I fell asleep next to Emery while trying to figure out what to say. Maybe I could tell her I loved her, since it was undeniably true. But somehow it didn’t feel that easy.
I was awakened by the security system alerting me to a vehicle coming up the driveway.
I jumped out of her bed and went to check the house perimeter. From the entertainment center I scanned the external cameras and recognized the car that had parked outside.
Mr. Mitchell was entering the house as I reached the front door.
He chuckled as he took in my bed head and sleep pants. “Good morning, Dillon.” It was three in the afternoon.
“Still on a night schedule,” I informed him with a smile.
“Is she well?” he asked.
“Yes. I think. She made me do an LP last night. That was not fun.”
“She made you?” He raised his brow, knowing exactly how his daughter was. Like him.
He put a fresh supply of food for Emery in the refrigerator and went into the sun room—Emery’s idea room—looking at the odd collage of fish, cars, human skeletons and equations.
“It hasn’t been that long, but she really seemed to think she’s onto something after the LP. She has an idea, I could see it on her face.”
“You can read her face?”
I shrugged it off. “I could see an idea forming. I know that much.”
“That’s good. I know I might seem like I’m being a tyrant. But Emmie works better under pressure. If you hadn’t set the three month time limit, I probably would have.”
I frowned. “Don’t you think she’s under enough pressure already?”
“I guess she is.” He nodded. “Are you telling me to back off?”
I shook my head. “I don’t pretend to know your relationship or want to interfere. All I see is how scared and frustrated she is. She only started to relax and make some headway yesterday.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
We chatted about other things going on in the world for the rest of the afternoon. The last highway reopening, the repairs on the Eiffel Tower. Stuff like that.
All things considered, we humans had put ourselves back together fairly quickly. The bigger cities still had massive reconstruction projects underway, but everywhere else seemed back to normal—for the most part.
Time flew by fairly quickly. Mr. Mitchell and I sat on the deck and looked out over the forest with a beer as the sun began to dive for the horizon.
“Has Emmie said anything about her stepmother?” he asked.
“No.”
“Does she know I was having an affair?”
“Yes.”
“Damn.” He looked disappointed. “I don’t want her to feel like she can’t trust men, but I’m hardly a role model for her, am I?”
“This isn’t the first time this has happened?” I guessed, taking a sip of my beer.
“No. Heather was my fourth wife.”
“I see.” I didn’t say anything else for a moment. “Why get married if you know you can’t be faithful?” I really wanted to know the answer.
“To be honest, I always think I’m ready to settle down. Then some young girl looks at me and you know how it is. I’m sure you have the women eating out of your hand.”
“I try not to feed women from my hand.”
Mr. Mitchell chuckled and looked over his shoulder towards the door. “When will she wake up?”
I looked at the clock. “A few minutes. Excuse me.”
I made us some coffee and heated up Em’s blood in a cup, hoping it wouldn’t have the catastrophic effect as the night before if I got it to her right away. Adam raised his brow.
“I thought it might make her feel more normal to drink out of a cup,” I explained.
He nodded. “It’s the little things.”
Emery came out wearing a robe with her hair everywhere. I wanted to kiss her in the worst way, but this was hardly the right time. We couldn’t tell him about us until the two of us knew for certain what we had.
“Morning, Daddy. Good morning, Dillon.” I handed her the cup and relaxed when she took a sip. “Thanks.” Much better.
“How did you sleep, sweetie?” Adam asked.
“Like the dead. As always.” She shrugged and then stretched. “I had a new idea when I woke up.”
“That sounds promising.”
She smiled at me. “I have the chassis of the formula in my head now.”
“Chassis?” Adam questioned.
“Car metaphor,” she explained.
“That sounds like the best place to start.”
“Did you know it’s in the spinal fluid, not just the blood?” She frowned.
His brows creased. “That makes sense, given the areas of the body it affects.”
“Right.” She nodded. “I have a plan.”
“So why are you sitting here in your pajamas instead of making it happen?” Adam held out his hands.
“Oh, fine,” she muttered and got up, taking the mug with her. “You could at least let me finish my not-coffee first.”
“This is why she needs deadlines,” Adam said with a smirk.
Mr. Mitchell didn’t stay long. Once he’d unloaded some fresh supplies and equipment and finished his business, he left after giving her a kiss on the forehead.
Emery was now back in the sun room, erasing some of the fish to make room for her new ideas. She left the chassis picture up though, and occasionally while she was thinking she would draw her own fish.
Like before, I sat with her most of the night, keeping her company. She would chatter at me about compounds and bases and I would just smile and nod. I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about, but she looked cute when she said it.
She took some more of my blood and forced me to take hers. After performing the LP I wasn’t going to get out of a simple blood draw.
“Thank you for staying with me again. It’s nice to have someone to bounce ideas off.”
It was a pretty accurate metaphor, since most of the time it felt like they ricocheted off my skull rather than sink in. “As long as you don’t expect me to bounce anything back to you.” I chuckled.
“It helps to hear it out loud.”
I nodded. “I get that. I talk to someone whenever I work on a car.”
“Who?”
“Someone who isn’t there.” I shrugged, not wanting to tell her I had heated discussions with my father about why things weren’t engineered better at the factory.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t leave much time for us tonight.”
“You have a job to do. That has to come first. Don’t worry about it.”
“Will you stay with me when I sleep?” she asked.
“Sure.”
Before dawn I snuggled in bed and kissed her. It reminded me of the morning before when she had declared her feelings and I said nothing in return. She must have remembered too.
“I’m sorry about what I said before I fell asleep yesterday.” She looked at her hand, picking a string from the edge of the blanket.
My eyebrows creased as I watched her. “You’re sorry?”
“Yeah. I mean, this can’t be anything serious. I know that.”
“You shouldn’t be the one to apologize, Em. I’m the one who messed up. I have…issues with saying…you know,” I stammered.
“The ‘L’ Word?” she said in a joking tone. “Most guys do.”
I didn’t want to tell her how I had loved my parents and after they died I became leery of saying it to anyone else. As if it was a precursor to some grim event. I wasn’t ready to share any of that.
“I have more than just the normal issues, but it doesn’t mean this isn’t serious.” I put my hands on her face and pulled her chin up gently so she would meet my eyes. “This is definitely something, Em.” I kissed her lightly at first and then put some energy behind it. When I released her she looked a little dazed. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you exactly what that something is.” Here I was, only able to allude to my feelings like a chicken.
“I think maybe you kind of just did.” She smiled at me and then her eyes closed and she was out. The smile lingered on her face for a few seconds before sleep washed the expression away.
I pulled her close and closed my eyes.