Rhys
Eternity [ee-tur-ni-tee] n—A seemingly endless period of time
After seeing Emmy on the stairs today, it’s like my mind is on this endless loop: Mom, SPMS, Emmy. Mom, SPMS, Emmy. For once, work was a welcome distraction.
It’s a quarter after nine when I walk into the house. My uniform smells like burnt grease and is smeared with corn-bread batter. Supe is lying on his bed, tossing a baseball up at Helaman, smiling like he’s just discovered ice cream. “Good night?” I ask.
Supe’s grin widens. “The best.” He rises to his feet and gets his shower stuff. “I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I was supposed to meet this girl. Is that weird?”
“No weirder than all the other stuff you believe in.”
He frowns. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to rub your face in it. I know things have been difficult for you.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Supe goes to shower, and I sit at my desk and open the packet the financial counselor gave me on assisted-living homes. Since I didn’t find the answers I wanted about controlling the course of Mom’s disease, maybe it’s time to open the other envelope and consider options for improving her quality of life. As much as I don’t want to consider this option, I want Mom to be safe.
A moment later, a heavy knock sounds at the front door. I finish reading a sentence and stand. Before I can answer the door, the knock comes again.
Jeez.
I yank open the door. “Dude—”
Emmy bursts into the room, and before I know what’s happening, her arms are locked around my neck and she’s sobbing into my shirt.
I kick the front door shut and take a step back to make sure she’s not injured. “Are you hurt? Did something happen?”
“He came to pick me up, and—”
“He? He who?”
She shakes her head. “After we talked on the stairs,” she says, her voice muffled against my chest. “I couldn’t—How am I supposed to walk away from you? I love you, and you love me.” Her grip tightens around my neck. “I can’t do it. Heaven wouldn’t be heaven without you.” She pulls back and looks up. Her face is wet and puffy, and mascara is smudged under her red-rimmed eyes. “I don’t want eternity. Not without you.”
My thumbs brush her cheeks, along her hairline until I’m cupping her face in my hands. I’ve dreamed of this moment so many times. The moment she realizes she doesn’t want to give up on us. That we’re bigger than everything she learns on Sundays. But that’s not what she’s saying. She’s saying she wants all that, but she’ll give it up for me.
It happens so quickly I don’t see it coming. She rises to her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine.
I’m a good guy, but I’m not that good. I kiss her. With everything I am, with everything I feel. But then I pull back. I need to know what happened. “Talk to me.”
“I w-went on a date. And he was nice. Everything I should want.”
My jaw tenses.
“He was polite and funny and cute.” She looks deep into my eyes. “But he wasn’t you. No one will ever be you.”
I pull her hands from my neck and entwine my fingers with hers. “I shouldn’t say this.”
“W-what?”
“That I love you.”
Her mouth finds mine again, this kiss more desperate than the last.
The bathroom door squeaks open behind me, and Supe emerges in a cloud of steam, wearing his ridiculous bright-blue Superman pajamas. When he sees I’m not alone, he ducks his head and makes for the bedroom.
I look at Emmy and find her eyes haven’t left me. Like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she breaks the connection.
“Emelia?”
Emmy’s head snaps up. “N-Nathan?” She turns ghost white.
“What are you doing here?” Supe asks Emmy.
Emmy’s gaze bounces from Supe to me. “I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what, angel?”
“Whoa.” Supe drags a hand down his face. “Emelia. Emmy. I’m an idiot. The grainy picture. Blonde hair.”
Emmy takes a step away from me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. I didn’t know you guys were—I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. As much as I love you, nothing has changed. I want you, but we still can’t be together. I’m a mess. I’ve only made things worse. I’m sorry. So sorry.” Emmy bolts out the front door.
“What just happened?” I ask Supe.
“Emmy’s the girl I took out on a date tonight.”
Anger swells into a fierce rage deep inside my chest. I charge Supe, stopping just short of slamming him into the wall. My fists tighten around his collar, and he holds up his hands. “We didn’t know.”
I want to pound him into next week, but I don’t have time for that. I grit my teeth and drop my hold on him and run out the door to find Emmy. I’m just in time to see her taillights disappear around the corner.
Cursing under my breath, I turn back to the house to get my keys. My hand is on the doorknob before I stop. If I go back inside right now, I’m going to bloody my best friend. I sit on the frozen cement steps until I’ve cooled down. Emmy is probably home by now. What am I going to do? I can’t keep chasing her, hoping she’ll accept me for who I am.
Emmy said she didn’t want eternity without me, but as soon as she saw Supe, she retracted everything. She doesn’t want to get back together, and she isn’t going to give up her version of eternity. She misses me. She loves me. But deep down, she still wants a Mormon guy. Big wedding, white temple. Forever and ever.
All the lights in the house are off when I finally go inside. It’s late, and Supe is in bed.
I kick off my shoes but don’t bother changing out of my clothes. This day needs to end.
“I swear I didn’t know,” Supe whispers. “I never would have gone out with her.”
“I know,” I say. Supe is quiet for a few minutes. “I tried,” I finally say.
“Tried what?”
“To feel it. That burning feeling you guys talk about. Even met with the missionaries and asked to be baptized. I prayed too.”
Supe’s bed frame squeaks as he shifts. “And?”
“No answer.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Maybe you weren’t asking the right questions.”
“I don’t think that was the problem.”
“Were you asking because you wanted to know the truth or because you wanted Emelia, er, Emmy?” He sounds like that lie-detector missionary, Elder Marsden. Sometimes I forget my best friend is an RM trained in the art of conversion.
His question hangs in the air, but the answer doesn’t matter, so I say what does. “Treat my girl right.”