Unfortunately Liam Robertson had no more idea of how to tie the thing than I did, and as our departure time drew near, I’d already made half a dozen failed attempts. It was at that point that the front door to Liam’s house flew open and Emily walked in.
I’d seen her before but had never been introduced. She and Liam had grown up in the same neighborhood and were supposedly just friends. Nonetheless, she was going to the wedding as Liam’s date – “so she can put in a good word for me in case I meet someone.” As soon as I saw her, I did a double take.
It wasn’t the Emily I’d seen in Liam’s company before, the Bohemian with long skirts and Birkenstocks, usually sans makeup. Instead, the woman who stood before me was sheathed in a cocktail dress with a plunging neckline and high-heeled black pumps, an elegant look accentuated by tasteful diamond studs in both ears. The mascara she wore called attention to her striking eye color, and her lips, accentuated with red lipstick, were full and rich. Her hair fell in rippling waves well past her shoulders.
“Hey Emily,” I heard Liam shout. “Russ needs help getting dressed!”
“Nice to see you, too, Liam,” she said sardonically. “And yes, thank you. I appreciate the compliment.”
“You look great, by the way,” Liam added.
“Too late,” she muttered under her breath as she glided toward me.
“He’s always been clueless,” she observed, almost to herself. “I take it you’re Russ?”
I nodded, trying not to ogle.
“I’m Emily,” she said. “Technically, I’m Liam’s date, but not really. He’s more like a self-absorbed younger brother to me.”
“I heard that!” Liam shouted.
“Of course you did. But only because I was talking about you.”
Their easy familiarity made me feel like a bystander, despite the fact that our faces were now only inches apart.
“What have we got here?” she said, wrestling the bowtie free before draping it around my neck again. I noticed that she was only a little bit shorter than I and was wearing a heady floral scent.
“I appreciate this,” I said. “How do you know how to do this?”
“I had to help my dad when I was growing up,” she said. “He never quite got the hang of it either. It always ended up crooked.”
She tugged and adjusted the bowtie, her long fingers doing secret things out of eyesight. Our faces were so close it made me feel as though I was about to kiss her, and I thought again how beautiful she was. My eyes were drawn to her lips, then to the line of her neck. Her dress was cut low in the front, revealing a tiny lace bow at the front of her bra.
“Like what you see?” she teased.
I felt myself flush as I hastened to stare straight ahead, like a cadet at the Citadel. She smiled.
“Men,” she said. “You’re all the same.”
I continued to stand at attention, silent as she finished. Then, with a gentle tap to my chest with both hands and a wink, she went on. “But since you’re kind of cute, I’ll forgive you.”
When I pulled into Emily’s driveway the following morning, I immediately spotted her loading a small cooler into her SUV.
Getting out of the car, London scampered toward her and gave her a hug.
“Where’s Bodhi?” I heard my daughter ask.
“He’s in his room,” Emily said. “He’s picking a couple of movies to watch on the way. Do you want to go up and help him?’
“Yes ma’am,” London said, racing toward the front door before vanishing inside.
Emily watched her go before turning toward me. She was dressed in shorts and a sleeveless top, and she’d tamed her hair into a ponytail. Despite the casual mom-at-the-park wardrobe, she seemed to glow with health and vitality. I couldn’t stop staring at her thick hair and unblemished skin.
“Ma’am?” she asked, referring to London, when I was close.
“She’s very polite,” I said, hoping my scrutiny wasn’t too obvious.
“I like it,” she said. “I’ve tried that with Bodhi, but it’s never seemed to take.” With the kids in the house, she seemed as youthful as the girl I once knew, giving rise to an internally disorienting sense of time warp.
“It should be fun today,” I commented. “London’s been excited about it.”
“Bodhi, too,” she said. “He wants London to ride with us.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “I can follow.”
“You’ll ride with us, too, dingbat. There’s no reason for both of us to have to drive, and there’s no way I want to be trapped with those two without assistance. Besides, it’ll take us two hours to get there, and this baby,” she said, nodding at the SUV, “can play DVDs for the kids.”
Her playful ribbing transported me back to the first time I’d ever spoken to her, and how nervous I’d been.
“You want me to drive?” I offered.
“Unless you’d rather be in charge of the snacks. Of course, that means bending and twisting and unwrapping food every few minutes.”
I remembered my dad’s comment about family trips.
“No, I’m good,” I said. “It’s probably better if I drive.”
Before we had even left the neighborhood, Bodhi asked if they could watch Madagascar 3.
“Let’s wait until we get on the highway,” Emily said over her shoulder.
“Can I have a snack?” Bodhi asked.
“You just had breakfast.”