Chapter 34

“It was October 10th I was alone. Well, at Abby’s one was never really alone; but it was Thursday and Leonard was not paling with me tonight. But Agnes, twenty-something Agnes, was doing her best to see to it that I was happy and that my glass remained no more than half empty at any point in time. I loved Agnes, almost as much as I loved Leah.

“Nice to see you, Emma?” I said. I was smiling broadly as the two of them came up to me. The two of them? Why Horace and Emma. Well, and I was no longer alone.

“You too, Adam,” said Emma. I noticed that she was dressed kinda nicely. She was still tall, and still a bit on the hefty side, but nice looking in spite of it all.

“Hey, how about me,” said Horace, interrupting.

“Well, I’m glad to see you too, Horace,” I said. “What’s going on. And where’s Parker. I mean...”

“Well good,” he said. “And Parker is home, and doing some planning for our up and coming.” I nodded.

“Yeah, I can guess it, your wedding, will be something of a production.”

“Hmm, an understatement of Titanic proportion,” he said. “Rodney is into putting it on.”

“No surprise. Well, and if I get to be best man, I’m gonna need some info, old bud.”

“Yes, and you will be getting it soon. Parker and I still need to finish doing some basic planning, but it won’t be much longer before we have everything all put together,” he said.

“Okay, good,” I said.

I didn’t know what it was, but there was something going on between my two guests, but I had to believe that it was my own neuroses that was making me question everything that came along.

We talked a while longer, and then my favorite folks had to leave. I had gotten a question about what I thought Willa’s reasons were for leaving me. I gave it to them straight: Willa thought, erroneously thought, that I would never be able to get over my feelings for Riley. Emma especially seemed eager to have an answer to that particular question.

They did promise to be back soon and with Parker in tow. And, with the info I’d be needing to get ready for their big do. What I didn’t know at the time was that the info was going to be coming soon all right, but it would be accompanied, the info, with a major add-on—for me!

“Okay, he seems to be okay. So, I’m onboard,” said Emma.

“Okay, good. You and I will talk some more and see what Parker thinks about our chances too,” said Horace. “Maybe next week.”

“No, if I may. I want to have a go at him alone. I think I know how to handle this more than odd situation,” she said.

“But ... I mean are you sure?” he said.

“Horace, I know the man pretty well, as well as you. I’ve been with him when things were the toughest for him. He has mentioned Riley now and again; I mean since he got out and we met up at Abby’s; but more often in the context of her and Rodney’s betrayals than any need by him for her company. Even if she were free and clear, and even if he had his thingy back; I don’t think he’d want to be with her. No, it’s more a matter of him having an almost—for now—insurmountable need to take back from her what she took from him, his heart; and really, it’s a case of them not just her. I feel like I can help him with that,” she said.

The man was nodding. “I think you can too,” he said. “You know, and I think you my have hit on his core problem, one he doesn’t even completely see or understand himself!”

Horace had mentioned that they would be dropping back by to see me soon. But he had not been exactly accurate in what he’d said. The soon part turned out to be true enough, but the ‘they’ part did not. It was just one week later, and Emma was alone, Saturday the 19th.

“Well, okay, and hello,” I said, answering the door and looking around to see where Horace and maybe his fiancée were. They were nowhere to be seen. My favorite nurse was smiling, kinda. Talk about odd...

“Again, okay?” I said. And this time it was a question. I noticed she had something sticking out of her oversized handbag; it looked like a wine bottle.

“Horace and Parker are having a kind of date night,” said Emma. “Oh, but I brought the wine.” Well, I was right in my analysis of what was sticking out of her bag.

“Okay, well good. Come in, come in.” She did so.

I led my guest to my usual spot at my mini-dinette table. “Have a seat. Oh, and welcome.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“You really are welcome, and welcome any time you come by; I know you know that. But...?” She didn’t snort, but I think she wanted to.

“Okay, yes, I am on kind of a mission,” she said. Suddenly I was on my guard. I smelled the bad guys, as maybe being complicit in this visit though I didn’t have any solid reason to—yet.

“This have anything to do with the Scottsdale clan?” I said, and yes, I had lost some of my welcoming demeanor.

“No, well not directly,” she said. “To be truthful, I think that they will have opinions or feelings relating to at least part of what my mission is. But they do not know that I am here tonight. But...”

“But?” I said.

“But, Horace does,” she said. “He’s the motivating factor in this visit, and he was the motivating factor in our common visit last week.” I sagged back in my seat.

“Motivating factor? What does that even mean?” I said. And yes, I was seriously—and in my mind justifiably—confused.

“Could we open the wine first. I’m going to need a sip or two before I explain,” she said. I nodded, took the bottle of what looked to be high end port wine from her outstretched hand, and took it into the kitchen to pop the cork. I was back in an estimated two minutes. I had two wine glasses in my other hand. I poured and sat down. We tipped our now loaded glasses toward each other. The conversation or whatsoever was about to begin.

“So?” I said. I could tell she was taking a figurative deep breath: she was concerned about whatever she was about to tell me.

“Adam, your ex-fiancée is beautiful, and married to your brother, and rich, and all of the stuff that should make a woman—any woman—happy with her lot,” she said. I started to say something, but she short shanked me.

“Please, Adam, this is going to be hard for me. Please,” she said. Now I was worried. I felt that I had to interrupt her regardless of her attempt to stop me.

“Emma, Riley has nothing whatsoever to do with you and me.”

“No, this is not about that, her, or Rodney. But it is about me. Okay?” she said.

“Okay, but I have a feeling that this topic is not going to mean a damn thing to me,” I said.

“Hah! You are so wrong. One way or another it will be meaningful to you, trust me on that one,” she said. I spread my hands in a ‘get on with it’ gesture. She nodded and stood; she began pacing back and forth: two steps right two steps left but then she stopped.

“Like I said before, Riley is startling she’s so pretty, and, she’s rich. Me on the other hand...” she started.

“What Emma, what are you trying to say?” I said.

“Shut up Adam, this is hard enough,” she said. I’m sure my face said it all, but I shut up.