Overlooked(2)(110)
The idea was that we’d leave Memphis and go back to Woburn. We can meet up with her parents there on neutral territory. The problem is, she hasn’t phoned them yet. Which is why we stayed in the forest a second night.
Now I’ve told her not to phone at all until we get there. If she phones now and they freak, she won’t want to go back to the area at all. And I want my baby to have a family.
“Ready?” I say, holding open the passenger car door for her.
“As I’ll ever be,” she says and gets into the car.
I take her hand and bring it to my lips. “You got nothing to be nervous about. You want to move to be near family with your husband and soon-to-be baby.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Why? What do you think’s going to happen? That they’ll lock you in your room again like a little kid?”
“No. Yes. If they could, I’m sure they would.”
“That ain’t going to happen, Goldie. I’ll bet they’ve grown up since you’ve been gone.”
We drive the next five hours, talking about all sorts of things, but avoiding the issue of her parents.
Mostly, I’m wondering how I’m ever going to get a regular job. How can I?
“I think we should get married for real,” I say.
“We are,” she says.
“I mean in the eyes of the law.”
Emily turns her head, and after we pass a transport truck, I glance at her.
“You’re right,” she says.
“Awesome,” I say.
I flash her my smile, and rub her thigh. I never thought I’d ever suggest a legal marriage, but then I never thought I’d be living outside the carnival. I’ve got to do this right for my kid, and right now, it’s the only way I can figure to be able to get a good enough job.
When we arrive in Woburn, I drive straight to the Motel 6. We check in, and out of pure coincidence, we’re given the same room I stayed in all those months ago. The familiarity is nice, and it almost feels like coming home to me.
We unload our stuff, and watch tv for a bit. Emily finally seems like she’s relaxed. Her phone is on the bedside table, ignored.
“You can’t keep avoiding this, Goldie. You might as well get it over with.”
“I just need some time to figure out what I’m going to say.”
“You had days for that.”
“Well I need more.”
“Fine. Let’s go out and get something to eat.”
I don’t want anything to eat, I just want her in the car. Following road signs, I drive to Colmar.
“What are you doing?” she asks, anger in her voice.
“The phone just isn’t working. So we’re going to see them in person.”
“What the fuck? No way.”
“Yes, way.”
“What happened to seeing them on neutral territory?”
“It doesn’t matter where we see them, I’ll be standing beside you.”
Emily flings her head back against the headrest but does nothing to try to stop me from going to Colmar. I’m still going to need her to tell me how to drive to her parents’ house though.
I don’t say anything else, and we drive in silence. I want her to prepare herself for this.
It’s late Sunday afternoon, and I’m counting on her parents being home. Though maybe it’s better if it’s just her mother.
To my surprise, she directs me to her parents’ house without hesitating.
It’s huge, with a big, white veranda around it. I put the car in park, and get out. Emily gets out and walks straight to the front door. She knocks.
“It feels weird knocking on the door of my own house,” Emily says.
“You don’t live here anymore, remember?”
“I know, but…”
The door opens wide, and her mother stands in the doorframe, her mouth wide open.
“Who is it, Carol?” a voice asks from down the hallway.
“Hi, Dad,” Emily shouts.
“Emily,” he says, rushing to the door.
Her mother smiles and steps aside, saying, “Come in, come in. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Emily goes through the door, and I take a step to follow her.
“You’re not welcome in this house,” her father says, pointing at me.
“In that case, neither am I,” Emily says, reaching for my hand.
“Greg, you said you wouldn’t be like this if she came back. Remember?” her mother says, her voice a hiss.
“Emily wanted to meet on neutral ground, but I insisted her parents would be nice to her if she came here. Maybe I was wrong?” I say, cocking my head at her father.
“Of course, come in. I’ll make coffee,” her mother says. She turns to me and asks, “Do you drink coffee?”