle of his arms, leaning against his side as she wiped at her eyes.
"What do you say we get out of here?" She offered Emily a watery smile, and Emily was quick to nod her agreement. As eager as she had been to get to the airport, she was even more eager to leave it, lest some twist of fate put her father on another plane, heading away from them.
Her father reached for his bag, but she slung it over her shoulder, and stepped under his outstretched arm instead, tucking herself into his side. The three of them made their way outside, and across the parking lot to the car in relative silence. When they reached it, Emily tossed her father's bag in the trunk, and skirted around her mother's reaching grip to grab the handle of the driver's side door.
"I'll drive," she said, giving a nod to the backseat. Her mom shot her a grateful smile before climbing in. Catching the hint her father slid in on the other side.
She did her best not to look in the review mirror, in an effort to give them as much privacy as she could, considering. Not that she thought they were going to do anything, because, ew, but it had been over a year since they'd seen each other in person. Eighteen months, exactly, of emails and the occasional Skype conversation. They should have at least a few minutes alone together, upon their reunion.
The ride was quiet as Emily worked her way through the heavy traffic around the airport, and clogging the city streets, but livened up as they hit the highway heading back towards Rosewood. They caught her dad up on all the goings on in town, telling him stories of things that had happened at school, or work, and he kept them laughing with funny tales from the base. Emily knew that he faced dark, heavy things over there, but he never brought it home with him. He refused to talk about it. At least with Emily. She imagined he shared a little more with her mother, but knowing him, probably not much. He had a few buddies that he served with, who lived nearby, and caught up with them when he could, while he was home. She hoped that he talked with them, about anything that he might need to get off his chest. Not that he appeared like there was anything troubling him as he lounged in the backseat of the car, his arm around Pam, who leaned into his side, both of them laughing, and chatting happily.
The moment felt unreal to Emily, like she might wake from it at any moment, and she routinely dug her nails into her own palm, the sting of pain reassuring her that she was, in fact, awake, and she wasn't going to wake up in her own bed to find this was all a pleasant dream.
As she exited off the highway, towards town, her father leaned forward in his seat and tapped her on the shoulder.
"What do you say we stop and pick up some lunch?" He gestured to a greasy-spoon diner on the outskirts of town. Though a bit run down, and off the beaten path, it was a popular spot for locals and tourists alike. When Emily was a kid, nearly every trip out of Rosewood, even if it was to the next town over, ended with a stopover at this place, for a meal, or a plate of fries, or a milkshake. It had been a few years since she'd last been here, but just seeing the sign and her mouth was watering for one of their burgers, with its "special sauce" which she had long since determined was just mayonnaise and ketchup mixed together.
"Wayne, really?" Her mom sat forward in her seat as well, rolling her eyes. "I have a nice lunch planned for us when we get home."
"I know you do, hun. But, do you really want to spend the next hour or so slaving away in the kitchen, when we could have something ready for us in ten, fifteen minutes tops? On today of all days?" He was playing to her weakness, and he knew it. But, the grin on his face was unabashed, as he quirked an eyebrow at her, waiting.
She knew she was had, but wasn't about to admit it. Huffing, she crossed her arms and sat back. "Do whatever you want," she said, as Emily and Wayne both unbuckled and reached for their door handles. "But, make you sure get a side of onion rings. And, the beer batter fries."
"Of course." He gave her a grin, and a kiss on the cheek, before climbing out of the car, and falling into step with Emily as they crossed the lot.
"Just like old times, huh, kiddo?" He slung his arm around her shoulder as they mounted the rickety wooden steps. "It's weird, the things you miss when you're gone," he mused, as he pulled the door open and ushered her through. "Like there was the one time, middle of the desert, on patrol through the ruins of an abandoned town, and all I could think was, I really wanted a peanut butter and jelly sandwich."
Emily laughed at the slightly unexpected craving. "You don't even like peanut butter and jelly."
"I know. That's the weird part."
They reached the counter, falling into line behind a couple with three young kids, each of them clamouring for a milkshake, fries, no, onion rings, no fries, the litany going on and on as the parents tried to place an order. Emily and Wayne exchanged a glance, this was going to take a while Not that Emily minded. For all she was concerned, they had all the time in the world.
Not entirely true, her father could be called back to active duty, or sent anywhere else in the world at any given time. But, at the moment he was here, freshly home, and she embraced the illusion of time stretching out before them unimpeded.
"I think I would miss peanut butter and chocolate the most," Emily mused. She had a sweet tooth for the combination. "Or, maybe Doritos."
"Not licorice?" He teased, and Emily scowled at him, her stomach souring just at the thought. It used to be a favorite treat of hers, until Halloween when she was eight or so, and she'd eaten so many of the little black licorice candies that she had gotten sick. To this day, she still could not eat it. Just the scene of it made her gag.
"Maybe Mom's cooking," she amended. "Especially her Chicken Adobo."
"She told you that story, huh?" He chuckled, shaking his head slightly at the memory. "It's the first thing your mother ever made for me, and the only thing I've ever had to force down. But, at the time, I was terrified it meant I was in for a lifetime of terrible meals."
Emily laughed at the thought of her father forcing himself to eat the meal, and compliment her mother on it, all the while wondering how he was going to survive saddled to a horrible cook.
"You lucked out in that regard, didn't you." She bumped his shoulder.
"Don't I know it. I loved your mother so much already, it was too late to back out. But, I was planning late night McDonald's runs and figuring out the best places to stash snack foods all the while."
"Bet the next meal she cooked you was a real surprise then."
"One of the best nights of my life," he admitted, "was a couple weeks later when she invited me over for pot roast and mashed potatoes."
Emily laughed, and shook her head, but didn't get a chance to comment, as they were beckoned up to the counter. She leaned against its surface and let her father order, loving the way his voice, brusque and commanding, yet also soft-spoken and polite, sounded. He chatted jovially with the cashier as their order was rang up, and then the two of them stepped aside to the take out counter to wait.
Despite how busy the place was, it didn't take long for them to get their meals. Burgers, fries and onion rings packed up into a couple of brown paper bags, and a tray of soft drinks for them. They carried it all back to the car, where Pam was waiting for them, leaning against the back fender, face turned towards the sun.
"Bout time," she groused, plucking her drink from the tray and taking a long swallow. "Can we go home now?"
Sharing a smile, Emily and Wayne climbed into the car, and made their way quickly through town, and home.
The afternoon passed pleasantly, the three of them spread out around the living room, talking, chatting, laughing, and then finally settling in for a movie. These were Emily's favorite kinds of moments. Sure, she enjoyed when they went out and did something as a family. She had many fond memories of day trips to amusement parks, museums, historical sights and county fairs. They had done several road trips, and the occasional weekend away. Those were all fun, and good, but there was something extra special about the time spent at home, when all of them were present.
By the time the movie was over, the room was growing dusky, as the sun slipped lower on the horizon, and lunch was long past. Emily felt the faint pull of hunger, and began to think about dinner. She wondered if her Mom would insist on cooking, or if her dad would talk her into the convenience of take out, once again.
"So, when's this girlfriend of yours going to make an appearance?" Her father's question was not at all what she'd expected him to break the silence with.
Emily exchanged a puzzled glance with her mother. "Um…"
She was eager for Paige to meet her father, but the day of his homecoming had always been just for the three of them
"Isn't she normally here by now?"
He glanced at the clock on the mantle, which showed that it was well past five o'clock, the so called dinner hour, which Paige had been present for so much as of late, but Emily had not invited her for dinner tonight. Today was a family day. Which Paige had completely understood. She was looking forward to meeting Wayne at the party tomorrow.
"I didn't invite her today."
His brow furrowed. "Not on my account, I hope."
Again, Emily and her mother exchanged looks. It was on his account, but neither of them wanted to be the one to tell him that.
"I know you guys are glad that I'm home. Believe me, I am to. But, I don't want you to put your lives on hold for me, just because I'm back. I want you go about your routines."
He told them this every time they came back, and they did their best to heed his words, but it was hard, especially in those first few days, to allow themselves to want to do anything, or go anywhere outside of the house.
Emily shot a look to her mother, who nodded.
"Okay. I'll go grab my phone, and see if she can come over." She pushed herself to her feet, and headed for the stairs. Her phone was charging in her room. She grabbed it, and flopped onto her bed. As soon as she'd turned it on, it chimed, and buzzed in her hand, indicating she had missed texts and messages. She scrolled through the texts quickly, all of them from her friends, telling her they were glad her dad was home, and asking if they were having a good time. Deciding she would reply to them later, she opened her voicemail and found she had one from Paige. Even though she was about to call her, and would hear her voice in person, she tapped it open anyway, and held the phone to her ear.
"Hey, Em," came Paige's gentle rasp. "It's early, and you're probably on your way to airport. Or, maybe you just got there, and are waiting for your dad's plane to land. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I'm thinking about you. I hope you have a good day with your parents. I love you. Bye."
Emily replayed the message, smiling as she heard Paige tell her she loved her. The words burrowing deep into her chest and warming her, from the inside out. She hoped that she would never lose that feeling, whenever Paige said those words to her.
She hit speed dial, and returned the phone to her ear, hearing it ring once, twice, three times. A few more and she'd be transferred over to Paige's voice mail. She heard the click, as the phone started to switch her over, and then another click, as the call was answered.
"Hey, Em." Paige sounded breathless.
"Hi. What are you up to?"
"Just finished helping my mom with the dishes for the party tomorrow."
"Oh?" She tried to keep the concern out of her voice.
Paige chuckled softly. "Strictly in a handing her ingredients and packaging up the final product capacity, I swear."
"Whew. Had me worried there for a second." Emily played along.
"So, what's up? Are you having a good day with your parents?"
"Yeah, it's been great." She filled Paige in on everything that had happened so far.
"I'm glad. I'm happy for you, that he's home."
"Thanks. And, he can't wait to meet you."
"I can't wait to meet him either."
"No, I mean, he really can't wait until tomorrow. He wants to know if you can come over for dinner, tonight."
"Tonight?" Paige gulped audibly over the phone. "As in, right now?"
Emily couldn't help but laugh at her sudden onset of nerves. "I thought you were excited to meet him?"
"Of course I am, Em. But, he's your dad. And, he's in the army. He has guns."
"Oh my God, seriously?" She thought it hilarious when other people found her father intimidating. He was such a softie. "Paige, you've already met him, kind of. You talked with him on Skype, remember."
"Not the same." She could picture Paige shaking her head emphatically. "Think about how you felt, meeting my dad. Even though you already met him a few times, at meets."
"Not the same. For one thing, you already know my dad adores you."
Paige was silent, not having a comeback for that, though Emily knew she didn't believe her. And, no amount of talking would convince her. She was just going to have to see it for herself.
"Look, you don't have to come. If you don't want to, I understand. But, my dad specifically asked after you, because he knows you're here for dinner most night."
Paige was quiet again, and Emily gave her a moment to think about what had just been said.
"I'll be over soon," she said softly.
"Thank you. Don't be nervous." She felt the need to offer the words, even though she knew they would not be heeded. "I love you."
Paige's breath hitched. "I love you too," she whispered, and Emily could hear the smile in her voice. She hung up with an answering smile on her own face.
Still grinning, unable, or perhaps rather, unwilling to school her expression, she rolled off her bed and made her way downstairs. She wanted to be the one to answer the door when Paige arrived. She had a feeling the other girl would have a heart attack if her father were to answer, and she had to face him without Emily's hand in her own.
The living room was empty when she made it back down, her parents having relocated to the kitchen. She could hear the whir of the stove fan, and the clatter of dishes, and despite the uncomfortable clenching in her stomach, she was glad her mother had decided to cook rather than be talked into take out again. She dropped down onto the couch, and went through the messages on her phone, replying to texts, and checking her Facebook while she waited.
About ten minutes had passed when she heard the rumble of an engine right outside, and headlights swept across the living room wall. She was on her feet and halfway to the door when Paige's text announcing she was there came in.
She pulled open the door to a fidgety, ashen looking Paige. She offered Emily a tight smile, and a softly uttered "hey."
"Hey, yourself." Emily reached out and snagged Paige's hand, pulling her inside, and pressing a quick kiss against her lips. Paige remained stiff, not returning the kiss in the slightest, and Emily pulled back, biting back a laugh. She knew Paige was nervous, and it would do no good for her girlfriend to think she was mocking her for it, but she was just too adorable.
"Relax. There's nothing for you to be nervous about." She ran a soothing hand up and down Paige's arm, feeling how taut the muscles were beneath her touch. Realizing that there was nothing she could do to ease Paige's nerves she let her hand drop, and nodding towards the kitchen. Paige was just going to have to see for herself that there was absolutely nothing for her to be worried about. She preceded Paige into the kitchen, aware that her girlfriend was taking slow, shuffling steps. You would think she was being led to a firing squad, the way she was acting.
Her mom was at the stove, and her dad was leaning against the counter, the two of them chatting quietly, but both of them looked up when Emily, and then a moment later Paige, stepped into the room.
'Hey, Paige." Pam greeted her with a warm smile, then turned her attention back to the pots in front of her.
Wayne, however, pushed himself off the counter and rounded it to greet her properly. Emily heard Paige swallow hard, and take a deep breath, before sticking out her hand, for him to shake.
"Paige. It's nice to finally meet you, in person," he said, wrapping both of his hands around hers and giving them a firm shake.
"You too, Sir."
"Hey now, what did I tell you about that? It's Wayne."
Across the kitchen, Pam huffed, and shook her head. Emily bit back a smile, but said nothing.
"Of course." Paige nodded. "Wayne."
"Come. Sit." He released his grip on her hand, only to lay one hand on her shoulder, and prodded her gently over to the table. "I've heard a lot about you, from Emmy. But, I'd like to hear more, from you." He pulled her chair out for her, waiting for her to seat herself. Paige shifted awkwardly in place, glancing over at Emily, before dropping down into place. Wayne took the seat opposite her.
"So, Emmy tells me you're quite the athlete."
Paige's cheeks grew red, and she ducked her head as she nodded. "I play a number of sports, yes. Swimming, as you know. Along with field hockey. And I run track. I used to play soccer, and baseball as well. Emily told me that you used to swim as well? She says she got her love of the water from you."
Wayne's gaze shot to Emily, as if surprised that she would share that bit of information. As if it wasn't a vital part of why she loved the sport so much, and how she'd gotten into it in the first place.
"Yeah, I swam. And played baseball," he said, turning his gaze back to Paige.
Emily left them to their sports talk, and crossed the kitchen to where her mother stood. "Can I help with anything?" she asked, leaning against the counter beside her, and glancing back over her shoulder at Paige and her father, who were deep in conversation now, it would appear.
"You could set the table, if you'd like," Pam said. "There's not much left to do with dinner now, except wait for the pasta to boil.
"Oh?" She craned her neck forward to get a look into the pot.
Pam swatted her away. "Careful. The steam can burn. I'm making ravioli."
"Ooh. Yum." Pam's home-made ravioli was delicious. And spinach and cheese stuffed noodles had been teasing her from the freezer for weeks now. She backed away from the pot, and moved to the cupboard, pulling down plates, and then reaching for the utensils in the drawer. She stacked them all together, piled on napkins, and carried the armload over to the table.
Paige jumped to her feet as soon as she reached it, immediately, relieving Emily of her burden. Emily didn't even bother to protest, at this point, she knew it was useless. Instead, she listened with half an ear as Paige and her father talked batting techniques as she helped set the table. She had nothing to add to the conversation, so she left them to it, returning to the cupboards to retrieve cups, while Paige went to the fridge.
Wayne turned his head to watch Paige's movements, one eyebrow quirked, though he said nothing about it, and continued the conversation he was having with Paige without a hitch. Once the table was set, Pam brought the food over to the table, and Paige, already standing, held her chair out for her, before rounding the table to get Emily's as well. Again, Wayne took it all in without saying a word.
Their dinnertime conversation was light, and lively. They talked about school, swimming, and Pam's work, and Wayne's plans now that he was home. Even though it was the first time all of them had gotten together like this, it felt like they'd been doing it for years. It felt so easy, so natural.
Paige had clearly gotten over her nerves about meeting Wayne, because she was animated and easy going, quick with a laugh, a witty comment, a smile. Her transition probably eased by Wayne's low key, reassuring presence. He had no qualms about teasing, but he wasn't one for intimidation tactics. Despite his stature, and his career, he wasn't the parent that people had to worry about impressing. That was Pam, who went full on Mama Bear when it came to her daughter. Though, Paige had already made her efforts there. Pam adored her almost as much as Emily did. And Wayne was happy as long as his daughter was happy. And, Paige made Emily extremely happy.
Emily dropped her hand below the table, and reached out to give Paige's knee a squeeze. She was so proud of her girlfriend for rising to the occasion.
"Hey, hands where I can see them," Wayne chided, pointing his fork at Emily.
Paige blushed, and jerked her knee away from Emily's touch. Emily just laughed. His eyes narrowed, and slowly she pulled her hand out from beneath the table and raised both of them in an "I surrender" motion.
"Honestly, Wayne." Pam shook her head, and scowled at her husband, but a smile was playing across her lips as well. He chuckled, and winked at Paige from across the table. Despite the blush still coloring her cheeks, Paige shook her head at his antics, and laughed lightly. Her knee found Emily's beneath the table, bumping it gently.
They lingered over their plates long after their food was finished, talking and laughing. For the first time in almost two years, Emily's family was finally complete. Made only more so by Paige's presence at the table.
"Would anyone like some coffee?" Pam offered, in an attempt to draw the evening out even further. She rose, and Paige rose with her, reaching across the table to start stacking the plates to carry across the room to the dishwasher.
Wayne held up a hand to stop her, but Pam pushed his hand back down, and shook her head lightly when he glanced over at her curiously. As his gaze went back to watching Paige, Emily pushed herself to her feet as well, only to be waved off by her mother.
"Don't worry, honey. We got this." She put her hands on Emily's shoulders and gently guided her back down into her chair, giving her a kiss on the shoulder before helping Paige carry the dirty dishes across the room to the dishwasher.
Their voices got lower, Emily could hear their murmur, but not what they were saying. It occurred to her that it didn't even bother her that her mother and her girlfriend were having private conversations. She wasn't worried in the least at what might be being said between them. Whereas previously she might have been afraid that her mother was attempting to warn off any girl she might have been seeing, she knew that wasn't the case here.
"That's a good one you've got there," Wayne said quietly, nodding his head towards where Paige and Pam were conferring.
Emily nodded. She didn't need to be told that.
"How ever did you manage to land someone like that?" He smirked at her, and she reached out, smacking him on the shoulder.
"Daddy."
But, she knew he was right. She had lucked out with Paige. Whatever it was she saw in her, Emily hoped that she continued to see it for a long time.
"I mean, seriously. You're batting way out of your league."
"Aren't you supposed to be telling her that?" Emily nudged him again. "What kind of fatherly pep talk are you giving here?"
He chuckled, and captured her hand in his own, his large hand nearly engulfing hers, resulting in some impromptu wrestling at the table as she tried to pull away.
"Can't leave you two alone for a minute," Pam clucked, and shook her head as she and Paige returned with mugs of steaming, fragrant coffee. Immediately, the two of them separated, offering sheepish smiles of apology.
She rolled her eyes, clearly not convinced. "If I suggest we take this into the living room, can I trust that you won't break any furniture?"
"I make no promises," Wayne said, standing and wrapping his arm around her waist, guiding her towards the other room. Emily and Paige fell into step behind them, arriving in the living room just as they were settling in on the couch. Emily glanced around at the available seating, two armchairs on opposite ends of the room, and made her decision. She tugged Paige over to the closest chair and gestured her into it, then settled in on her lap.
"Em, you're parents-"
"Know we're together, and can handle seeing us act like a couple. Within reason," she amended, at Paige's raised eyebrow, and knowing smirk.
Her parents didn't want to catch them making out, or anything like that. Not that she could blame them. As much as she admired her parent's relationship, and wanted that for herself one day, it's not like she wanted to watch them make out either. Though, she enjoyed seeing them as they were now, curled up together on the couch, her father's arm draped around her mother's shoulders, her leaning into his side, one arm wrapped around his waist. It was sweet. And encouraging. With so many of her friend's parents divorced, or unhappy, it was nice to have affirmation that a long lasting, happy relationship was possible.
She knew that her parents had their issues. Her father being away a lot led to some tensions, as well as the other stuff that came up between couples. She'd heard them arguing about money, the house, even her on occasion. Especially after she'd first come out, and was acting out. She'd also seen their tempers flare over ridiculous things, like forgetting to add milk to the grocery list, or putting gas in the tank. But, she knew they weren't going to split over those stupid things. Or even the bigger issues. And, honestly, she wanted someone to fight with over whose turn it was to take out the trash, or whose responsibility it was to pick up the dry cleaning. She couldn't wait for the day when she was coming home to someone every evening, and waking up to them every morning. Having them there to eat dinner with, and spend lazy Sundays with, and wrestle over the remote and grumble over what was on TV with. And, more and more, the person in her vague visions of the future was solidifying into Paige.
"Hey, you okay?" Paige murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You seem a million miles away."
Emily turned to her, and gave her a soft smile. "Never better," she promised, snuggling in. "Never better."