Sarah kissed Emory back eagerly until she found herself pressed up against the brick wall of the stoop. Emory was kissing her now with what could only be called skilled precision and she was getting lost in it all. She must have a master’s degree in kissing. Sarah felt a weakness creep into her body that could only be cured by pulling Emory closer to her, up against her, so she could feel her all over. She allowed her hands to drift lower from around Emory’s neck where they rested, until she caressed the small curve of her hips and even lower until she was cupping Emory’s ass tightly, all the while their mouths continued to dance.
Sighing deeply, and warring with her body’s natural instinct, Sarah reluctantly slowed the pace of the kiss and pulled her mouth begrudgingly from Emory’s. She took a moment to catch her breath and right herself.
When she raised her gaze, there was a new look in Emory’s eyes. There had been so many times Sarah had asked herself how Emory was feeling, but in this moment, she knew. She could see the sincere emotion clear as day. Sarah lifted her palm to Emory’s cheek and caressed it softly.
“I might be in trouble here,” Emory finally whispered. “Doesn’t feel casual.”
Sarah shook her head slowly in agreement. “Maybe trouble’s okay.”
“I didn’t plan on this.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“It’s like no matter how many barriers I put up, you’re able to decimate each and every one.” Emory moved away, and when she did, her eyes flashed a vulnerability Sarah had never seen in her before. It was clear she was uncomfortable and it pulled at Sarah.
“Don’t run from me, Emory.”
“I’ll probably screw up.”
“It’s possible.”
“But I want to try.”
Sarah leaned in and kissed her softly. “Then we will.”
Emory took a deep breath and smiled. She took Sarah’s hand as they walked the short distance to her car. “Let me know how it goes with Grace.”
“Okay.” And then a terrifying thought occurred to Sarah. “What if she says something to my parents?”
“I get the impression she’s protecting you a bit, so I don’t think she would do that. But would it be so terrible if she did?” Emory seemed to be testing the waters a bit. “I’m going to take the freaked out expression on your face as a yes.”
She should probably explain. “Don’t be upset. I think it might be best for them to get to know you a little first before I say anything…about this.” Emory didn’t respond. Her face was carefully blank. “You know, so they have a real life reference and not just a perceived idea to draw conclusions about. Make sense?”
“I guess so.”
“I was actually hoping you’d come to my older brother’s birthday party next Sunday. You can meet everyone together, all in one fell swoop.”
Emory seemed to brighten at the mention. “Done. I would love to meet your family. I’m actually kind of excited about the idea.” She then leaned in for one final toe-curling kiss that left Sarah thinking about so much more. They were one spark away from a fire that wouldn’t be so easy to put out, and it was beginning to feel like the worst kind of torture.
“We need to schedule a more adult themed date. Soon. No eight-year-olds allowed. Did I mention the word soon? Because I meant to.”
“I think I could be agreeable to soon.” Emory raised an eyebrow. “How soon are we talking exactly?”
“Are you free tomorrow?” Sarah feathered her fingers through Emory’s hair.
“Damn it, I’m not. My sister’s coming into town, and I’ve agreed to have dinner with her and her family.”
“Vanessa? That’s great news.” Sarah practically bounced with excitement. “I’m happy you’ll get to spend time with her. I can’t imagine my brothers not living close by.”
Emory seemed to mull this over. “I wouldn’t go with wonderful. As I’ve mentioned before, Vanessa and I are very different people, and tomorrow is going to be, what’s the word I’m looking for? Hell. Tomorrow is going to be hell.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic? I bet you wind up having a great time.”
*
Twenty-two hours later and Emory was not having a great time. She and Vanessa had signed the papers for the sale of the house earlier that day at the realtor’s office and decided to meet that evening for dinner.
Traditionally, the day had been a hotbed of passive aggressive comments and thinly veiled judgments from Vanessa, mostly aimed at her. Deciding to be the bigger person, she’d let them all go.
Emory had opted to cook dinner for her sister’s family at the beach house, thinking the in-home environment might relax everyone a bit more than the ambiance of an expensive restaurant would. Plus, Vanessa hadn’t ever actually been inside her house, as they’d always spent family dinners together at her mother’s house. She’d been kind of excited, much to her own chagrin, to show off the place to her older sister, hoping with some strange backward childhood derived reason that she would like it. No such luck.
Vanessa and her minions arrived half an hour late. She breezed in wearing a striking red dress with a wide belt and gorgeous Jimmy Choo pumps. Her twelve-year-old twin nieces, Calie and Chloe, were dressed like miniature trashy pop singers in short-shorts, fishnets, and matching low-cut blouses. She didn’t let herself dwell too much on the style of parenting that had allowed for such ensembles. Lastly, her brother-in-law, Lawrence, strode in behind them looking utterly bored with the world and his place in it. Kill me now, she thought to herself.
Vanessa floated casually into the living room and gazed around. “So, little sister, this is where you live. My, my, looks pricey.” Was that a backhanded compliment? Emory was pretty sure it was.
“Vanessa, Lawrence, can I offer you a glass of Chardonnay?” She was going to remain super cheerful if it fucking killed her. “Girls, I have several options for you in the fridge if you want to take a look.”
Her nieces scurried from the room in search of a fruity drink, as Vanessa seemed to consider her options. “If the Chardonnay is unoaked and at least five years old, I’ll take it. If not, some mineral water will suffice.”
“Chardonnay coming right up,” she sang through gritted teeth.
“Make sure it’s from California,” Vanessa called after her.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Luckily, the bottle she’d chilled seemed to fit the very specific bill her sister had laid out for her. She retrieved it from the chiller and set to pouring three glasses.
“What’s that smell?” Lawrence asked, seeming to wake up from his trance and join the land of the living.
“Um, dinner, I guess.”
“How nice.” He seemed unconvinced.
“Not to worry, everyone. I made sure it’s vegan. I looked up a few recipes I thought you might like, and I think it all came out nicely.” She didn’t mention that she’d spent the entire afternoon slaving in the kitchen to make sure every detail of the meal would be to complete and utter perfection. “So tonight we’ll be dining on spinach and tofu cannelloni, apple coleslaw, and some tropical sweet potatoes. We’ll finish with vegan chocolate cake for dessert.” That one had really killed her.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Vanessa said. “We’re not vegan anymore. It just got to be too hard, and the food never tasted good. But I’m sure your meal will be sublime. Won’t it, girls?”
“Sure,” Chloe replied with zero enthusiasm.
Calie shrugged. “Want to see our dance routine, Aunt Emory?”
“Um, right now?” She glanced at the waiting meal in the kitchen. She didn’t want to hold off too long on serving the cannelloni, but then again, the night was not about the food, she reminded herself.
“Come on, Emory, let the girls show you. They’ve been working very hard in class the past few weeks.”
“All right.” Emory sat on the sectional next to Vanessa who pulled out an iPod and plugged it magically into a small set of speakers she apparently carried in her Prada bag for such an occasion. The girls assumed their opening position, which consisted of crisscrossed gangster arms. Interesting. The next three minutes flew by in a whirlwind of bumping, grinding, midriff flashing madness of the like Emory would never forget. The idea that this highly provocative routine came from two twelve-year-olds was enough to make her want to scrub the images from her head immediately and for always. She wondered what her mother would write in her journal about this one.