A Different Kind of Forever - By Dee Ernst Page 0,86
her mother. “So, I apologize.”
Diane pressed her lips in a thin line. “Sit down, honey,” she said.
Emily sat on her bed, legs crossed Indian-style. Diane stood over her, arms still folded.
“If I see Michael, again, will there be a problem?”
Emily shrugged. “No. I wouldn’t like it if you hated my boyfriend, so I’ll be fine. Really.”
“Oh, great. So you’ve just guilted me out of all objections to any future boyfriends you may have in this life and the next, is that it?”
Emily’s mouth twitched. “No, Mom.” Pause. “So you’ll be seeing him again? Megan said he was in London.”
“Yes. He’s in London. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
“Oh.” Emily looked up shyly. “Did you go to his house?”
Diane sat down next to her on the bed. “Yes, I’ve been to his house.”
“What’s it like?”
“Long. Elegant. He has very sleek furniture, no knick-knacks. He lives on a lake and it’s beautiful. He has a studio, with a glassed-off sound booth, and all this ridiculously sophisticated equipment. He collects Japanese art.”
“You like Japanese art,” Emily said.
“Yes. We have lots of things in common.”
“Is he really in love with you?”
“Yes, honey, he really is.”
“Are you in love with him?”
“Yes. I am. I wasn’t sure, for a long time, if I was or not. But I do love him. Very much.”
Emily looked at her mother sideways. “Are you going to get married?”
“Honey, I don’t think I want to get married again.”
“Can we go to the Grammys?”
“What?”
“The Grammy Awards. Do you think we can go?”
Diane bit back laughter. “I don’t know, honey. Why don’t we wait on that one?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Diane took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I should have told you from the beginning, but I was afraid you’d have, uh, expectations, and I wasn’t sure we were going to last. I was going to wait for him to come back, invite him over, and just kind of let you get used to the idea. It was a mistake. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to find out about this over the Web.” Diane gave her a hug. “Are you ready to come home? Rachel is coming in early on Friday, and we were all going to get dressed together and see the play. Stay here. You’ll be back at your fathers’ that night anyway. Stay and see the play with us.”
Emily shrugged again. “Yeah, okay, that sounds like fun”
Diane exhaled silently. “Okay, then. I’ll tell your Dad.” She went downstairs, thanking the gods. Kevin was packing his briefcase.
“She’s staying.” She hugged her ex-husband tightly. ‘Thank you so much. I don’t know what you did or said, but thank you.”
Kevin kissed her forehead affectionately. “I didn’t do anything. Really. I think she just figured it out for herself.” He shrugged into his jacket. “This guy she was talking about.” He looked at her with interest. “He’s in a rock band? I mean, I don’t care who you date, you know that. And I want you to be happy, Diane, I really do. But how old is this guy?”
“About three years younger than your wife,” Diane said dryly. Kevin had the grace to color slightly.
“Well, I hope he’s worth it. I know what these past few weeks have cost you. I’ll bring the rest of her stuff tomorrow. And I’m seeing your play on Friday. I’ll take the girls with me from there. Break a leg, or whatever.”
“Thanks again.” Diane closed the door behind him. Megan would be home from Becca’s soon. It was time to make dinner. Emily was back home. Quinn had proposed. All in all, a good day’s work.
Friday afternoon, Diane raced home to get ready for her play. Rachel was waiting for her as Diane emerged from her shower. Her daughter was wearing a long, flowing dress, obviously vintage. Diane looked at her suspiciously.
“I think I wore that same dress in 1986. To a fraternity dance.” Diane said slowly.
Rachel looked shocked. “You went to a fraternity dance?” she asked, horrified.
Diane shrugged. “Hey, times were different then. It was free beer. You look terrific.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “So, what are you wearing? I hope you bought something incredible for your premier.”
Diane pulled out a black pants suit, the jacket cut to look like a man’s tuxedo, the pants wide and comfortable. Rachel examined the outfit critically.
“Are you at least wearing hot lacy underwear underneath?” she asked at last.
Diane’s shoulders slumped. “Rach, why would it matter what I was wearing underneath?”