Part 13 (1/2)
Emma tried not to laugh at Addison and Adam. Addison rarely got drunk. Emma had never told Addison that she was secretly compiling stories for future years when one of their teenage or adult children might need a lighthearted tale about Momma. Two words that Emma would use to describe an inebriated Addison-uncoordinated and babbling.
”I didn't mean to, Em. She just was,” Addison began to tell her story for the third time since they had left the bar.
”I think she liked you,” Adam slurred from the back seat.
”Nah. They all like Em,” Addison said. Emma sn.i.g.g.e.red. ”Em?”
”Yes, Addy?” Emma played her role to perfection.
”She just wouldn't shut up,” Addison explained.
”So you said,” Emma replied.
”Yeah, but first she thought I was sleeping with Sandra. I mean, me sleeping with Sandra? These people are so...”
”Well, technically you did sleep with her,” Emma said.
”What?” Adam leaned forward.
”In the same house,” Emma explained.
Addison huffed. ”I'm sorry, Em.”
”For letting Sandra pa.s.s out on our couch?” Emma asked.
”No...”
”For idiots with too much time on their hands and no life?”
”No....”
Emma kept her eyes on the road. ”What are you sorry for?”
”You know. I let the cat outta the bag.”
Emma smirked in the darkness. She didn't care who knew about her pregnancy. And, she didn't care how they found out about it. Although, she was positive that a completely sober Addison would never have given up the information to a stranger, particularly not a gossip queen. ”Well, I guess it's a good thing you don't hang out in bars too often,” Emma observed.
”Em...”
”I'd hate for everyone to know how much you love my cookies or how much I hate when you clip your toenails in the bedroom.”
Addison groaned. ”I'd never tell anyone that... I mean, about your cookies.
”Everybody likes your cookies, Emma,” Adam said innocently.
Emma was relieved that she was pulling up to her parent's house, and she was grateful for the darkness that enveloped the car. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to keep a straight face much longer. A small part of her was perturbed by the latest rumor about her marriage. It provided more evidence that supported her decision to step back from the spotlight. But, her irritation paled by comparison to her happiness for Addison. She had no idea what had transpired between Addison and her father, and she was aware that lots of healing still needed to take place. Nevertheless, it was evident that a major hole had been knocked out of the wall that had stood between Addison and Adam for years. The relief that rolled off both was palpable, as if they could finally breathe. Emma stopped the car and looked behind her in the rearview mirror to see her father doing the same with Addison's rental car.
”Do I need to have my dad carry you two in or do you think you can make it on your own?” Emma teased. Addison grumbled and opened her door. Emma giggled. She made her way to Addison's side and shook her head affectionately. ”What did you drink?” she whispered.
”Beer,” Addison replied.
”Just beer?”
”A lot of beer,” Addison answered as Emma helped her through the door to their bedroom. ”Em... I really am sorry-for everything.”
Emma wrapped her arm around Addison. ”Let's go to bed,” she said. ”Goodnight, Adam,” she turned to Addison's father. ”Do you need help to your room too?” she teased him.
”Uh-uh,” Addison waved a finger. ”He already likes your cookies.”
Emma swatted Addison gently. ”Say goodnight, Addy.”
”Goodnight, Addy,” Addison grinned.
”Bed. Now,” Emma pointed to their room.
Tom turned to his daughter and laughed. ”They are both going to be sporting headaches in the morning.”
Emma smiled. ”I imagine it will be worth it,” she said.
”What do you think happened?” he asked.
”I have no idea, but if I knew that beer was the answer to getting them to talk, I would've purchased a keg long ago.”
Tom nodded. ”I think it was more than that.”
”Yeah, I know,” Emma said. ”Goodnight, Dad.”
”Night, Emmie,” he said with a kiss to her cheek.
Emma opened the bedroom door and stopped in her tracks. Addison was pulling her T-s.h.i.+rt over her head. Emma shut the door quietly and bit her lip gently. There were moments that for no particular reason, Emma found the breath stolen from her body just looking at Addison. Once in a while, those moments occurred on monumental occasions. More often, Emma found herself rendered speechless by simple things-things like Addison pulling a T-s.h.i.+rt over her head clumsily. Emma smiled and closed the distance between them, swiftly taking over Addison's task and discarding the T-s.h.i.+rt to the floor.
Addison looked at Emma and Emma kissed her tenderly. ”He doesn't hate me,” Addison whispered.
Emma pulled back and stroked Addison's cheek. ”Of course, he doesn't hate you, Addy. He loves you.”
”Yeah.”
Addison sounded like a small child to Emma. Emma lifted Addison's chin with her forefinger. Alcohol lowered a person's defenses measurably. Addison had erected numerous defenses against her emotions when it came to her father. Those had clearly crumbled. ”Addy...”
Addison closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ”He told me a lot of things,” Addison said, sobering as she spoke.
”Do you want to talk about it?” Emma asked.
Addison shook her head and opened her eyes. ”Yes, but not tonight.”
Emma nodded. ”You probably could use some aspirin and some sleep,” she observed. Addison took Emma's face in her hands and shook her head again. ”Addy?”
”I love you, Emma.”