Page 52 of Breaking Emily's Rules
“I’ve done something really stupid.”
“Oh, my gawd. Am I going to be onDateline? You finally snapped, didn’t you? What did you do to Nika?”
“No, stupid. I just got back from my date with Stone. The thing is, if I hadn’t gotten out of there when I did—I think I was about to jump his bones.” I was apparently just as much of a hussy as Molly. I was supposed to be the sensible one. Why keep hoping sex could be fun when it obviously wasn’t my cup of tea?
“Wait. You were going to have sex with him when you haven’t even known him for six months? But Emily, that’s Rule Number One. Followed by, if I do recall, making sure to ask for his dental records.”
“It says a lot about a person who takes care of their teeth.”
“Yes, of course.” If I wasn’t mistaken, Rachel, who had long regarded my rules as over-the-top cautious, had just snickered into the phone. “So what happened?”
“I had him take me home before I proved what a hussy I am.” And it hadn’t been easy, either. I’d forced myself to not look back so I couldn’t be tempted to change my mind. The things he’d done to me had set every nerve on fire.
“If I’m not mistaken, that makes twice you’ve run out on the man.”
I groaned.That would be three times.“It was one date. He and I agreed.”
“You’re going to give the man a complex.” Rachel laughed, followed by a yawn. “Listen, I’ve got to get to sleep. But I suggest you get your little heinie back over there and tell him you had a fever and got temporarily delirious, or something.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“I’m—I think I’m scared.” More like terrified. What kind of a wild woman was I? Answer: not even an average wild woman. At best, I was subpar.
“You know what, honey? I don’t wonder that you’re scared. I think this might be the first time in your life that you’ve had this kind of chemistry with a man. Isn’t it?”
Certainly not with Greg. He’d had a paint-by-numbers routine, and I’d slid right into it. Never even questioned whether it was good enough or not. A good girl didn’t need anything exciting, anyway. “You’re right.”
“Naturally. Now good night.” Rachel hung up.
It was true. I’d never had a man make my pulse race, cause me to shiver at his touch and turn me on like he’d just pressed a button. But why choose the one man who had an expiration date on his time here?
Because I don’t think I deserve to be happy?
I walked over to the main house and up the porch steps. If Grammy were the one still up, a hug and some hot chocolate would help. Everything seemed so out of control lately. I’d been grasping at straws ever since I’d come home. I wasn’t supposed to be living at home at twenty-eight. I should be happily married to someone and starting a family. Instead I was taking flying lessons and tempted to jump into bed with a man I hardly knew. A man who scared me because he was so good at making me feel out of control.
I opened the front door and followed the sound of Grammy’s voice to the kitchen.
“I want the plaque to have my favorite Bible verse on it, John 3:16. If there’s room, it should say below my name, ‘She loved her family.’ Yes, and my birthday is April sixteen, nineteen thirty-six. Date of death? Of course I don’t have that yet. Yes, it’s for me. Weren’t you listening? What do you mean call back when I’m dead? Let me talk to your supervisor, young man! Hello? Hello? Why, he hung up on me. Well, of all the nerve.”
Why hadn’t I noticed it before? There could be no other explanation for Grammy’s sudden fascination with making her own funeral arrangements. Grammy was dying.
It would be just like her to not want to worry anyone with the little matter of her fatal illness. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, just some young man who doesn’t understand preparation either.” Grammy sat at the kitchen table, the phone nearby, a rolled up parchment to her right. Probably the family tree.
I reached down and encircled Grammy’s shoulders, enveloping her in a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did tell you. You saw the cremation vase. It’s definitely going in the dining room. I don’t care what your father says. Goodness, Emily, why are you crying?”
“I don’t know what I’ll do without you.” I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Grammy had always been there, and the world wouldn’t spin the same without her.
Grammy stood and pulled me into her arms. “Sit down, honey. You look like you need some hot chocolate. I’m not going anywhere for a while. I’m the healthiest eighty-year-old Dr. Lewis has ever seen.”
“Then I don’t understand,” I wiped my tears with a napkin and took a breath on a sob. “You’re suddenly obsessed with your death. I mean, you’ve never talked about this before. Why now?”
Grammy took the milk from the refrigerator and poured it into a pan, then lit the gas stove. “It’s all the genealogy research. Made me start thinking about all these relatives, and the lives they led. You’re not the only one that wants to leave this place better than they found it. It’s important that you all remember me, and that I tried.”
