At Any Turn

I picked up my keys. On the way out, Kim met up with me and we walked out to the car. She looked upset. “I just tried to text her. No answer. Heath says she’s not feeling well.”

“Yeah that’s what he told me, too,” I said in a flat voice.

“Adam, what’s going on?”

I suddenly wished I could just jump in the car and drive off rather than have this conversation. I hesitated. What on earth could I say?

“Was it about you proposing? Is that why she’s mad?”

How to simplify this so I could get out of having to rehash everything? I avoided her gaze. “More or less. She’s having a difficult time deciding what she wants.”

“You mean about medical school?”

I clenched my teeth. “Yeah.”

“She’s acting so weird. This isn’t like her. Did she—are you two broken up?”

“No.”

She was visibly relieved. “Oh, good.”

Well, that was reassuring at least, to know I had the mom’s approval. Hopefully more of that would rub off on the daughter.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Can you—would you please tell her that I’d like to hear from her?”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I’d like to hear from her, too. “I will, Kim. I’m sure she’s fine. It’s a difficult time for her. Tough choices and all that.”

I reached for the car door handle and she put her hand over mine. “I know it’s hard, but stick with her, okay? She’s fiercely independent, but she has a loyal heart. She’s just confused right now.”

What to say to that? I knew all of that and I was trying my hardest to understand. I nodded. “Thanks.”

It was a quick five minutes from Peter’s house to Heath’s. As I drove, I puzzled through all of this. Emilia clearly wasn’t feeling well. Maybe she was depressed? It would explain her strange behavior and her secrecy toward her mom. Well, that was not as unusual as Kim thought it was. Emilia had never told her mother the true circumstances under which we had met in person, nor a thing about the virginity auction—quite understandably. But after we’d started our real relationship, Emilia had told me that her secrecy about the auction and subsequent events had caused a bit of a strain between her and her mother. Was she keeping secrets again?

Minutes later, the unsurprised expression on Heath’s face when he opened the door and saw me standing there showed that he’d been expecting me. Emilia was in the sitting room wearing the T-shirt she usually slept in and some yoga pants, watching a Doctor Who rerun and eating a bowl of cereal. She looked up at me with wide, guilty eyes.

“So…is your phone broken?” I asked tightly.

She put her bowl down and looked at Heath, who threw his hands up and walked out of the room.

“It’s out here and I didn’t check it. I just woke up.”

I hesitated. “From a nap?” I checked my watch. Almost 6:30 p.m.

“More or less.”

I sat down on the couch next to her and she pointed the remote at the TV to mute it. “Have you been in bed all day? Why didn’t you let me know?”

She took a deep breath and glanced away. “Am I supposed to send you hourly health reports?”

“Well, you could have at least told me you weren’t going to family dinner.”

She nervously grabbed a strand of her glossy brown hair and twirled it around her finger. I zeroed in on it. Uh-oh. My eyes narrowed.

“I thought I was going to go. I set an alarm to get myself up, but it didn’t go off.”

I stared at her for a long minute and she fidgeted. Her clothes were rumpled, her hair uncombed and she had circles under her eyes. And she was clearly hiding something. She was sending me her usual signals.

Finally she raised her brows at me. “What?”

“Something’s going on and you aren’t telling me.”

“I’m just not feeling very well.”

“Like…physically or mentally or what?”

She fluttered her eyes, taking a deep breath, clearly irritated. “I’m allowed to have down days once in a while.”

“What are you down about?”

She shrugged and looked away. “I’m okay. It’s been a crappy few weeks—for both of us. I just need a day to hang out and do nothing.”

I rubbed my forehead. We hadn’t lived together long, but I’d never seen her express the need to have a day like this. Emilia was typically very energetic. And usually when she was feeling angry or down she played on the game. I flicked a quick glance at the alcove that held her desktop computer. It was powered down, probably since Heath had shut it off the night before. Maybe she was having a bad period? I knew better than to ask if that was it, though. No need to get my head bitten off needlessly. But if that was it, why the evasion? She would have just told me.