Eric’s mother. I picked myself up and left as far away from him and his city as I physically could. Before I got to the airport, I made a deal with myself in the cab that I would take the first non-domestic flight that I could get on. St. Lucia was my destiny and off I went.” Emily untangles herself from our canoodling and goes in search of a tissue and some water, I think. I hear her blow her nose before she climbs back to her spot on the couch and cuddles into me again.
“Sara, you’d be proud of how drunk I got on that flight. When I got off that plane, my brain was too fucked up to function and I just fell asleep on a bench outside the airport.” She raises her hand in the air as if swearing, letting me know she’s serious.
“Shut-the-fuck-up! You slept outside on a dirty bench, alone? You stupid cow, you could’ve been raped or killed.”
She nods her head; wow, she must’ve been so far gone. “My phone was dead, I didn’t have a charger, and I was having a mental crisis on a wooden bench in the middle of the night in a goddamn Caribbean Island that I’ve never been to.”
“I’m sorry.” Now it was my turn to cry. “When I got your text ‘It Must’ve Been Love’ by Roxette, I thought you were talking about me and my divorce. I told Eddie it was okay to tell you, and I was hoping you’d call me once you knew that Gavin and I were over. I’m sorry. I was sure it was meant for me. I should’ve called you! I should’ve answered your text but I was embarrassed after the way I left things off in London…I didn’t even invite you to our stupid wedding dinner in New York.” Emily wipes my tears with her used napkin. “Does that tissue have your shnats?” I ask her as we both laugh.
“Only my tears, I threw the booger tissue out. We can be tear sisters; two twats crying for no good reason. Don’t worry about not inviting me, I told Louis that I wouldn’t have gone even if you did. He was awful, Sara. Anyway, back to my story. In the morning, I asked a random luggage porter at the airport to recommend a hotel. He said Le Spa. I got on a helicopter and got myself there in less than half hour. So, listen to this part,” Em says as she sits up to start employing hand gestures to continue her destructive tale. We’re New Yorkers, I love how we talk with our hands.
“When I get there, I find out that the hotel is completely sold out. Zero rooms. The guy at the reception calls over his manager to try and help me arrange another hotel. The manager showed up and was looking at me like he’s seen me before. But people sometimes look at me that way because they may have seen my picture by Louis’ side in magazines. I never pay any attention to it, but then he said my name without me offering it to him, which once again, I chalked up to him reading Fortune or Money magazine, which Louis always gives interviews for.” A knock sounds at the door and Em stops her story to go retrieve our sushi delivery.
A few minutes later, with a full spread of spicy Tuna and California rolls in front of us, she continues her sordid tale. “Sara, this perfect stranger was ridiculously nice to me. I was a mess, crying at the idea of calling Louis my ex-husband. This guy was trying to make me laugh and saying sweet things. He offered to give me his room. I refused at first but I was so out of it. My brain, body, and especially my heart were on life support. I needed a break and he was it.”
“Why didn’t you call or check your messages to make sure everything was okay at home?” I ask, knowing that it would be the natural thing for her to do. Emily is always responsible. Her not calling to check in is not her style.
“Remember I told you my phone was dead? Will was nice enough to offer me his phone and when I called home, Pam picked up.”
“Who’s Pam?” I really know nothing about her life anymore, I think sadly to myself.
“Pam is my housekeeper. She picked up and told me my parents slept over