Page 117 of Blitzing Emily

She got up from the table, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I still love him,” she whispered.

“Maybe you should tell me something I don’t know.”

Her father’s voice was warm as his arms surrounded her. He had the comforting father smells she remembered—coffee, starch in his shirt, and aftershave. He laid his scratchy cheek against the top of her head. Her position was a little awkward as she stooped, but his embrace was soothing.

“I hate the thought of his ever being with anyone else,” she said.

“That’s not fair. You’re both adults. Of course you’d have relationships before you met each other.”

“I miss him.”

“Maybe you should tell him that,” her dad said. “You know, he probably feels worse about this than you do.”

“What do I do if he—”

“What happens if you do something he’s going to have to forgiveyoufor?”

Emily stood up. She had to be hearing things.

“You’re defending him.”

“He’s all right. We’ve talked a couple of times.”

She looked into her father’s face. “You didn’t like him,” she insisted.

“No, that’s not it. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t playing around.” He shook his head a bit. “I don’t want my little girl marrying just anyone. I don’t care if he’s in the NFL. He doesn’t scare me.”

Emily heard her mother bustling around the kitchen, the reassuring sounds of her footsteps, the oven door opening, and the delicious scents of a meal cooking. She sank into the chair next to her dad again. They sat at the same kitchen table they had owned since she was a child. She was doing things she’d done hundreds of times in her life before, but things were new and different today. Her dad took her hand.

“You need to make this right. Tell him you love him, and you’re sorry you fought. He’ll take care of the rest.”

She took another sip of her soda. “I hope so.”

“He will,” her father insisted. He squeezed her hand.

“Do you have a few minutes right now?” Emily asked.

He stroked her cheek. “Dinner’s not ready yet.”

Emily’s insides were knotting, but if she was going to find out once and for all what happened to their family, there was no time like the present. She led him into the family room. They sat down on the couch. She stared at her shoes for a moment. Suddenly, she was a confused fifteen-year old who wanted to hold her parents together with whatever means she had. Fear rose inside her like the waves battering the shore after a storm, but she had to know.

“Dad, when you and Mom called it quits, what happened?”

“Punkin, are you sure you want to discuss this?”

Emily nodded.

He rubbed his chin with a free hand, and slid his arm around the back of the couch. “I wasn’t home much. As a result, your mom and I fought a lot. Instead of talking about it, it was easier to leave. I thought she’d be happier with someone else.” His voice dropped. “It was my fault.”

“I don’t understand how it could get to that point. You still loved each other. You never talked?” Emily said.

They sat silently for a while. The anniversary clock on the mantel ticked. Finally, she gathered every bit of courage it took to ask. “Was there someone else?”

“For your mom, no. For me, never.”

“You never cheated.” She picked at a loose thread in the couch cushion. She concentrated on pulling breath into her lungs. He gave her a squeeze.

“There’s never been anyone else for me but your mom, and there never will be.”

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