Page 72 of Toxic Hope
I hate that she even has to ask that question. She’s still not completely convinced. “There’s no catch. You want to live? Start living. Get anything and everything you want. Don’t even think about the cost. Just let yourself have fun.”
“And don’t bother asking for our opinion on anything, because we don’t have the first clue,” Preston jokes. It takes her a second, but she eventually starts off, walking slowly down the first aisle.
I exchange a glance with Preston. “Is this crazy?” I ask. “Are we doing the right thing?”
“Does it feel like the right thing?” he asks.
I don’t need to think about the answer. I only need to check in with how I feel inside. “Definitely. You?”
“Absolutely.” We’re both smiling as we watch Emma progress through the store. Somehow, it’s even possible to smile when it’s time to pay for everything she loaded into her basket. Whatever it takes, so long as I can see her looking this happy. I’d buy the whole store if I had to.
By the time we’re finished and back at the house, I sort of feel like I bought the entire mall. There are bags from a half dozen stores scattered around my room, and the happy humming coming from the shower reminds me what it’s all about. She wanted to live a little? She definitely lived today. So did our bank cards.
Sarah comes limping up to my door while Emma is still in the shower. “I heard Emma’s coming to dinner.” She’s all smiles, telling me she likes the idea. “Is she? I thought we could get ready together.” And I love her for it. If there’s one thing Emma needs, it’s acceptance. She’s been missing that just as much as she’s missed money and security. She deserves to have the kind of experiences other girls have all the time. When Sarah taps on the bathroom door and asks Emma to meet her in her room, I hear the excitement in Emma’s voice when she accepts.
Itcouldbe this easy, couldn’t it? Bringing her into the fold, making her a part of our lives. Not that I’d want to take her from Grandma Lois—the two of them need each other. But I need her in my world too.
Maybe we could move Grandma Lois in with us?
Okay, now I’m taking it too far. But I can’t help it. I’m practically giddy by the time I’m dressed and downstairs with Preston, waiting for everybody else.
Mom joins us first, and right away I notice how bright-eyed and put-together she is. She doesn’t have that glassy look, and she’s not overly hyper or talkative the way she can be when she’s on an opioid high.
“You look so handsome, both of you,” she murmurs, reaching up to adjust the collar on my button-down shirt. “Between the three of us, I think it’s sweet the way you want to include your friend. Sarah tells me she’s a very nice girl.”
“She is,” Preston quickly agrees. “And she’s had a really tough time, so we want to make things nice for her whenever we can.”
Mom takes one of my hands, then one of Preston’s. Are there tears in her eyes when she looks up at us, wearing a loving smile? “My boys. You have the sweetest hearts. That’s one thing I’ve never questioned about either of you. You are both my sweet sons.”
I can’t remember the last time we had a talk like this, and it’s a little overwhelming. I want to be the person she sees in front of her. Somebody with a good heart. Somebody who does the right things for the right reasons. I want to live up to the way she sees me.
And I want to earn the happiness I see radiating from Emma as she leads the way down the stairs in a new black dress we bought her today. It’s simple and classic, and it goes well with her pearls. I need to find out when her birthday is so we can buy her a matching pair of earrings.
“Here comes the birthday girl,” she announces once she reaches the bottom of the staircase, but it’s Emma I care about. Emma, who looks so beautiful, radiant.
When Dad comes jogging down the stairs, he pauses halfway down, looking us over. “I’m impressed,” he tells us with a grin. “Look at all of you. How lucky am I?”
I’m starting to understand what he means.
He is definitely in a good mood tonight, and the feeling carries through to the restaurant, where he lifts a glass of freshly poured Merlot in Sarah’s direction. “To the beautiful birthday girl,” he announces with a loving smile. “I’m so proud of the woman you’re becoming. Nothing but the best for you this year and always.”
I would swear I’m dreaming. Mom looks happy and healthy. Dad is actually behaving like a human being, not some robot who learned how to fake emotion. And Emma is easily the most beautiful girl in the restaurant. She glows in the candlelight, laughing softly at the jokes we lob back and forth.
Over appetizers, Dad waves his fork between me and Preston. My heart sinks for a second—is he going to disappoint me and say something shitty? “I have to say, I’m impressed with you two. You stepped up in a big way. Believe me, I receive regular reports.”
That’s not a big surprise. Like it’s not exactly what Iknewwas going to happen. But I can’t pretend hearing his approval isn’t a change of pace. “You thought we’d blow the whole thing off?” I ask with a smirk.
“Do you want the honest answer to that question?” he counters, though it’s obvious he’s trying to hide a grin. “Suffice it to say, you did well, and I’m grateful to you both for accepting the responsibility.”
I’m liking the way this conversation is going and the mood he seems to be in, so why not take the risk? “Any idea how much longer we’re going to have to accept that responsibility?”
“Yeah, can we at least get an idea of a date?” Preston asks.
“Sure, put me on the spot in front of your friend.” Dad gives Emma a private smile before his gaze swings back to Preston and me. “I think we can call your volunteer duties finished at this point.”
Thankfuck. Now tonight really feels like a celebration.
And thanks to Emma, I can see a future in front of me that involves a lot more nights like this one. Sitting here with a sense of satisfaction, feeling like life is finally on the right track.
