mean?” For the first time since my arrival, she was looking at me.
“I threw away Sam’s travel mug.” I put my cup into the microwave and hit the timer. “I forgot that Grace gave it to him. Or rather, I didn’t think about the fact that Grace gave it to him. She called me while I was getting the cake and chewed me out royally. I’ve never heard her so angry at me.”
Emerson cut the plastic film, then slipped the scissors back in the drawer. “It’ll blow over,” she said. “She’ll be fine.”
“Are
“I just…” She pulled the plastic from the napkins and appeared to be counting them.
“There’s twenty-four, I think,” I said. It would say right on the plastic sleeve, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her.
“I just want it to go well tonight,” she said.
“It will, sweetie.” The microwave dinged, and I took out my cup. “I’m a little worried about Grace and Cleve, though.”
“Do you think you could work on the collage?” she asked as though I hadn’t spoken.
“On my way,” I said. She was acting more like me than herself, worrying about the details, wanting perfection. I’d take care of the collage and get that out of the way and then see what else needed to be done.
I found the huge white cardboard collage about half-finished on one of the tables in Emerson and Ted’s shared office. I balanced the stack of pictures and the glue stick on top of the collage and carried the whole mess back into the kitchen so Emerson and I could talk while I worked on it.
She was taking wineglasses from a cabinet when I walked into the room and she looked surprised to see me.
“I thought I’d work in here,” I said.
“There’s so much more room to spread out in the office.”
“Too lonely in there,” I said as I rested the collage on the table and took a seat. I began looking through the photographs. There were a few pictures taken of Suzanne with Noelle over the years and I found them hard to look at.
There were tons of pictures of Cleve at different ages. Skin the color of pecans. His dad’s jet-black hair and his mom’s blue eyes. Handsome child. Even better-looking young man. “Cleve was the most adorable kid,” I said to Emerson.
She was cleaning water spots off the wineglasses with a dish towel and she didn’t seem to hear me. Grace once told me I didn’t need another person to have a conversation with—that I was content to hold up both sides of it on my own—but that wasn’t the case. I stood and carried a picture of Cleve over to the sink where Emerson stood, holding it in front of her so she didn’t have to put down the glass in her hands. “He’s about three here, don’t you think? Isn’t he precious?”
Emerson barely glanced at the picture. Instead, she suddenly set the glass and dish towel on the counter and pulled me into her arms, surprising me. She held me tight. Almost too tight.
“Hey,” I said, patting her back. “What’s wrong?”
“I love you,” she said. “Sorry I’m so preoccupied.”
I drew away from her. There were tears in her eyes and I took her hand. “Emerson, what’s the matter?” I lowered my voice in case Jenny or Ted were around. “Is it all the stuff with Noelle?” I whispered, then it hit me. “Your grandfather! Is he—”
“He’s okay,” she said. “I think I just have major PMS or something.”
“O-kay,” I said slowly, not sure I believed her. She never complained about PMS. “Why don’t you lie down? I can get everything ready.”
“Do you mind?” She looked so relieved. “I didn’t sleep well last night and I—”
“Go.” I pushed her gently toward the hallway. “Everything’s under control. Don’t worry.”
“All right,” she said. “I’m going.”
I watched her walk down the hall. She needed a good nap, I thought, and she probably wouldn’t be able to get one until tomorrow when the party would be behind us. She had too much going on. All the revelations about Noelle. Her grandfather in hospice. Suzanne’s party. No wonder she was a wreck.
I sat down in front of the pictures again. I’d have to finish the collage, then make sure everything was ready for the caterer. And then I’d go home and get dressed. I wanted to take a picture of Grace in her new red dress, but I had the feeling she wouldn’t let me. I could imagine the two of us in the van together as we drove back over here to Emerson’s. Me blathering. Her quiet and still angry. We needed to finish that argument before the party, I thought as I glued a picture of Suzanne and Noelle in the lower corner of the collage. We needed to be done with it.
I reached in my purse for my phone and hit Redial again, but she didn’t pick up. She wasn’t going to make this easy.
35
Noelle
“I just want it to be simple,” Noelle said. She and Ian were sitting in her Sunset Park living room with Tara and Emerson, whom she’d enlisted to help plan the November wedding. She had no experience and definitely no skill in that department.
“It can be simple in
Noelle knew she drove Ian batty with her desire for simplicity. She’d already nixed the idea of a church wedding—something he’d wanted—as well as renting a reception hall. The engagement ring he’d given her had weighed down her hand with its diamond and she’d insisted they exchange it for something far less ostentatious.
