Twenty One

Despite her considerable reservations, they talked a number of times throughout the summer, and the newspaper incident turned into a private joke. Emily had kept a copy in her nightstand, and any time she felt the need to centre herself a little, she would take it out and look at it. The photograph was a reminder to Emily of the vastly different worlds she and Trent occupied, and although she was truly beginning to see how much she wanted them to cross, she was finding it difficult to see how it could possibly work. It would be sooner than later, she knew, that their divergent lifestyles would become an issue requiring the ‘what next’ discussion, a discussion she was, in no way, prepared to handle.

Trent would call, often two or three times a week when he knew Emily was not at work, and they would talk on the phone long into the night. Emily’s heart would thump when she saw his number come up on the call display, and while the discussions tended toward the superficial, the two did get to know each other fairly well, and Emily’s affection grew exponentially. It was clear to her that Trent was a kind, generous, and romantic man, and she was repeatedly reminded of the inaccuracy of her first impression. Despite their distance, the time apart gave them the opportunity to get to know each other without risk, without temptation, and Emily appreciated Trent’s frequent habit of calling her after a show, usually around the time she was getting off work, to say goodnight. He always seemed to know her work schedule, and was attentive and considerate. Her intuition, which she tended to trust, told her he was genuine. It was her own personal demons that kept her from letting him fully into her life, even though he made it quite clear he was interested. Emily sensed strongly that all she needed to do was say the word and Trent would be there by her side. Trouble was, she was fully aware that ambivalence was ruling her heart. On one hand, there was undeniable attraction that seemed to go well beyond the physical, and it had persisted despite time and distance. On the other hand, there was Emily’s intimate knowledge of the pain of loss, and no guarantee it wouldn’t happen again, especially when she told him exactly what he was getting into.

Another realization struck Emily one night as she was falling asleep after one of their late-night telephone marathons: she had, unwillingly, adapted to her new life as a widow and single mother, and she had to admit that she kind of liked it. The Petersons had an unconventional sort of routine, but her kids were reasonably-well adjusted, considering they had lost their father at four and had a mother that worked sixty hours a week. Did she really want to stir that up by adding another person to the mix? If he’d even want to be added, she reminded herself. He doesn’t even know what he’s up against. A dead husband, glorified in grief by his widow and his children, tended to be pretty big shoes to fill.

During all of her introspection, Emily also came to realize that she needed to consider carefully how Trent’s lifestyle would affect hers. There was no doubt that being with him would be like living in a fish bowl. Was she prepared to withstand the scrutiny of tabloid journalism, and its readers – the people with nothing else to do but live vicariously through celebrities? She tended to think not; but then he would call, and his voice would make her question even that.