The Rest Will Come Page 10

  “I don’t know yet. I’m going to see when I talk to him today. He was more than a good kisser.”

  “Yeah, the pretty, dumb ones usually are.”

  “It’s not fair.”

  “Welcome to life, sweets.”

  Gladys unlocked the door for the first wave of zombified commuters to shamble into the shop. Emma let her thoughts dissipate, focusing on the monotonous rhythm of taking and fulfilling orders for espressos, double chai lattes, caramel macchiatos. She let herself become the work and everything else become background noise, and the hours disappeared in a blur.

  Emma high-fived the Maxwell twins when they came behind the counter to relieve her shift, matching fraternity brothers who existed in perpetual hangover. If they did not have nametags, Emma would have never been able to distinguish Brody from Ryan.

  Dylan had already appeared in the shop and seated himself at a table by the windows. Emma went to change out of her uniform and collect her things from the back.

  Gladys, with her apron slung over her shoulder, gathered Emma up and swallowed her in a hug, the same way she did after every shift.

  “Oh, darling, if I had sons, I would set them up with you. Unfortunately, my husband only makes girls. Three bat shit crazy girls.”

  “Just like their momma,” Emma joked. Gladys gasped and swatted at her playfully with her apron.

  “Good luck today. Don’t worry, you’ll find your way. Trust your instincts. Stop thinking so much and trying so hard. The rest will come. And if that pretty boy decides not to play nice, you send him to me. I’ll fix him up with some coffee with the special ingredient.”

  “What’s the special ingredient?”

  “Poison. Don’t no one mess with my babies.”

  When Emma emerged, Dylan was still seated at a table against the window, sunlight spilling over him. She was glad he had selected a location far from the counter. Not that the Maxwell twins would have any interest in eavesdropping on her dating drama, but she would feel more comfortable if it was not a possibility.

  Dylan looked up at her. Their eyes met, and she flushed at the contact. Her chest tightened with a pull at the base of her stomach. A blur of how he tasted, the way he felt on top of her, the heat from his mouth, his fingertips along her skin flashed over her nerves. This was a spark; this was attraction.

  He poofed. He poofed. He poofed, she repeated in her head, trying to dislodge her consciousness from her physical response.

  Dylan stood as she approached the table. The smile snaked seductively across his face. His eyes turned up seemingly just for her. He reached out and snagged her fingertips in his, dragging her forward to gently press his lips to hers.

  With no dead fish tongue.

  Emma resisted the electricity ascending the vertebrae of her spine, shoved back against the flutter below her ribs. She strove not to imagine him giving her that same look naked like the last time she saw him.

  He. Poofed.

  She pulled back and sat down across from him, hardening her face.

  “How was work?” he asked, sitting down.

  “Good. Busy. Weekdays always are.”

  “When do you have to be at the call center?”

  “Couple hours. I have to be on the line by the time all the normal people get off work. I usually nap in my car in between.”

  “But instead you’re having coffee with me.”

  “Yep.”

  “Speaking of, let me order us something.”

  While Dylan ventured up to the counter, Emma struggled to compose herself. When she thought about Dylan, there was nothing besides tinges of anger, irritation, detachment. When she looked at him, she wanted to like him. She wanted him to be The One. They would make such beautiful babies. She needed Ronnie beside her now, analyzing and cataloging his every flaw right into her ear.

  “So what shit did you have happen?” Emma asked after Dylan rejoined her at the table.

  “Oh, just some family shit. My brother broke up with his girl. It was a mess, pretty dramatic. I had to help him move out quickly. Then I had to keep him drunk and distracted for a couple days, you know.”

  Are there no phones where your brother lives? Is it a black hole of cell service? Could you have not told me this? she thought as she listened to him.

  “How is he holding up?”

  “He’ll be all right. She was a bitch anyway.”

  One of the Maxwell twins approached with their drinks. “Black coffee here. And a double shot, just like you like it, Eminem,” he said, placing the drinks in front of them.

  Emma raised her hand for the obligatory high five and glanced at his nametag. “Thanks, Brody.”

  “Got you. Brode and I swapped tags. I knew you couldn’t tell us apart.”

  “Pretty sneaky for frat boys.” Ryan chuckled and moved back to the counter.

  “Did your coworker just call you Eminem?”

  “Yes. An unfortunate nickname.”

  “How did you get that?”

  “His brother Brody busted me dancing to one of Eminem’s songs. Like full on white girl feeling it. Then my name starts with Em, and I’m white. It sort of stuck. Everyone here calls me that, even my second mom, Gladys.”

  “That’s hilarious.”

  “If you say so.”

  The conversation died for a moment over their steaming beverages. Dylan looked calmly at Emma, still with that curl in his lips.

  “Dylan, I have to ask you something.”

  “Okay, shoot.”

  “I want to know what we’re doing here. I thought we were dating. Then you, like, disappeared for a couple days, then reappear like nothing. So I’m not sure what’s happening.”

  “Oh.” Dylan sat up straighter in his chair, leaning back from her and retracting his arm back to the other side of his coffee cup. His eyes shifted around. “We never had the relationship talk.”

  “I know, and that’s why I’m asking. When we started hanging out, you said you were looking to settle down, to be in a relationship.”

  “Yeah, I did say that.”

  “I thought things were going well between us. When you brought me around your family, I guess I assumed we were going in that direction.”

  “Yeah, I could see that. You’re really awesome. I like spending time with you. I just don’t think I’m in a relationship place right now. I have a lot going on with work and my brother and all that. I don’t think I could really commit.”

  All the air went out of Emma’s lungs from the impact. Her mind started to buzz, her thoughts whirring. Suddenly, she could not hear anything else.

  In the encapsulating silence, something flared in her. Looking at Dylan’s unaffected and unattached face, heat stretched out through her limbs, embodied her fingertips. Her digits itched. She thought about the scalding hot beverages she could pour over his beautiful, misleading face. He would not be flashing that gorgeous grin when she doused him with steaming coffee then bashed him in the head with the pot until he stopped moving.

  She pushed out her seat and walked out the door.

  The sun blinded her as she walked to her car, attempting to hide the tears brimming in her eyes behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses. If she made it across town fast enough, she could still sneak in a car nap before her next shift. She could shut out the world, slip in the dark layer beneath reality, and pretend Dylan did not happen.

  Crawling defeated into her seat, she pulled out her phone to share her pain.

  Emma: Dylan is out.

  Ronnie: He reappeared?

  Emma: Poof. Wanted to see me today. Turns out he doesn’t want a relationship.

  Ronnie: WTF.

  Emma: Yeah. I’ll message you after work.

  The sun beat down hot and unforgiving on Emma as she slept in her reclined driver’s seat. Roasted dreams writhed under her skull, causing her eyes to dart rapidly below their lids. She breathed heavy and thick with her fingertips wrapped around the edge of the seat, sweat pricking through the pores at th
e perimeter of her hair.

  Her phone alarm shattered the depths of her shallow sleep.

  Emma groaned and tossed her hands over her face, shielding the heat of the sun. She did not want to open her eyes. She did not want to walk into the building. She wanted only to sleep in an empty blackness where she did not have to work every hour and fail at dating every spare minute.

  The alarm sang out again, mocking her, beckoning her.

  Without opening her eyes, she shifted the seat up to bar retreat back into the recline. She ground her fingertips into her eye sockets until stars burst out of the darkness, shook her head hard, and forced herself out of the vehicle.

  ***

  “Hey, Emma,” Brendan said, walking into the breakroom. “Oh man, you look tired. You okay?”

  Emma looked up from dumping coffee into a large mug to see the ugly sympathy on his face.

  “Yeah, I am definitely tired,” Emma replied. “I was napping before this shift. Still waking up I think.”

  “Well, that’s because you work eighteen jobs.”

  “Unfortunately. Have to keep paying for my mistakes, I guess.”

  “Speaking of, how’s that new guy going?”

  “Add him to my ever-growing list of mistakes.”

  “Oh no, what happened this time?”

  “Well, I’m awesome, but…”

  “The ‘you’re awesome but’ speech again?”

  “Yes, again. Apparently, I misread the signals of spending a bunch of time together, telling me he wanted to settle down and have a family, and taking me to meet his family as being in a relationship because he decided that’s not what he wants. And I’m awesome…but!”

  “I’m sorry, Emma. I really am. Where do you find these winners?”

  “I clearly have super awesome taste in men.”

  “Male coworkers, obviously. Male friends, of course. Men you date? I’m starting to think you might suck at that.”

  “I know I suck at this. And any time I have doubts, whoever I am dating makes sure I really remember.”

  “It’s okay, Emma. You’re really awesome. But—”

  “I will fucking stab you with that plastic knife over there.”

  “Whoa! So violent. I was just telling you how awesome you are.” Brendan moved to walk out of the breakroom. “But!” he called over his shoulder, disappearing into the cubes.

  Emma could not help the grin, however brief. She gulped down half her mug and returned to the phones.

  Chapter 9

  “Holy shit, girl. You look like absolute hell,” Ronnie said, greeting her as she pushed through the door into Emma’s house.

  “Thank you, Ronnie. You sure know how to make me feel better. I worked one job. Then Dylan tap danced all over my bruised little heart. Then I worked a whole other job and now I’m here.”

  “Just a bitter shell of a person.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Bitch, we are not doing this again. Don’t let these assholes starve you out.” Ronnie placed a hand on her hip and glared at Emma.

  “Fine,” Emma sighed heavily. “Get the ice cream.”

  Their spoons clanked and scraped against the bowls while the two ate their ice cream, Emma slow and with resistance. Each time she looked up from her bowl at Ronnie, Ronnie cast a stern glare and gestured toward the food, the way Emma remembered her mother doing when she was being defiant at dinner. As always, it was pointless to fight. She choked the ice cream down, swallowing full mouthfuls to get it over with.

  “So Dylan is another douchebag,” Ronnie said.

  “Pretty much.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “But you didn’t like him.”

  “I didn’t think he was going to be the guy. I don’t think you truly thought he was the guy either.”

  “Probably not. I got ahead of myself again, wanting to be back on track.”

  “Ems, there is no track. The things you want will still happen.”

  “Sure, they will. I can’t have a family while I’m single.”

  “There is always the turkey baster option.”

  “Consider that Plan B.”

  “Noted. See, you don’t need a guy. Worst case scenario, you go with Plan B.”

  “I don’t just want the kid, Ronnie. I want the family.”

  “I know you do. I still think that will happen. Only maybe not as fast as you want it or with the type of guy you think you want.”

  “Because I want jerks.”

  “You said it.”

  “I’m only quoting you.”

  “Emma, I don’t think anything is wrong with you. Any guy would be lucky to have you. I do think there’s a bit of damage up here.” Ronnie tapped her temple. “I think some hang up is causing you to pick guys who will eventually go badly.”

  “You would know self-sabotage best.”

  “Exactly.”

  “How am I supposed to change who I am attracted to?”

  “I don’t know, Emma, but I do know that if you keep picking these same idiots because they get you wet, you’re going to keep ending up here. Over and over and over.”

  “Eeew, Ronnie. You want Tim to be the guy.”

  “Timmy seems like a great guy. I do like Timmy.”

  “Fish tongue.”

  Ronnie let a burst of laughter escape. “Sure, fish tongue.”

  “I don’t think I’m attracted to him. I like him, and I like spending time with him, but I don’t think I like him like that. The awful kissing kind of killed anything.”

  “I get that. That’s fair enough. Bad kissing is awful. Total buzz killer. But do you think that after this bullshit with Dylan and the like, it might be worth trying to develop something with Timmy? Ultimately, kissing can be taught. Boys can be trained.”

  “I don’t want to train anyone. Why can’t I just find someone I actually like? Am I supposed to fake it with this guy I’m not into?”

  “Absolutely not. I would never tell you to fake something. Try to go in with an open mind. Date him, get to know him, see if anything grows.”

  “To hell with it,” Emma said. “What else am I doing?”

  ***

  Emma lay in the tangled sheets of Tim’s bed, fighting off the tears. Frustration was hot in her ducts, and she blinked back wildly to keep it contained. The shower was running in the adjoining bathroom. Still she did not want to fall apart when he could return at any moment. He whistled in the shower in post-coital bliss.

  Emma gritted her teeth and flipped onto her back, staring up at the textured ceiling, which warbled behind the water in her eyes. The clenched, unconsummated energy twitched in her muscles, and the stifled blood flow of a failed orgasm dissipated uncomfortably. Of fumbling nowhere in the neighborhood of an orgasm. Her cheeks still felt moist from his sloppy kisses. When his tongue did move, it plunged for her tonsils, near gagging her as he clutched her close. A thin ache lined her inner thighs from his jackrabbit rhythm.

  Somewhere between exposed and unsatisfied, she fell despondent in the strange limbo between. How many times could she try this? When would he notice that she did not match his enjoyment? He seemed so elated to be inside her, like a giddy teenage virgin, that he scarcely noticed her muted moans and unenthusiastic responses.

  She did not know how to tell him he was not ringing her bell. Ronnie made it sound so easy to inform him he was an awful lay. When Emma looked into Tim’s excited puppy-dog eyes, she could only let him shove his tongue toward her esophagus.

  She wanted to feel something for Tim. Half the heat in her tears burned from her own failure. He was perfect on paper. Educated, employed, funny. He treated her well and made her feel comfortable, so comfortable that he reminded her of her brother. Yet his appearance did not elicit even a tingle on her nerves. His touch steadily started to beckon a flinch under her skin.

  What is wrong with me? Emma thought over and over again.

  The
thought echoed in her head repeatedly until it became a mantra and then until the sounds began to lose meaning. It recurred until it simply dissipated into silence. In that fraction of peaceful black, Emma drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  “Good morning,” Tim whispered in her ear as he slid his naked body next to hers. He wrapped his arms fully around her and pulled her close. The warmth of his body heat felt pleasant, and Emma curled into him. It felt good to be held. Slowly, his hand caressed her back, rhythmically sweeping lower. He swirled his fingertips over her hips, migrating steadily south toward her thighs. Emma reached down and tangled her fingers in his.

  “I’m kind of sore from last night,” she lied. “Do you mind if we wait?”

  “Not at all,” he said.

  Tim freed his hand from hers and vigorously cupped her breast. Emma fought the urge to let her eyes roll over in their sockets. She pulled his arm around her, pressing her head into his chest until his heartbeat put her back to sleep.

  ***

  “Good Lord, woman! You look like hell,” Gladys sang out as Emma pushed her way into Happy Beans.

  “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

  “Maybe because it’s true. Maybe because you’re working yourself to the bone.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I have a problem, and I can’t really talk to Ronnie about it because I already know what she will say, and what she says isn’t working.”

  “Well, you know Ronnie and I are usually of a like mind.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  “So I’ve been dating Tim for a few months now.”

  “Right, the European engineer.”

  “Yes, exactly. I’m trying to make it work, but I do not feel anything romantic for him. And the sex is just so bad.”

  “A puppy can be trained.”

  “Yep, that’s what Ronnie said.”

  “See? Like minds. Sex is part of a relationship. Is there nothing redeemable about being with him?”