Chapter 3–She’s Up to Something

Friday night was the monthly “family dinner” at Abby and Jackson’s house. “The family” consisted of 7 people: Abby and Jackson, Emma, Greg and Caitlin, and Lauryn and Sam.  Lauryn and Caitlin had been hall mates and neighbors with Abby and Emma throughout college. Sam had been Jackson’s roommate.  These 6 had known each for 12 years now, since their freshman year of college. Lauryn and Sam were the first couple. They had started dating sophomore year and gotten married the day after graduation. Abby and Jackson started dating senior year, but didn’t get married until 3 years later.  Greg met Caitlin while working at the same summer camp for disadvantaged kids one year. They married between the other two couples. Andrew was the latest addition to the group, rounding it out to an even 8.  Emma was very grateful that so many of her college friends had ended up in Atlanta; they really did serve as a surrogate family for her while her own was so far away. She was a Yankee transplant who had come South for college and decided to stay.  

            Emma got off work earlier than anyone else, so she always arrived about half an hour early to help Abby prepare the table. She was surprised to see Andrew’s car in the driveway as she pulled up to the house. She retrieved her spinach salad from the back seat and walked into the house without knocking. As she headed straight back to the kitchen, she nearly collided with Abby who emerged suddenly from the bedroom hallway.

            “Oh, hey!” Abby greeted her with enthusiasm. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Oh, good, you brought the salad.” Abby whisked the bowl out of Emma’s hands and whirled it into the kitchen before Emma could even respond.

            That was weird, thought Emma. What’s she so hyper about? She followed Abby to the kitchen suspiciously. Abby didn’t make eye contact as she began bustling around the counter, laying out plates and silverware. She asked Emma if she would set the table on the back porch.

            “Sure. Everything okay? You seem kind of jumpy,” Emma observed.

            “Yeah, everything’s fine. I guess maybe I had too much caffeine this afternoon or something.”

It was a very poorly veiled brush off, but Emma didn’t confront it head on. She was not sure whether to be curious or concerned by Abby’s state of frenzy. Heading out the sliding glass door to the patio, Emma found Andrew lighting the grill. He turned as he heard the door open.

“Hey,” he smiled. “How’s it goin’?”

“Good, thanks. You’re early,” Emma noted, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, Abby asked me to come hang out and give Jackson a hand with the grill. Plus, I just finished a big project at work, so my boss didn’t mind me taking the afternoon off.  I got here about an hour ago.”

“Has Jackson been cleared for normal activity yet?” Perhaps that was the reason for Abby’s jitters. But, where was Jackson? Emma didn’t remember seeing his suburban in the garage.

“Not quite. But he’s feeling a lot better. I think he’s chomping at the bit to get back to his regular activities.” Andrew blew out his match and came to help Emma fold the napkins and lay out silverware.

“Well, that’s not surprising,” Emma chuckled. “Jackson is the most active person I know. Where is he, anyway?”

“Abby sent him to the store to pick up dessert or something.”

“That’s odd. She’s usually got dessert planned out days ahead of time.”

“Maybe it was just to give him something to do, so he could feel useful and get out of the house for a bit.”

“Yeah, maybe. Does she seem off-kilter to you?” Emma looked into the kitchen, her brow furrowed. Abby was smiling widely, despite the fact that there was no music on and no one in the room, while she lifted the chicken breasts out of the marinade and laid them on a platter to be taken to the grill. Something was definitely up.

“Uh, I don’t know. She’s definitely in a good mood,” Andrew responded noncommittally.

“Clearly,” Emma replied. That’s a drastic understatement, she thought. What was Abby hiding? She always got a nervous energy about her when she had a secret, which consequently didn’t ever last long. She gave herself away too easily. So, what was the big secret? She seemed to have avoided Emma since she got there. Was Andrew here to run interference so Emma couldn’t get Abby alone? Abby caught Emma’s eye briefly, blushed, and quickly left the kitchen. What in the world? What is she happy and embarrassed about?

“Ahem.” Andrew cleared his throat rather amusedly from across the table. Emma turned toward him and found him watching her with an amused grin, having set all the plates and flatware without her. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” he said. “Anyway, she’ll come clean when she’s ready to…which probably won’t be long. She’s horrible at keeping secrets, especially good ones.” Emma followed him into the kitchen to retrieve the glasses and the chicken.

“I know. I guess she’ll tell me when she’s ready,” Emma reluctantly conceded. Andrew chuckled faintly at the tone of disappointment in her voice.  Before Emma had time to wonder where Abby had disappeared to, she heard the sink running in the powder room.  Abby came back into the kitchen, still smiling brightly. She toned it down slightly as she saw Emma watching her with narrowed eyes.  “We’re almost done setting the table and the grill is heating up. What else do you need me to do?” Emma asked innocently enough.

“Oh, I’m all done in here. I just have to pour the sweet tea into a jug. You can help Andy with the chicken until Jack gets back. Ooo, Andrew, did you tell Emma about the opportunity you got to create the artwork for the new cafe?” Abby quickly redirected the attention to Andrew while Emma gathered the glasses onto a tray. “It’s such a compliment and honor that you were asked. Emma enjoys interior design. I’m sure she’d love to hear about your plans.” She sounded like she was setting people up at a cocktail party or something. She was actually holding the back door open, practically shooing them out the door with her body language.

“How interesting,” Emma responded as she followed him Andy out the door and threw Abby a scrutinizing glare.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty cool opportunity,” Andrew began. “My best friend and his wife are opening a new café, and they asked me to create the wall art. I’m just starting to work up some concepts. But, I didn’t know you were into design…”

Yep, Andrew is definitely here to run interference. Whatever this is, it must be big, Emma decided. Unless… Emma froze as she reached the table, tray still in hand. She watched Andrew lay the chicken breasts neatly across the grill, and then glanced back at Abby again—who had been watching them but quickly looked away and began pouring the tea from the pot into a water jug. No! It can’t possibly be! Abby can’t be trying to set me up with Andrew? She hasn’t tried to set me up for years now, and—Andrew of all people?! He was Abby’s brother, for crying out loud, and far too young for her. Surely Abby could see that. Would Abby make such a huge move without even consulting Emma? Emma’s heart dropped into her stomach, and she temporarily forgot to inhale.

A thousand scenarios began racing through her mind—all of them ending in the demise of the easy comfort of their “family.”  What if Abby became too obvious about her bright idea at dinner tonight? How could Emma give her a strong signal about her aversion to the idea without appearing to snub Andrew? She wasn’t sure how Abby would take it if Emma balked at the idea of dating Andrew. On the other hand, though, if she placated her by playing along, how disappointed would Abby be when it didn’t go anywhere? And how uncomfortable for Andrew when he figured it out! Was there any way to escape mortification for everyone involved?

“Something wrong with the table? You look like you’ve just seen a cockroach.” Andrew’s voice reminded Emma to inhale and that she was still standing there, holding the glasses. She rushed to place the glasses at each place setting, making minimal eye contact. “Sorry, just got lost in thought for a moment,” she explained. She would have to be the Queen of Obliviousness. It had been a while since Emma had needed to play this role, but she was pretty sure she could still pull it off. “So, how does one assist at the grill exactly, anyway?”

“Well, I think that’s generally considered code for ‘get out from underfoot in the kitchen.’ But you can pass me the plates in a few minutes when the chicken is ready,” Andrew responded nonchalantly.

“Oh, no problem,” Emma responded quickly. Maybe he was an innocent party in this set-up. “Hey, listen, thanks again for being my wingman at Debbie’s wedding. Sorry I lectured you so much about relationships on the way back.” She tried to emphasize the word lectured to subtly emphasize her seniority.

“Oh, no worries! I didn’t mind at all. It was kinda cool actually, getting an inside tour of the female mind. Sort of like having another sister to talk to, only one who doesn’t know everything about me.”

Aha! He sees me as an older sister, as he should. What can Abby possibly be thinking? Emma worried. “Well, feel free to seek me out for advice anytime. It is sort of my job, after all. You’ll just have to put up with my educator delivery methods.”

Emma began trying to devise schemes to deflect Abby’s enthusiasm about Andrew as a potential mate until she could get her alone. Before she had come up with anything definitive, Lauryn and Sam arrived, shortly followed by Caitlin and Greg.

Finally, Jackson came back and placed a bakery box on the counter before coming to take Emma’s place at the grill. Emma joined Cait and Lauryn at the table.

“What’s up with Abby?” Lauryn immediately inquired, in a somewhat hushed voice. Emma took a seat next to her, at the end of the table so that Abby couldn’t seat Andrew next to her.

“I don’t know. She said she had a lot of caffeine today or something,” Emma hedged, trying to sound unconcerned.

“She’s goofy-happy,” Cait observed. Not for long, thought Emma.

            Once everyone else was seated, there was only one spot open for Andrew—directly across from Emma. Emma made up her mind to focus her eye contact on whoever was talking rather than in front of her. After Jackson said grace, and the food was passed around, Emma commenced defensive tactics of anticipating potentially dangerous topics of conversation and redirecting them. The men were, of course, completely oblivious to the almost tangible warmth and glow emanating from Abby’s end of the table—even though Sam was sitting right next to her. Fortunately, the guys dominated the conversation initially with shop talk, analyses of recent sporting events, and status updates on Jackson’s injury.

            Meanwhile, Caitlin threw occasional raised eyebrows in the direction of Lauryn and Emma whenever Abby seemed to laugh too loudly at comments or fidgeted in her seat. Lauryn actually elbowed Emma at one point when Abby dropped the bread basket into the potato salad while taking a roll. They were definitely on the hunt to find out the root of these jitters. Every time Abby made eye contact with Emma, she smiled and looked quickly back at her plate. Emma knew Caitlin and Lauryn were going to jump at the first break in conversation to ask Abby what was going on. Just keep talking boys, Emma silently encouraged. She contributed follow-up questions and background inquiries as often as possible without appearing too unnaturally interested in college ball or computer programs.

            Eventually, however, the boys contented themselves and focused their attention on their taste buds. Before Caitlin could direct the conversation to Abby, Emma interjected by asking her how her side photography business was progressing. Caitlin was a stay at home mom with her 3-year-old son, Cameron, but she was a gifted photographer. She had begun selling greeting cards with her photos of local landscapes and landmarks, and was beginning to develop a freelance business with weddings, graduations, and such.  After Caitlin described some new clients and jobs, Emma plied Lauryn for an update about Conner who was four and had just started a summer pre-school program. He was always coming home with new stories or trying out new words he didn’t quite understand yet. Emma was rapidly running out of topics.

            “I hear you have a birthday coming up in a couple of weeks,” Sam observed casually, but with a small twinkle in his eye. “Any big plans?”

            Aha! An opportunity to give Abby a reality check without being rudely inattentive to Andrew. “Yes,” Emma groaned dramatically. “Thirty! Can you believe it? I’m practically middle-aged! I can’t believe I’m completely done with my 20’s already. I’m sort of in mourning for my lost youth.”

            Andrew laughed lightheartedly. “Should we start researching retirement homes, then?”

            “Emma, thirty is not ancient,” Lauryn interjected, rolling her eyes and giving Emma an affectionate jab in the ribs. “We’re all 30…except for Andrew. And Caitlin, technically, but only for another six months.”

            “I know, and I’m almost as old as you all.” Emma pretended be horrified as she shoved her back lightly.

            “Ha, ha.” Lauryn replied. Abby observed all of this with enjoyment, but no sign of rethinking or a need to interject.

Oh come on, she can’t have missed that! Emma thought in exasperation. Seriously?! That was beyond a mere hint. For a moment, she wondered if she had misread Abby’s behavior and jumped to the wrong conclusion about her preoccupation.

            “Jackson?” Abby suddenly spoke, interrupting Emma’s doubts. “I think it’s time for dessert.” She had a look of triumph, anticipation, and relief all in one expression.

            “I agree,” Jackson smiled back. They both got up and retired to the kitchen while Andrew collected the dinner plates to take them to the sink. Abby came back out, carrying dessert plates, followed by Jackson who was carrying a box from Publix bakery. The bakery box did not have the usual clear plastic hole in the middle of the lid so that you could see the contents.

            “That’s not a birthday cake, is it?” Sam asked suspiciously. “She’s got a little time left to be 29, and you may have noticed that she’s more than a little attached to it.” He smirked at Emma.

            “I suppose it is an early birthday cake of sorts, but it’s not for Emma,” Abby said very cryptically. She was making no attempt to hide her beaming happiness now.

            Jackson placed the cake on the table and lifted the lid off with a dramatic flourish. Everyone leaned in to see the big secret. In the center of the cake was a large stork, carrying a green bundle of cloth with a tiny hand sticking out. The border of the cake was sprinkled with candy rattles and baby booties. It took all of two seconds for the table to process the meaning and erupt in excitement.

            “You’re pregnant?!” Lauryn and Caitlin squealed simultaneously, jumping out of their seats to hug Abby. Emma’s jaw dropped and she was frozen to her seat for a moment, stunned by happiness for Abby and instantly forgetting everything else.

            “Congrats, man!” Sam punched Jackson in the arm before giving him a firm handshake.

            “How far along?” Caitlin asked.

            “About four weeks,” Abby replied, obviously relieved and elated to finally have the secret out.

            “Four weeks!” Emma exclaimed in disbelief. “You kept a secret from me for a whole month?! You never keep secrets from me, even when you want to!”

            “I know,” Abby laughed loudly. “Thank goodness we found out in May, so you were distracted with graduation and final exams. If we hadn’t had Debbie’s wedding to talk about last Saturday, you would have wriggled it out of me for sure. I knew you wouldn’t be as easily distracted tonight, so I enlisted Andrew’s help to keep you from spoiling the surprise. I’ve been dying to tell you,” she finished, embracing Emma with a firm bear hug. As Emma squeezed back, she made eye contact with Andrew over Abby’s shoulder.

            “So, you’re the star defense, huh?” she asked playfully. He winked.

            “You run a pretty determined offense,” he complimented. Everyone laughed.

            “Except for at dinner,” Abby observed, turning toward Emma with contracted brow. “You suddenly seemed interested in everyone but me. I thought maybe you had figured it out.”

            Shoot! Think fast, Emma coached herself. “No, I had no idea. I was afraid maybe you had something else up your sleeve—like a surprise birthday party.” Phew.

            “She wouldn’t dare!” Sam declared solemnly. Everyone laughed again and resumed their seats. Andrew cut the cake while Abby and Jackson filled everyone in on due dates, ultrasounds, and the like.

After a pleasant and joyous evening, everyone headed home with full tummies and hearts. Although, if she were completely honest, Emma’s heart was not entirely filled with joy. There was something like a sadness in the thought that life as she knew it was about to change yet again, and that her best friend in the world was about to become less available and less involved in her life. There wouldn’t be too many more months of Saturday walks, or long, uninterrupted phone chats. Also, there was something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something related to being not just the only single female left in her circle of friends, but also the only childless one. Emma had never been eager to be a mother. But, somehow, the family seemed to be shifting again, and she felt a heaviness in her chest as she felt a familiar foe growing in numbers: loneliness.

Chapter 2–Walk It Off

 Emma changed into her sweats and grabbed her copy of Pride and Prejudice and drove to the park. She always took a book with her when meeting up with people, in case she got there early—which she almost always did. Elizabeth Bennett was about to berate Mr. Darcy for his arrogance when Abby pulled into the parking spot next to Emma for their semi-regular Saturday morning walk.

            “How many times are you going to read that? What is this, like the 5th time since I’ve known you?” Abby asked when Emma got out of the car.

            “Well, it’s a really good book.  And, besides, Lizzie is an inspiration,” Emma said defensively. “I find her company uplifting.”  They approached the edge of Emma’s favorite trail which wound through the woods along the lake’s edge, emerged into the park, and then circled around to a small marina and beach area. “She’s confident and sure of who she is without being cocky.  I suppose it gives me hope that love finds her unexpectedly, without her having to parade herself about like the other women in her community.”

            “I see,” said Abby. “I’ve never seen you throwing yourself at anyone either. Sounds like she’s a kindred spirit.”

“Hmm, on second thought, maybe I need a different inspiration,” Emma quipped. “This whole cool and confident thing doesn’t seem to be working out so well or me.”

Abby laughed. “I don’t know, it sounds like it served you well at Deb’s wedding. Andrew said you handled it quite nicely.”

            ” It wasn’t as bad as I expected. She didn’t even have a bouquet toss.”

            “God bless her,” Abby remarked with exaggerated sincerity.

            “I know. There’s nothing worse than being rounded up like a collection of unclaimed baggage for auction.  And then, you have to watch some perfectly toned 16-year-old catch the bouquet.  If she’s the next one to get married, I’m really in trouble!” Emma laughed, but not very convincingly.

            “It’s just a silly tradition. It doesn’t actually predict anything, you know,” Abby chuckled.

            “Just the same, I think brides over a certain age shouldn’t submit their peers to the spectacle.”

            “Or, they could just put in an age limit. Only single girls over 25,” Abby suggested.

            “Right,” Emma scornfully snorted. “With my luck, I’d be the only one out there and I still wouldn’t catch it.”

            “So, was there any awkwardness with the reception?”

            “Yeah, but it was just the usual—stupefied shock that an eligible girl in the big city should still be single.  Andrew helped to deflect some of the attention.” Emma wondered if Andrew had told Abby about the car ride home. She had decided that she wouldn’t say anything if he hadn’t. She wasn’t sure how much of his dating life he’d shared with Abby.

            “Oh, did he? He can be pretty good at rescuing people in hot water.” Abby smiled reminiscently. “He’s come to my aid many times over the years with mom and dad. So, it wasn’t lonely? That was my goal. I was a little afraid that appearing to be on a date might be worse than being alone.”  Abby knew that Emma got a little depressed driving home from weddings.

            “Yeah. I was afraid of that, too. But someone appears to have tipped everyone off to the fact that he was your stand-in before we got there. Thanks for that,” Emma nudged Abby gratefully. “I forgot how easy Andrew is to be around. He’s quite the conversationalist. It was almost as good as having you there.”

            “Well, I’m glad. But tell me the truth, did you cry when you got home?”

            Emma groaned in disgust at herself. “Yes, but not until later that night. I thought I had successfully avoided crying altogether, but when I pulled out my journal before bed, it just came out of nowhere. Then I felt stupid for crying, which only made it worse, of course. I wound up crying about the fact that I was crying.”

            Abby put her arm around Emma’s waist as they walked and cupped her chin around Emma’s shoulder. “It’s not stupid,” she said quietly but firmly. “It’s totally normal. All girls cry over weddings.”

            “Sure, tears of joy. I never feel like crying at the wedding because I’m so happy for my friends and proud to share the moment with them. The joy is sort of contagious. It’s only afterwards, when I leave that moment behind, that I feel empty—almost like I’m more aware of being alone than I was before. But it’s so pointless and full of self-pity that I feel ridiculous for it. I should just be happy for them and let it be enough.”

            “I think it is enough for you, Em. You’re able to rejoice with your friends when they’re rejoicing—so much so that you don’t even notice your own pain until later.. Of course, you will have your own feelings, too, and that’s normal.”

            “I think I would be perfectly content if I knew that someday I would know what it feels like to love someone that much. It’s having no concrete hope that hurts. I can live patiently and contentedly on hope. I have for a decade or more, but I’m beginning to run out of hope.”

            “Oh don’t say that!” Abby hated hearing Emma talk like this. Emma had always been strong, independent, and confident girl with her eyes fixed on personal growth and serving others. She’d never seemed to struggle much with being single until about a year ago. Abby suspected that Emma’s upcoming 30th birthday had a lot to do with it. They emerged from the trees to the park. The picnic tables were still empty, but a few young children were being pushed on the swing set by their mothers, and a couple of joggers were running towards them from the other side of the park. “He’s out there somewhere; I know he is. You’ll fall in love someday, and it will be a meaningful, deep relationship. I know it.”

            “You mean you hope for it,” Emma replied without much emotion. “You can’t really know it, though, can you?”

            “Well, alright then,” Abby conceded. “I fully expect that it will happen. I can feel it in my bones.”

            “Maybe you’re right. I’m just afraid that, even if it does happen, I’ll be too old to enjoy it.” The two joggers passed them on the sidewalk—a young man and woman who appeared to be a couple, both wearing earphones and perfectly matching each other’s pace and breathing. Emma watched them as they passed and wondered what it would be like to be so close to someone that you could be in sync like that even without talking—like one unit.

            “Emma!” Abby protested and brought her back to the conversation. “You’re not old! You’re the same age as me!”

            “I know, but it’s different when you’re single. I realized something at Debbie’s wedding. I’m never going to know what it’s like to be married in my 20’s—a young, married couple. I may not be old, but I’ve already missed out on sharing my youth with someone.”  This was more than Emma had admitted out loud before, and her voice grew quiet at the end of the sentence.

            “Hey, you’re young at heart. And you still have some youth left to share with someone. He just has to find you first is all.” Abby patted Emma’s arm.

            Emma looked out over the lake at the sunlight glinting off the water. “Yeah, you’re right,” she said to appease Abby. “Isn’t the lake beautiful? It’s so calming. I love the water.” They had reached the point in the conversation where she always had to stop. She could only share her struggle with singleness up to a certain point with people because anyone who had married before 30 just couldn’t relate.

            Emma had never let herself dwell on her singleness before. It had seemed so wasteful to focus on what she didn’t have. But seemingly out of nowhere, it had just snuck up on her: THIRTY. Now that it was only a few months away, all the thoughts she hadn’t let herself dwell on for the past decade were making up for lost time. Her 20’s were over. She couldn’t get them back. It was almost like a death of sorts. Whenever she had imagined her wedding day (on the rare occasion that she let herself) or her first few years of marriage, she had always seen herself in her mid to late 20’s. And now they were over, and she wasn’t even dating. Suddenly, the last 10 years looked bleak, pathetic, and wasted. They hadn’t felt that way at the time, but she had suddenly awakened to find a stark, harsh truth—She was alone. She had spent her 20’s alone, and it seemed she would spend her 30’s the same way. Nothing she had invested her life in for the past decase was going to stay with her, and no one would remember it know how it shaped her. Abby couldn’t understand that. It was better to just keep some things to herself. She had let a select few people know she was struggling, but they didn’t have to know how much.

            “Anyway, how is Jackson doing? I forgot to ask.” Emma asked after a few seconds of silence, to change the subject.

            “Oh, much better! The doctor said he just needs to avoid heavy lifting and strenuous activity for a few weeks until the bone heals. It was only a minor fracture. So, he’s sticking to the treadmill for a while.”

            “I guess we won’t be playing volleyball on Friday, then.” Abby had scheduled her monthly “family dinner” for the following week, which normally included Emma and a few other friends from their college gang, who were all married to each other now. Andrew was a recent addition since he had moved to Atlanta for work last fall.

            “Nope. I figured we’d just play board games instead.”

            “Sounds good to me. Just as long as we don’t play Monopoly again. I don’t’ have the stamina to wait for Jackson to buy me out.”

            Abby giggled. Once in college they had played Monopoly, and the game had lasted three hours! Jackson was far too competitive to call a game before it was actually over.  Emma had even tried donating her properties to Jackson’s conquest. He had, of course, insisted on “legally” buying everyone out of their holdings.

            Soon, they were back at the parking lot. Emma felt invigorated and much more awake. “See you Friday, then,” she said. “Tell Jackson I’m glad he’s not seriously hurt.”

            “Okay. Have a good weekend,” Abby called back.

Emma tried hard not to think about turning 30 the whole drive home, and by the time she pulled into her driveway, she had successfully convinced herself that she was only 29 still. Maybe the exercise endorphins were helping.