Christmas Shopping
Emily dropped Luke off at the shop to open it and then drove back to her parents’ house to pick up Robbie. While it was wonderful to spend adult time with Luke, she missed her handsome little boy. She hated the anxiety she felt from being separated from her son. She knew it was silly, and that she had no reason to feel that way. Luke had told her it was maternal instinct in overdrive.
She swung into the driveway of her parents’ home on the corner lot of a residential street.
“Hey,” she called out as she entered the back door by the side of the garage, “anybody up?”
“In here, Emily,” called her mother from the dining room. If there was one thing about her mother that never changed, it was that each meal was taken in the dining room no matter what it was. Emily crossed into the dining room to find her mother at the table, feeding Robbie in the high chair, but also her sister Angela, which was unusual. Because of her third shift job at the hospital she was usually asleep by now.
“Mama,” Robbie called, holding up his sticky hands for a hug.
“Hey, big boy,” she said, kissing the top of his head. “Hi, Ange. What’re you doing up?”
Angela’s mouth drew in a tight line, especially after she witnessed Robbie’s reaction to Emily.
“Just saying hi to Mom,” she said with a note of defeat in her voice. “I have to get going.”
“You just got here,” said Amanda Dougherty. “Stay and have breakfast.”
“No, Mom. I can’t.” She stood and shrugged on her wool winter coat.
“Well, call me,” said Emily. “I haven’t heard from you.”
“I’ll do that,” said Angela, with a cool undertone she never used with Emily. “Later.” She rushed out of the house as if a wild animal was following her.
“Did I do something wrong?” said Emily.
“No, dear,” her mother sighed.
“Is there something wrong?” Emily said as she pulled out a chair to sit.
“I can’t talk about it. She made me promise.”
Now Emily was worried. She and Angela had always been tight. She took Robbie’s scrambled egg from her mother and put in on the tray. “He’s old enough to eat on his own,” she said.
“But it’s so messy.”
Emily cocked an eyebrow at her mother. “He will handle a fork and spoon on his own, but he’s too young now. He can’t bring food to his mouth. Look at him, Ma. He’s a chubby boy. He’s not starving.”
“I suppose,” said her mother. “But still.”
Emily handed Robbie his sippy cup. “There, sweetie. Have some milk.”
“Juice,” said her mother. “I gave him apple juice.”
“Did you dilute it?”
“Well, no.”
“Mom, I’ve told you. One hundred percent juice gives him the runs.”
“Sorry, Emily. I wasn’t thinking. Angela had come in and—” Her mother cut herself off.
“What is it? Was she upset that I cut short our conversation last night?”
“What?” said her mother with surprise in her voice. “No. Oh, Emily, don’t tell her I told you this, but she got her period this morning.”
“Oh,” said Emily. Angela and Justin had been trying for months to get pregnant.
“And then she saw Robbie and started crying.”
“Well shoot, that’s just her hormones.”
“That’s what I told her but, Em, she’s so jealous of you right now. She hates herself for it, but she can’t help how she feels.”
Her mother’s words struck Emily harder than they should. Sure, as they were growing up there was competition between them, especially since Angela seemed like the favorite daughter. But there was never a time where one was so jealous or upset with the other that they couldn’t talk.
“Mom, what can I do?”
“Nothing,” she replied. “This is something she’ll have to handle herself.”
“They’ve only been trying...” Then Emily stopped, realizing that her sister and husband had been trying for a year and a half.
“And you didn’t try at all,” said her mother gently.
“Well, that’s not true. Luke and I have been trying for a baby brother or sister for six months now.”
“Six months is not as long as a year and a half. And I’m surprised you have any time to try at all, as busy as you both are.”
“We make time for the important things,” said Emily, not exactly wanting to go into detail about that with her mother. She wiped Robbie’s hands with a napkin. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get you a bath.”
“What? Don’t you have to get to work?”
“Month-ends are done for the business and my clients, and I won’t get more work until after Christmas when I start the tax returns. And with it being winter, Luke doesn’t need me at the shop as much. Really, all I have planned today is Christmas shopping. So, I’ll be back early to pick up Robbie. You need a break, anyway.”
“He’s no trouble.”
Emily swung Robbie out of his high chair. “Ugh. Grandma’s got you stuffed,” she said with a smile.
“He’s a growing boy.”
Emily pinched his fat cheeks. “Yes, he is, aren’t you, Robbie? Come on, sweetie. Let’s get you ready for the day.” She took him up the stairs to the bathroom after ducking quickly into her old room. Her parents put a crib up for Robbie before he was born, expecting to be full-time grandparents. She put him standing in the crib so she could get the clothes from the dresser, and he fussed. “No, Robbie. No nap. Bath time. You love water. It’s bath time, sweetie.”
“What’s this noise?” said Emily’s father. He walked into the bedroom and picked up Robbie.
“Gran’pa,” Robbie cooed.
“I’m just getting him ready for his bath.”
“Shouldn’t you be at the shop?” Despite the question, her father’s voice registered his disapproval. He tolerated Luke for his daughter’s sake, but he made it clear the problems Emily experienced since she reunited with her high school love were clearly Luke’s fault. This was not true. Her old boyfriend, Evan, was a major player in the events that caused her to get arrested and lose her job. But her father was a stubborn man, and wouldn’t budge from his opinion of Luke. “Hey, big guy,” said her father warmly. He cuddled his grandson. “Oh, you’re growing so fast. Soon you’ll be too big for grandpa to pick up.”
Robbie lurched forward and gave his grandfather a sloppy kiss.
“Bath time, Robbie,” said Emily. She took him from her father’s arms.
“So, he’s staying today?”
“Of course, Dad. But I’ll be back early.”
“Well, good. We have a solid TV schedule to keep.”
“He likes people to read him stories, too.”
“I’ll get in a story or two. We’re working on Horton Hears a Who.
“Hort’n,” laughed Robbie, clapping his hands.
“Good. I’m glad you’re hitting all the literary classics.”
“You used to like them,” he said.
Emily smiled and took Robbie into the bathroom. After getting thoroughly splashed by her playful son, she dressed him and returned him to her mother who’d just placed her father’s breakfast in front of him.
“Oh, Em, Robbie did a job on you.”
“Yeah. Do you mind if I borrow one of your sweaters?”
“Not at all. You know where they are.”
Emily climbed the stairs again and entered her parents’ bedroom. She opened the drawer in the dresser where her mother kept her sweaters and rummaged for a color she liked. Her hand brushed against a papery texture, so she drew it out, to find a letter addressed to her mother. Emily recognized the handwriting. It was in the hand of her biological father, a man who’d left her pregnant mother behind and didn’t look back.
Emily had brief contact with him, but his career as an undercover DEA agent made it impossible to have a real relationship with him. She had named Robbie after him, but since her son’s birth she hadn’t heard from him.
And now her mother had received a letter from him?
Emily checked the postmark, and it was recent. She turned it over, painfully tempted to read it, but she found that her mother hadn’t opened it.
That was interesting.
Emily placed the letter back in the corner and pulled out a cornflower-blue sweater. It wasn’t any of her business.
“Emily?”
Her mother’s voice suddenly behind her caused Emily to start.
“Yeah, Mom.” She pulled off her wet shirt and pulled on the sweater.
“Everything okay?” she said anxiously.
Now it was Emily’s turned to be concerned. Her mother wasn’t a nervous woman. Was she worried that Emily had found the letter? And why wouldn’t she open it? Emily knew Rob was her first love, but when he took off she found love with Sam Dougherty, the only man that Emily knew as father. She swallowed hard, uncomfortable with these thoughts. Did the sudden return of Rob Gibson nineteen months again upset things between her mother and overprotective father?
“Sure, Mom. Okay, I’ve got to go. See you soon, okay? But...” She wasn’t sure what to say, but Emily put her hand on her mother’s shoulder. “If you ever need me, let me know, okay?”
Amanda Dougherty laughed nervously and pulled Emily’s hand from her shoulder. “Of course I’ll call if little Robbie needs you.” She gave her daughter a quizzical look. “Don’t be silly.”
Emily kissed her mother on the cheek. “Later, Mom.”
She couldn’t help thinking about her mother, and that letter. Rob Gibson was a cipher, a piece of her that remained a mystery. His arrival had caused a breach between Emily and her adoptive father, but he didn’t hang around long enough for Emily to get the answers she needed.
Or was it closure?
All her life she felt like an outsider in her own family. It wasn’t that she was treated unequally, but she reacted differently than her baby sister to her father’s treatment. Where Angela found his overbearing presence comforting, Emily found it stifling. Where Angela was content to be a “good girl,” Emily found she had to act the part. It was only when she met Luke when she was seventeen that she felt like herself. Luke understood her in ways her family did not.
And it caused a bigger rift with her family.
No wonder Sam Dougherty resented Luke. He blamed Luke for a “change” in Emily, even though what happened was that her real personality came out. She, quite simply, was not the “good girl” Sam Dougherty had thought he’d nurtured through her life.
Emily nearly overshot the entrance of her destination—the parking lot of a Harley dealership. She swung in too quickly, causing the tires to squeal. If her father saw her now, he would shake his head.
She had a budget, so Emily decided to shop what was available in a dealership. At the very least Emily could shop the different models and see if there was one that screamed “Luke” to her. If these bikes were too expensive, she could always shop for cheaper bikes online once she knew what she was looking for.
The interior was covered in orange and black paint, with several large Harley logos plastered on the walls. She stepped up to the line of used Harleys running the length of the shop. Arranged on raised platform proudly stood new Harleys. The chrome of the bikes sparkled shinier than tinsel hanging from a Christmas tree.
“Is there something—” started a familiar voice.
Emily turned, surprised to see who approached her.
“Pepper?” was all she could say, her mouth dropping open, at a loss for words.