“He fought in Korea.” Dredging up the tale summoned a muddled swarm of emotion. Happy memories, mingled with grief and everything in-between. “I didn’t know it until I was twenty-one, because he never talked about it. I pushed through college, to graduate early, and I was back home, trying to figure out what to do with my life. The internship offers were lined up, or I could get my M.B.A. It was all collapsing in on me, demanding I decidenow, and I couldn’t handle the stress. I snapped at everyone who tried to talk to me. My parents shrugged it off as me being a moody, hormonal asshole.”
“Who? You?” Affection and sympathy peppered Emily’s question.
It helped ground him in the present, rather than sinking into the kaleidoscope of the past. “I know; it’s hard to believe. Grandpa saw something they didn’t. He pulled me aside one day, and that was when he told me about Korea. He looked so haunted, but there was also a glimmer in his eyes I’d never seen before. Ghosts of exhilaration. He said he’d enlisted to see the world. He didn’t want to die only having seen a tiny corner of Las Vegas. And he saw so much, both horrible and glorious. I asked him if the terror outweighed the wonder. He was dismayed I’d even suggest it. He told me he hated the horrible things he’d seen, but he wouldn’t surrender the grand experience of it all to get rid of a few scars. The next day, I burned the offer letters and MBA program applications, emptied my bank account, and bought a one-way ticket to Brazil.”
There was enough of a rush associated with that moment in his life that it filled him again, flowing through his veins.
Emily looked fascinated, but so did Antonio, despite having heard the story before.
“Why Brazil?” she wanted to know.
“It was Carnaval, and I figured that was a good starting point.”
“So many times I’ve imagined what that would be like—leaving it all behind and heading into a country you’d never been to, in order to taste something new. It sounds incredible.”
His parents had been furious, but he never regretted the decision. “It was amazing.”
“I kind of wish I’d done something like that while I still had the chance.” Emily looked wistful.
His reply stuck in his throat with a concern that telling her to pursue the dream might mean never seeing her again. He was being ridiculous. “The opportunity is always there.”
“I guess.”
Her uncertainty was more reassuring than it should be. God, he was such a hypocrite.
* * * *
EMILY WAS GRATEFULCynthia and Paul’s cars were gone when she went home on Saturday morning for a change of clothes. She’d have to deal with them both, but she was riding the high of last night and didn’t want to ruin it. There was no sex. Instead, the three of them talked until early in the morning.
Antonio invited her back, promising there was no work involved, and she accepted without hesitation.
She hurried through her shower. When she emerged, she hesitated at the bathroom door, straining to hear other sounds in the house. Still empty. Perfect. As she finished getting ready, her phone chimed with a new email. She scanned the message from Grant, plucking out the highlights. He wanted her to skip the APPropriate Designs offices on Monday morning and meet with him instead.
It would the perfect time to let him know they’d meet their deadline without issue. She sent back a quick but professional version ofI’ll be thereand headed for the door. It swung open as she reached for the handle, and her heart jumped into her throat.
“Jeez. You startled me.” Cynthia stepped into the apartment.
Emily gave a nervous laugh. “Same.”
Cynthia looked at her purse and shoes. “Are you leaving or getting home?”
“I’m on my way out.” Could Emily sidestep an uncomfortable conversation? Or better, maybe they’d forget anything happened. A perfect answer, as long as she avoided Paul until he moved out.
“Do you have a little bit?” Cynthia stepped aside, despite her question. “A couple minutes. I want to make sure we’re all right.”
That was about as non-aggressive an approach as Emily could imagine. “Sure. I can stick around for a few.”
“Good.” Cynthia sounded relieved. “I was worried you wouldn’t talk to me for a while, after yesterday.”
“I thought about not, but we have too much history.”
“Exactly. All three of us do.”
Discomfort scraped through Emily like nails on a chalkboard. “That’s true...”
“Then hear Paul out?”
Emily clenched her teeth. “I already did that. We didn’t have the same perspective, and he didn’t want to listen to my side.” She tried to keep the irritation from her voice. Cynthia wasn’t being obtuse on purpose; she was looking out for her brother.