Falling Page 8

  “For real?” His eyes grow big.

  “Do you think your dad would go nuts if I brought home a kitten?”

  “No!” he breathes, his eyes still large. “We had a lady live there two years ago who had two cats, and the last person had a big dog. He would be fine! For real, though? We can get this kitten?”

  “Hobbes. Yes. We’ll have to get a litter tray at Home Depot, and a cat flap.” Then she feels the moment fill her with a warm glow. “I haven’t had a cat since I was a child. This is actually very exciting!” she says, as Hobbes crawls on top of her foot and looks up at her with a plaintive mew.

  “Gosh, you are gorgeous, Hobbes,” she says, scooping the kitten up and burying her nose in her soft fur. Then she turns to Jesse. “Let’s do it!” she says. “But let’s leave her here while we go to the store to get everything we need, and we’ll pick her up on the way home.”

  In the end, what shocks her most isn’t her impetuous decision, but rather that she finds herself standing in the aisle of the shelter with a small child hugging her legs, his eyes closed and a huge smile on his face.

  Before long, she and Jesse are in the car, post Home Depot, the back filled with shelves, brackets, long thin boxes of thin veneer tongue-and-groove wood planks for the kitchen floor, cat litter tray and litter, cat flap and kitten food, and one cardboard box punctured with lines of round holes, from which Hobbes squeaks all the way home.

  • • •

  Dominic’s truck is in the driveway when they pull in next door.

  “Uh-oh,” says Emma, with a wave of regret. She was trying to do something nice for Jesse, as well as for herself, but she really should have checked with him beforehand—he is her landlord, after all. All of this only seems to be striking her now.

  “Do you really think it’s okay?” she asks Jesse.

  “I think he’ll be fine,” Jesse says, in a worryingly mature manner for a six-year-old. “Anyway, once he sees Hobbes, he’s going to fall in love. Like we did.”

  “Let’s hope so,” says Emma, as Dominic walks out the front door and comes over to the car with a big smile on his face.

  “Hey, buddy!” He gives Jesse a high five as he looks at the packed car. “You look like you need some help unpacking your vehicle, ma’am,” he says to Emma with mock formality. Then he frowns as Hobbes’s unmistakable mewling comes from inside the box.

  “I’m really sorry,” says Emma, and she immediately starts babbling. “We’re hoping you’re going to be okay with this and I realize I should have checked with you first but . . .”

  But Jesse stops her by bursting out with, “We got a kitten!” Before Dominic can react, before he has a chance even to speak, Jesse pulls open the box and grabs the tiny Hobbes and places her in his father’s hands.

  Dominic’s face instantly softens. He looks down, startled, before burying his nose in the kitten’s fur, just as Emma had. The kitten starts to purr like an engine, clearly making her own bid for Dominic’s compliance.

  Emma catches Jesse’s eye. Bold move, she mouths approvingly.

  Jesse shrugs, as if he can always be relied on to know the right thing to do when it comes to his father.

  “Whose kitten is this?” says Dominic. “It’s adorable, but I mean, I don’t know . . . Jesse, we need to talk about this.”

  “It’s not mine. It’s Emma’s. But she said she’d share it with me. And it’s not an it, it’s a her. Her name is Hobbes and she’s really Emma’s, but mine, too. And we bought a cat flap and Emma says I can come over anytime and play with the kitten, and please, Dad, say it’s okay? Please? It’s the only thing I’ve ever really, really wanted.”

  Dominic pauses. But not for as long as Emma might have expected. “Okay,” he says, his eyes still lit up at the tiny kitten in his hands. “She’s adorable. Hobbes. Sorry. Hobbes is adorable.” He raises an eyebrow at Jesse, who nods in delight. “Hobbes as in Calvin and Hobbes?”

  Jesse nods, and Dominic glances at Emma. “Figures,” he says to her. “His favorite comic strip for years.” Now he meets her gaze squarely. “I’m fine with you having a cat. I guess. I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

  Emma doesn’t know what to say, but he doesn’t look angry.

  Then he surprises her by saying, “Do you want me to put the cat flap in for you?”

  “That would be fantastic.” She suddenly feels shy, touched by his easy acceptance of her impulsive cat-rescuing. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” His tone now is quiet, and more serious, too. “Thank you for looking after Jesse. Obviously the two of you had a good time.”

  “It was the best,” says Jesse. “And we stopped for ice cream on—” His face falls and he turns toward the houses. “I mean, nothing. We didn’t have ice cream. We drove by the ice cream place and said maybe we’d come back after lunch. Right?” He turns to Emma with a warning glance.

  “Absolutely,” says Emma, who doesn’t point out the chocolate drips all the way down his red T-shirt, drips that his father is looking at right now with wry amusement.

  “So you didn’t have any ice cream, huh?” Dominic says.

  “Nope.” Jesse shakes his head with great vigor. “I know I’m not allowed to eat ice cream until after lunch.”

  “So those brown stains on your T-shirt? Is that . . .” Dominic leans forward and examines them. “Coffee? Have you been drinking coffee?”

  “I just let him have a tiny sip,” says Emma. “I’m so sorry. He spilled my coffee all down his T-shirt. Right, Jesse?”

  “I’m really sorry, Dad. It was hot and I spilled.”

  Dominic grins. “It’s okay, buddy. Come on. Let’s get Hobbes inside and get this cat flap installed. And it seems there may be some new shelves that need putting up?”

  • • •

  The rest of the day is punctuated by the intermittent sounds of the drill as Dominic installs the cat flap in the back door, before putting the shelves up in the kitchen, Emma handing him each drill bit or bracket as he needs it. Jesse spends his time playing with the kitten, rolling up strips of aluminum foil into balls and shrieking with delight as Hobbes bats them into the corners of the room, sliding across the floor as she skids toward them.

  “If I’d known a kitten would make him forget about the iPad,” Dominic says, whispering under his breath, “I would have gotten him one years ago.”

  Emma smiles as she unwraps hardware and hands it to him. “It’s not about what happened,” she says. “It’s what happens next.” She blushes slightly, realizing how this comment, one of her standard lines, could be misinterpreted.

  “So what happens next in your life?” says Dominic, reaching up to position a shelf. His T-shirt rides up, exposing the tanned skin on his stomach and waist, and Emma, flushed with guilt for noticing, quickly looks away.

  “What do you mean? Work? Well, I just posted some stuff today about helping people out with interior design. Hopefully that will lead to something.”

  Dominic glances at her with a grin. “I didn’t mean work. How does a woman like you end up single? Who’s the unlucky guy who let you get away?”

  In anyone else, Emma would think it was a leading question, but from Dominic, who is so comfortable with who he is, it is entirely natural that he would say whatever is on his mind. “Do you say that to all your tenants?” Emma laughs. “Is that your way of flirting with me?”

  “Only a little,” says Dominic. “I can’t help it. I’m Italian. It’s my way of making friends. But seriously, you seem like you should be married with a couple of kids, baking chocolate chip cookies for the school bake sale.”

  “You know, I really think you should have quit while you were ahead,” says Emma. “You went straight from saying I was cute to comparing me to a suburban housewife from the last century.”

  “Listen, some of these local housewives are hot. I’m tel
ling you, I would never say anything derogatory about housewives.”

  “So it was a compliment?”

  “Absolutely. But you are single, right? I assumed you were only because there are no comings and goings here.”

  Emma sighs. “One of the downsides of having your landlord live next door.”

  “Maybe, but look at the upsides!” He gestures to the shelves.

  “Granted. No, there are no men right now. There have been too many recent changes in my life for me to focus on relationships. I just need to settle into my new life before I’m ready for that stuff.”

  “When you are ready, you just let me know. I’ll tell you all the places to go to meet the single men, which nights, and what to avoid.”

  “The Fat Hen?” She is joking, but she feels a slight pang. Suddenly she’s not sure she wants Dominic to send her off to meet the single men.

  “Nah. You don’t want to meet men at the Hen. Not the kind of men you’d want to spend quality time with. I might be the bartender, but in all honesty I’d have to say that.”

  Emma pauses, not sure she should be asking, but she wants to know; now seems like the perfect time. “How about you? You’re dating Gina?” She tries to make the question seem casual. Light. As if she doesn’t much care.

  “Dating.” He seems to muse over the word. “I hadn’t even really thought of it as dating. Gina isn’t really someone you date. I guess you could just say we’re hanging out together. We’ve known each other a long time. It’s . . . fun.”

  “Sometimes the relationships that grow out of long friendships are the very best of all,” says Emma.

  Dominic laughs. “This is definitely not a relationship. I’m not even sure that it’s fun a lot of the time. Gina is one tough woman, but . . .” He shrugs. “It is what it is.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means it’s fine for right now. Neither of us wants anything more serious.”

  “Men always say that. But I find invariably the women do want something more serious. A man always thinks that he’s on the same page as the woman he’s with, then wonders why she’s so devastated when he says, ‘Let’s both go back to being friends.’”

  Dominic is amused. “You sound like you have bitter experience.”

  “No,” she says. “It’s just that I think you’re wrong about Gina. I think she’s more interested in you than you think. She definitely seemed interested enough to be unfriendly to other women.”

  “You?”

  “And Sophie.”

  “Don’t take it personally. Gina doesn’t like women. Especially if they’re pretty. If you weighed four hundred pounds she would have loved you.”

  Emma laughs as her phone buzzes, a text from Sophie, which she excuses herself to read, realizing that it isn’t just her phone buzzing, but her whole body. Is she imagining it, or is there real chemistry between them? She hadn’t expected it, wasn’t looking for it, but now that it is here, it seems to be making her feel more alive; at any rate, it is making her smile.

  Rob’s on a last-minute trip and my mom’s babysitting Jackson. Want to go out tonight?

  Emma reads the text and thinks to herself, Yes. She does need a night out. There are only so many nights binge-watching shows on Netflix that a girl can take. She needs to go out with a friend and have a couple of drinks and have some fun.

  “Dominic? You know how you just said you’d tell me the fun places to go in town? I don’t think I’m quite ready to go hunting for a man, but I am ready for a girls’ night out, and you clearly know all the right places. If we wanted to have some fun, where would we go?”

  “That was quick!” he says, before insisting she get her phone back out and make a list of all the places they should go.

  TEN

  It is a gorgeous, balmy summer night. Emma asked Jesse to kitty-sit while she’s out, and already she can hear him crooning at Hobbes to try to entice her from behind the sofa as Emma finishes getting ready.

  She is wearing a white floaty dress that shows off her tan. Her hair is down, tumbling around her shoulders in beachy waves. Skinny gold hoops are in her ears, and a long beaded necklace with a tiny seed pearl tassel falls to her waist. She has sprayed a shimmery golden oil on her shoulders, her chest, and down her arms, and is glowing as she steps into the living room before leaving to pick up Sophie.

  “Wow,” says Dominic, seemingly stunned into silence as he looks at her approvingly. She didn’t expect Dominic to be there. Jesse had wolfed down a grilled cheese sandwich in her kitchen before crawling across the living room to extract Hobbes from behind the sofa, never mentioning that his dad might be dropping in. She knew Dominic would come over after she left to watch Jesse but thought he’d wait until she was gone. She was aware of a vague disappointment that he wouldn’t see her looking so pretty. She knows she looks pretty only because she feels pretty, prettier than she has felt in ages, and she registers a tiny thrill that he is seeing her looking her absolute best. Why she cares about what Dominic thinks is not something she is willing to think about just yet.

  “I’m just bringing Jesse his juice box,” says Dominic, sitting on her sofa and looking away, gesturing to the small box on the table before looking back at her with a slight shake of his head. “You look amazing.”

  “Thank you!” If Emma wasn’t glowing before, she lights up at the compliment. She grabs a small straw clutch and slips her feet into strappy wedges. “Is this the right look for the place you recommended?”

  “You’re going to blow them away.”

  Emma smiles her way out of the house, into the car, over to Sophie’s house, and all the way to Southport, the smile, the buzz, the glow never leaving her.

  “Why are you so gorgeous and smiley?” asks Sophie when she gets in the car.

  “I don’t know,” says Emma. “I’m just happy.”

  And she is.

  “I don’t get it,” Sophie keeps saying, glancing over at her friend as they drive over to the bar. “Did you do something?”

  “What do you mean, did I do something? Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Did you have a facial? Did you change . . . I don’t know, something? You look ridiculously gorgeous tonight.”

  Emma snuggles farther down in her seat, unable to wipe the smile from her face. “I think it’s leading a stress-free life. Honestly. I feel like a different person since I moved out here and gave up my job. Sophie, I love living by the beach. There’s something about the light there that is completely and utterly magical. I wake up every morning feeling happy, and . . . I think that’s it. It’s just my new life.” She’s not ready to admit, even to her closest friend, that she is starting to realize there is something about her landlord that she can’t quite shake. It isn’t an obvious attraction, but the more she sees him, the more he seems to be growing on her. His kindness, his comfort in his skin, his ease in the world. All of it makes Emma feel safe.

  Sophie peers at her with disbelief. “Are you sure you’re not in love or something? Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  Emma frowns. “There isn’t,” she says after a pause. “But there is. I know that doesn’t make sense, but I think I might be feeling something with Dominic. I’m just not quite sure what it is.”

  Sophie’s eyes widen. “What does that mean? You’re attracted to him? Not that I’m surprised, but I didn’t think you were interested. God knows you’ve spent enough time telling me you’re not.”

  “I wasn’t. I don’t know what this is. I just feel . . . calm . . . when he’s around. And I find myself smiling in anticipation at the thought of seeing him. I like seeing him. I’m starting to want to see him more and more. And I really don’t know what any of this means.”

  Sophie leans back. “I knew it. The very fact that you kept saying he wasn’t your type at all means he’s your type. Of course he’s your type. He
’s everyone’s type. He’s like, manliness personified.”

  “What’s the matter with you?” says Emma, laughing. “Manliness personified? Have you been taking drugs? He’s not manliness personified!” She cracks up. “He builds a terrible bookshelf, for your information. Although I do admit the kitchen shelves were slightly better, and the cat flap is really quite good.”

  “Cat flap?”

  “Ah, yes,” says Emma. “I knew there was something else I hadn’t told you. Jesse and I got a cat today.”

  Sophie starts to laugh. “Jesse and I? Okay. That’s it. You’re already part of the family.”

  “I’m really not,” says Emma. “I just babysat him today and we went to the Humane Society and ended up with a cat. I feel for this little kid. He’s very grown-up for his age, you know—he’s only six—and he clearly adores his father. I can’t imagine what he’s gone through, being abandoned by his mother.” Her face is serious, almost tearful as she thinks about Jesse, his closeness to his father, the incredibly close relationship they have.

  “Did you find out any more about what happened?”

  “Not yet. But I’m sure I will. I’m sure it’s good for him to have a woman around who does nice things for him.”

  “Unlike that awful woman his dad’s banging?”

  “Sophie, don’t be crass. But yes.” She smiles. “Unlike that awful woman his dad’s banging. Apparently, however, that relationship is not serious.”

  Sophie shoots her a sideways glance. “He told you that? Well, of course he did. How could it be serious when he has a beautiful, talented, single woman living next door who makes that girl look like an old tramp? He’s totally falling for you.”

  “Okay, stop,” says Emma. “Seriously. I love you but I’m not ready to project into the future. He’s lovely, and I’m happy, and we need to sit back and just let this unfold the way it is supposed to.” She gives her friend a hard stare. “If it is supposed to. Meanwhile, let’s go and have some fun. What are we drinking?”