Love, Emma

Chapter Eleven:

.  .  .  .  .

Sappy as it may sound, that hug in the kitchen was all I could think about for days- including right now as I lay in bed, my alarm clock bathing my skin in a reddish tint as the minute's tick by.

Rolling over, my face to my pale blue wall, I snuggle deep into my covers, trying to keep the cold of our house out of my bed.

It was only yesterday the furnace broke down, and I'm already feeling it's effect, or lack of, in my day to day life. I nearly freeze to death every night attempting to sleep, despite the endless layers of blankets that had been laid over each other for more warmth. A large sweater is now worn over my long sleeve, and socks had been found in the dark- somewhere around two in the morning- to slide over my numb feet in the hopes of bringing back some feeling.

AJ's spoken to the repair guy and has sadly reported that due to the abrupt cold front we're facing, there's a waiting list of people to have their furnaces updated, fixed, and even replaced. We're expecting to finally be seen by the middle of next week, and even that's pushing it, seeing as some cases are more drastic than others those with bigger problems will be taken care of first, leaving the remainder of us, (in waiting) to fend for ourselves with the use of thick quilts, fuzzy socks, and layered items of clothing.

I can personally say from my experience, it's not working, not even remotely close.

.  .  .  .  .

"S-so you w-w-won't ha-have it fixed u-until next w-w-week?" Nathan stutters, his eye brows dipping down in dismay at the thought. His face is all tense, wrinkles forming in his forehead as he thinks over what I've said, his navy eyes a river of emotions.

"Yep, no heat until next week. I don't know what we're going to do, we don't have a fire place, and the house is old, the backup generator the previous owners had installed can barely heat up our basement to keep the pipes from freezing." I sigh, taking a sip from my thermos of hot chocolate, a beverage I've been seeing a lot more of since the cold front hit.

Nathan is silent for a while, his brow furrowed in thought, his lips taught in a line, almost like a grimace. Reaching my hand out, and using my index finger, I rub at his forehead, trying to smooth out the wrinkles all his thinking has been giving him.

Shocked, Nathan's face smooth's out instantly, his eyes widening to their maximum capacity, yet nearly going cross eyed as he stares at my hand.

"Wh-wh-what-t...- "

Saving him the struggle, I give him a smile and continue my massaging against his forehead, surprised by how smooth his skin is, yet still avoiding his scar to decrease his discomfort. We may have gotten closer, but I don't know how Nathan would feel about that, and considering we're just starting to make some progress, I don't want to push it and scare him.

"You're going to get wrinkles Nathan Walker, hasn't your mother ever told you that?" I give him a little wink, sending his face flushing a deep red, nearly crimson it's so bright. Removing my hand, I give him a smile and go back to my hot chocolate, eager for the warmth it brings.

After taking a few more sips, which allows Nathan's face to return to a regular tone, I turn to him I my seat, the denim of my jeans scratching against the plastic bench.

"What were you thinking so hard about anyways?" I question, taking another sip, in which leaving me with a foamy mustache that Nathan cracks a small smile at.

"I-I was j-just th-thinking that-t if it's to-to-too cold in y-your h-house you could st-stay with u-us?" His eyes are down cast to the plastic table top, feet fidgeting against the floor like mad, while his hands twist and pull at the fabric of his black sweater, fumbling over each other continuously.

I smile despite his obvious discomfort, desperately trying to hold back the aw I want to let loose while still trying to pay attention so I don't forget about his question, or my awaiting answer.

"Aw, thanks Nathan that's really sweet of you, but I don't think it would be right to accept your invitation without the consent of your parents, regardless you guys have a full house, I don't' want to be a bother."

"You are not a bother." His voice comes out so quickly, strong and steady without his usual stutter. I can't help but stare, and I can practically see the embarrassment easing into his face from my prolonged looking.

"I-I could as-ask my m-m-mom, she-e w-wo-wouldn't say n-no. W-we...I c-care about y-you."

.  .  .  .  .

It was almost unreal, the act of packing up all my stuff, saying good bye to my brothers, who had found other living arrangements (AJ at the station and Beau at Luke's) and even my Mom, who has found an opening at the hospital to stay permanently overnight until the heater is fixed, only to be picked up in the Walker's van and brought to the café, courtesy of Nathan and Enzo who argued the whole way in rapid fast Italian.

Entering the café, my backpack over one shoulder as Enzo carries my duffle, it has a far different feeling than it usually does- the feeling of comfort and familiarity I'd come to associate with the little building was pushed farther away, as if buried in the shadows of my mind. A new, unrealistic edge has tinted my common memories of this café, leaving me not only feeling uncomfortable, but out of place.

Where do I, blonde, petite and pale, fit in to this family of tall, dark haired beings? Where does my style of big hoodies and t-shirts reside against Helen's of flowing skirts and assorted tops? How can I, Canadian in every sense of the word, mix with their European atmosphere?

My discomfort must have shown quite plainly on my face, for Enzo squeezed my shoulder reassuringly, sending me a lop-sided smile.

"You'll fit right in Em," Walking around me, the duffel bag, which I had to practically drag down the stairs, swinging freely from his hand, Enzo walks to the door, where Nathan's already waiting, having unlocked the door moments ago.

I follow them up the old stair case, admiring the worn, used look to them with every step, until we reach the landing, crowding onto the small wood area for only moments until the front door is thrown open my Enzo, unleashing a world so very unlike my own.