Couldn’t we at least try? (#fiction)

in #writing10 months ago

‘Emma?’ Sarah appears around the side of the fruit and vegetable aisle.

‘Hm?’

‘Are we ever going to talk about the fact that Derek Fitzmaurice keeps coming in here looking for you?’

Emma glances towards the entrance – sees Derek – and her heart almost stops. ‘Shit.’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’ll go to him now…’

She approaches him – her legs feel like jelly, she doesn’t know how she’s managing to put one foot in front of the other – but somehow, she manages to stand before him and look into his eyes with some semblance of dignity.

‘Derek. Hi.’

‘Hi. I – I wanted to know, can we talk?’

She glances around, looking for an excuse to put him off. ‘Well, I…’

‘I’m sorry. I know you’re working. It’s just … I drove past and couldn’t … I had to stop. Can we have five minutes? Please?’

Emma sighs. She can’t think of any reason to delay this any longer. ‘Alright. I’m meant to be taking a break soon, anyway … Sarah?’

‘Yeah?’ Sarah calls back, still hovering around the fruit and vegetable aisle.

‘I’m going on my break now. Keep an eye on things while I’m gone, okay?’

‘Sure.’

Emma turns to Derek, struggling to keep her voice even. ‘Well … there’s a park nearby, so –’

‘Griffith Park, right?’

‘Yes. Maybe we can walk there?’

‘Okay, sure.’

‘Let me just get … some coffee.’ She wanders over to the coffee machine near the tills, a little distracted. Unsure what to do. ‘Would you like some, Derek? Or tea?’

‘Coffee would be great. Thanks.’

‘Great.’

Emma can’t help but feel saddened by the cautious, stilted tone of their conversation. She has no idea how to conduct herself around him now. She watches the coffee machine finish its job: holding her breath slightly until two cups have been filled without incident. This machine can be a little temperamental at times, so she’s glad she doesn’t have to deal with it breaking down right now. It’s the last thing she needs, on top of everything else.

She turns to Derek. Hands him his cup. ‘Alright. Well … let’s go.’

They walk down the tiny road that leads to Griffith Park in relative silence: exchanging a few comments about the weather, the traffic, how their work has been going…

Emma loves to come to this park on her lunch break. Over the last few months – through the burgeoning growth of spring and summer, and the fading light of autumn – she has grown to know it well. She gravitates towards her favourite bench by the Tolka River and beckons Derek to sit down beside her. They sit and watch the scene before them for a minute: ducks floating down the river, a few swans cleaning their feathers on the opposite bank, children running around, screaming with delight as they jump into an enormous pile of leaves…

‘So…’ Emma begins awkwardly, when the silence has gone on long enough to be acutely uncomfortable. She clears her throat. ‘How is Sophie?’

‘She’s alright. Well. Getting there.’

‘Those girls who bullied her … did they ever apologise?’

‘Oh, yes. We went through a whole series of meetings with her principal, and with the girls’ parents … Sophie said she didn’t want to be pulled out of the school. Apparently there is one girl she’s starting to become friends with now, so that’s good. I’m keeping an eye on her, though. After that night – all the terrible things she said to me – I got an awful shock…’

‘Oh Derek. I can imagine it only too well.’ Emma wants to reach out and hold his hand – give it a comforting squeeze – but she knows this would be inappropriate. She can’t do it, no matter how much she might long to. ‘And Anne-Marie … I hope she’s okay too. How has she been coping?’

‘She’s okay. She got as much of a fright as I did, when I told her about everything that had been going on. But she and Sophie have been spending a lot more time together lately – trying to rebuild their relationship – and I can see that this is helping Sophie to feel more secure.’

‘Oh yes, she’s living with you again. That’s good. For Sophie.’ Emma takes a sip of her coffee, eyes fixed to the ground, trying hard to keep her voice studiously casual.

‘Emma…’

‘Mm?’

‘Emma, look at me. Please.’

She reluctantly does so. He is staring right at her: his eyes piercing, earnest.

‘I swear to you, Emma, she’s there for the kids. That's all. After the incident with Sophie, we agreed it would be best for Anne-Marie to stick around for a while. I know this isn't going to work as a long-term arrangement, but right now, it has made a difference to Sophie. It’s been helping her. And Luke seems more relaxed too. He’s happy to have his mother back. But in terms of whether there’s anything going on between her and me … no. There isn’t.’

Emma shakes her head and turns away. ‘I don’t know if I’m able to believe that. I just…’ Tears well up in her eyes. How to proceed?

An excitable golden retriever puppy with his tongue lolling out of his mouth – sending flecks of his saliva everywhere – chooses this exact moment to run up to them and jump on top of Derek. Derek just about has time to put his coffee cup to one side before his arms are engulfed by the dog’s golden fur.

A harried-looking old man approaches them, lead in hand. ‘Buster. Buster!’

Buster continues to climb all over Derek, his tail wagging at warp speed. It whacks Emma in the face and she, startled, does her best to lean further away from him.

‘I’m sorry, he gets overexcited,’ the man explains apologetically as he tries to grab his dog by the collar. ‘Buster! Come on! Leave them alone, let’s go…’

Buster barks excitedly as he catches sight of the children jumping in the leaves, and runs to join them instead. The man apologises to them again, then takes off after his dog, shouting at him not to annoy the kids – though the kids seem delighted by his presence and have begun to fawn all over him.

Amused, Derek and Emma can’t help but smile at each other, but that moment of closeness soon proves to be too much for Emma. She quickly glances down at her coffee, a lump in her throat. For a few moments, she cannot speak. Then…

‘Derek?’

‘Yes?’

‘I think this – us – was a mistake,’ she tells him – having rallied – in a clipped, brusque tone. ‘You were just lonely, missing your wife, and I was upset about Brian.’

‘Emma. Please,’ he says quietly. He is now staring down at his own cup, absentmindedly tracing a finger over the lid, over and over again … something about his demeanour makes her want to cry all over again. He’s like a lost little boy.

‘I … I enjoyed every moment of our time together,’ she goes on, more gently. ‘We were there for each other when we both needed someone, and I appreciate that. I really do. But realistically … this was never going to work, was it? It was never going to turn into anything real.’

‘Couldn’t we at least try?’

‘I don’t know, Derek. I just think … I’ll never measure up to her.’

‘What? Emma, come on, that’s ridiculous.’

‘Is it? Everyone knows your story. That fairytale beginning. The victory lap after you won the championship for the first time, her on your shoulders, that kiss after you took the trophy: all those images are iconic. You’ve been one of the most well-known couples in this country. And who am I, Derek? Who am I, really? I have to scrimp and save to make ends meet, keep my business going, stay afloat … I’m not a part of your world. I don’t understand it and I don’t claim to. I’m not right for you. You may not be back with Anne-Marie yet, but it will happen. I know it will. Yes, I know you’ve said that her living there again is a temporary arrangement for now, but how long before it becomes permanent? A week? A month?’

‘Emma, that is not going to happen,’ he insists.

‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Anne-Marie shows up at your door, says a few things about how you two getting back together would be best for the kids, and all of a sudden, you stop calling me … I don’t need that, Derek,’ she concludes flatly. ‘I don’t need a man who can’t decide whether he wants me or not.’

‘Emma, I’m sorry I stopped calling,’ he says, his voice now pained, low and urgent. ‘Please listen to me: I was so stupid, and I can see that clearly now. Yes – when Anne-Marie came back, I didn’t know what to do, my head was all over the place – but if I could take it all back, I would do it in a second –’

‘Derek, stop. Here’s all I want to know: can you sit here right now and tell me, honestly, that I’m the one you want to be with? That you feel absolutely nothing for Anne-Marie? That everything you had with her is 100 percent gone?’

He hesitates for a moment … and that moment is enough. The tears Emma has been trying to hold at bay finally escape her eyelids.

‘Well, then … I have my answer. Goodbye, Derek.’

She abruptly gets up and walks away, ignoring the sound of his voice calling her back.

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Ouch, he's an idiot....

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