Page 35 of Fixing Emilee

“Whoa. What’s this for? Are you okay?” Her question is muffled by my shoulder, but I hear the worry in her voice as loud as if she is screaming it. Her grip on me is just as tight as mine is on her.

“Yes, I’m fine. I just needed a hug and wanted you to know I love you,” I reply as more tears fall down my face.

“Awe, Em. I love you too.” She sniffs because we both are emotional tater tots sometimes. Pulling back, I wipe my face, and she does the same. A small smile lifts her lips as she restarts the song and says, “Let’s go get beautified for our hot ass men.” My body is thrown back as she hits the gas and takes off.

I cringe at her words, and a groan leaves me. “Ugh, hearing you call my brother your hot ass man turns my stomach worse than your driving.” She just laughs and carries on singing. I’m only half telling the truth. Anyone looking at her knows that she is happy and in love. I kind of love the fact that my two best friends have finally stopped skipping around their feelings for each other. Closing my eyes, I let the sun’s warmth warm my face and get lost in spending time with her, knowing that in a couple of hours, I would be dancing in the arms of the man who loves me.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I shouldn’t be so nervous walking up to the house. I’ve been here a thousand times, but this time is entirely different. I’m not here to see Emilee. I’m here to see her dad and ask him a question that will change my life forever. Prom is in a couple of hours, and while the rest of the eighteen-year-olds are running around making sure they have their hotel keys, hidden liquor, and condoms, I’m making sure I don’t lose the love of my life. There is not one ounce of worry or hesitation in my whole body that Emilee and I aren’t meant to be together forever, and I want forever to start soon. No matter how this afternoon goes, I will change her last name, but it would be perfect if everyone was excited about it.

Staring at the brown wooden door in front of me, I wipe my palms on my pants, take a cleansing breath and knock three times. I usually don’t knock; I just walk right in. But considering the serious nature of my visit, I want to be respectful from the start. The sound of cowboy boots on the hardwood floor sounds through the door, making my heart race. I know her parents like me, but I’m still an eighteen-year-old boy about to ask to marry their eighteen-year-old daughter.

Emilee has opened up more about her mom now that everyone knows what happened. That’s what makes me worry that I might not make it out of this alive. I don’t want them to think that Emilee is going down the same path as her mom did by getting engaged so young. I already expect their first thought will be that she’s pregnant, but that’s not the case. Before I picture her swollen with a baby that I put in her, the door swings open, and her dad stares at me like I have two heads.

“Parker, why did you knock? Come on in, son,” he says, stepping back and allowing me room to walk in. “Emilee isn’t here. Hey, honey, where did Emilee say she was going?” he yells while shutting the door behind me.

Pulling my shoulders back, I turn around, and as serious as I can get my voice to sound, I say, “I know, sir. I’m actually here to see you and Mrs. Mary.” I’m surprised that my voice doesn’t shake like my legs are. I keep eye contact as he stands staring at me. A small smile forms on his face as he waves us toward the dining room table.

“Honey, can you come in here for a second? Grab one of my heart pills while you are at it. I think I may need it for this conversation,” he says while pulling out the chair at the head of the table. A heart pill? This conversation wouldn’t give the poor guy a heart attack, would it? At least he didn’t tell her to grab one of his many guns stashed throughout the house.

My hand is on the back of the chair beside him when a screech comes from their bedroom, “A heart pill? What is going on, George? Do you feel like you are having a heart attack? Do I need to call 911?” There’s a noise that sounds like she drops something. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, where is my phone? George, why aren’t you answering me?”

My head drops. What am I doing? I’m going to kill both of her parents and then she will never agree to marry me. “Mr. Hill, I’m sorry this can wait…”

“Sit, Parker. Mary, calm down. It was a joke. Get in here so we can put this young man out of his misery.” The smile on his face has morphed into a full-blown grin, and he chuckles as he turns his head to watch the woman he almost gave a heart attack come out of their room looking pissed.

“That wasn’t funny, George, and you know that. I should make you cook your own food tonight while the kids are out,” she smacks him on his shoulder. Instead of pulling out a chair, she comes over to give me a hug. “Hey, Parker, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the prom?” she asks, walking back around the table.

“Yes, ma’am, but I need to talk to you guys about something,” I say honestly.

“Son, you look nervous. Is everything okay? Should we call Emilee home?”

“No, ma’am, please don’t call her. I’m fine, but you’re right. I am extremely nervous, but this conversation needs to happen without her here.”

“Oh no, is she okay? Has she started to cut again? I’ve stopped checking her because she seems to have gotten better,” she says as tears fill her eyes. Realizing my mistake, I blurt out.

“No, no, oh god, no, I’m sorry. Emilee is fine, no, it’s just, I want to marry your daughter.” The words fall out a jumbled-up mess. As the words that just fell from my lips reach my ears, my pulse stops racing, my body stops twitching, and I freeze. My eyes stay glued to Em’s mom. The tears I put there when I made her think something was wrong with Em are still there, but now they are spilling over and running down her cheeks. A small gasp leaves her mouth as her hand comes up and covers it. I see her cheeks rise up, and crinkles show up around her eyes as a smile forms behind her hands.

Since no one is yelling at me or telling me to get out, I suck in as much air as possible, let out a shaky breath, and try again because that is not how I wanted this conversation to start.

“Let me try that again. What I meant to say was, I’m in love with Emilee. The kind of love that makes you unable to breathe without her around. Without her, my world ceases to exist. I’m not naive. I know people will doubt my love and commitment to her because of my age. That you may doubt it, and while I’m not really sure how I can prove to anyone how I feel about her, I will try every day, all day long, if that is what I need to.” For the first time since we sat down, I look at her dad, the one person in this house whose approval means the world to me. I’m almost certain that Emilee would agree to marry me even without his consent. Still, it would cause a strain on their relationship, and that is something I will never do. If he says no, I will have to wait a little longer and hope he says yes one day, because I’m not going anywhere.

His face gives nothing away. The longer I hold his stare, the more nervous I become. My heart rate picks back up, my palms sweat again, and my leg bounces. Placing my hands on my upper thighs, I push with all my strength to keep them still.

“Why do you call her butterfly?” her mom grabs my attention, and I break the stare off to look at her. “I’ve always wondered where the nickname came from.”

“The first day I attended school here, I was walking to my bike, getting ready to go home, when a sudden movement across the parking lot caught my attention. It was Emilee. She was heading toward the bus when she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. I was getting ready to head over there to make sure everything was okay. But then she raised her left arm, and sitting on it was a blue butterfly. January is too cold for them, but there it was, just sitting there. Emilee didn’t move, almost missing the bus, until it flew off her arm.”

I shift in my seat but continue. “I went home and started researching butterflies to figure out how one was out in the middle of winter. I never found out why, but I got lost in the way butterflies are made and some of the myths behind them. Once I stopped and thought about the process it takes for a caterpillar to become a butterfly, I instantly saw her as one.”

Everyone’s eyes are drawn to me while I tell my story. “Think about it. The caterpillar is so small that it’s vulnerable and easily squashed, which is exactly how Em was the first time I saw her. She was scared of everything around her and beaten down by the world. But, just like the caterpillar, she knew her future would be better, bigger, and more beautiful. She pushed through, determined to become something better, something beautiful to the rest of the world. Even though she has been beautiful to me since that first day.”

My eyes sting with tears, but I hold them off. “When the caterpillar has enough to eat, they cocoon themselves to transform. When Emilee had enough, she built up her walls, practically cocooning herself. With the help of us, but mostly herself, she emerged bigger, stronger, and in my opinion, just as beautiful as she was when she went in. So she is my butterfly.”

Her eyes are wide at my response, and my emotions are written all over my face. I can’t hide them when I’m talking about Em. It’s just not possible anymore. I stopped trying to hide anything when I could tell everyone she was mine without fearing something happening to her. She is the one thing I will never be embarrassed about. I’m proud to call her mine.

“While that story is sickeningly sweet, how do you know my little sister is the one you want to spend the rest of your life with?” comes a voice behind me. Turning, Adam stands in the hallway leading to Levi and Emilee’s rooms. I didn’t know he would be home, but he doesn’t make me nervous.

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