Emma's P.O.V. April 5th, Charlie 4 months
Harry has just left to go to the studio for the first time since before the wedding. He's not working towards an album yet, but there are a few songs he wants to continue writing and I can tell he's had a lot of inspiration lately because he's been talking about this day for weeks.
While I was happy for Harry to get back into work, Charlie was not. She's starting to get more attached to the both of us—even more so than before—so when Harry had to say goodbye this morning she cried nonstop. It's like she knew he would be away from her all day.
The tears actually started before that, when Harry had to stop her from putting everything within reach into her mouth.
"Harry, watch your necklace," I told him to save his jewelry from getting coated in slobber and to save Charlie from choking on the pendants.
"Hey, hey, hey," Harry removed one of his hands that was supporting her to tuck the chain into his shirt.
"We only put food, pacifiers, and safe, sanitized, toys into our mouth," he told her as she began to whimper.
"You're so silly sometimes. You're my silly little Sunflower," Harry continued to talk her down in a playful manner. We thought it worked for a second, but after coming to terms with not being able to eat Harry's necklace, she tried his ear.
"Charlieee," he grimaced and turned his head away while pulling her back. "That was not very nice," he pouted and used the back of his hand to wipe his ear.
I finally found her pacifier and stuck in her mouth, but when Harry had to leave for real and he passed Charlie to me, she spit it out so she could cry.
"Sorry," Harry frowned but I assured him that she would be fine and it's good for her to have some time away from him. I'm starting to worry that she's having separation anxiety.
So that brings us to now, where I'm trying to distract Charlie with her bouncy seat and some of Harry's songs.
"Who could that be?" I exaggerate the question before picking her up to take her with me to answer the gate buzzer.
"Charlie-bean! Grandma's here!" I gasp and smile as I open the gate and watch my mom pull into the driveway.
Charlie starts to get excited too when she sees her grandma stepping out of her car. I'm surprised because she didn't tell me she was coming, but I'm glad because maybe I can get some real work done if someone else is here to help with Charlie.
"Mom, what are you doing here?" I open the front door and she immediately drops her purse to take Charlie from my arms.
"Hello, my baby!" she smiles and kisses her cheeks, "Hi, honey. I was just in the city and thought I would stop by," she tells me.
"Why were you in the city?" I laugh. I know my mom agreed to move here sometime soon, but she's still not a huge fan of LA so I can't imagine why she'd come here other than to visit us.
"You might be happy to know I closed on a house this morning," she smiles, and I gasp for real this time.
"You're serious?" My mom nods, "When did this happen!"
My mom walks towards the living room to sit with Charlie as she begins explaining herself.
"I wanted it to be a surprise," she shrugs, "I know you and Harry offered to help out, but I didn't want to put any pressure or stress on your shoulders. Plus, I have a feeling you're really going to love the house."
"What!?! Where is it? What's it like? Can I see it?" I ask a billion questions.
"It's in Hidden Hills so only about half an hour from you,"
"I've heard that's a less populated area," I chime in.
"Yes, and the house has three bedrooms. One for myself, one for Charlie, and the last for you and Harry or future grandchildren."
"A three-bedroom house in LA? Mom, how can you afford this?"
"Oh Emma, I've lived in that same small house for the past twenty-six years! It was paid off years ago, no thanks to your father, but I've been saving up for this for a lot longer than you think. I always knew I'd move out to be close to you, although I never would have imagined it being Los Angeles."
"Wow, well is it furnished? Do you need help moving anything?"
"It is furnished, and I've already sold most of my furniture with the house. You still had a few boxes in the basement, but I brought those with me as well as everything else I need to live here."
"So, you're completely moved out?"
"Yes," she smiles, and I can tell how much of a relief this is for her as well. "I was nervous at first, to leave my hometown and the town I raised you in, but I ended up realizing this is a good change for me. For one, I need to be closer to my family, but it was also therapeutic in a way to get rid of that house and all its furniture and everything. I'm not going back."
"I'm glad you're happy Mom, that's all Harry and I wanted for you," she smiles back at me and pulls me into a tight hug with Charlie smushed between us.
"Okay, since you're here, do you mind if I sneak off into my office to get a little work done?" I ask, not wanting to put her on the spot if she has other things to do.
"You really thought you had to ask me to watch Charlie?"
"You're right," I chuckle and stand from the couch to head off to my office.
"Oh, and you should get your boxes from my car. I didn't go through them, so they could just all be junk, but you never know."
"Okay, I'll do that now. Thanks, Mom."
There are four decently sized cardboard boxes in my mom's trunk that one by one, I carry into the garage. I honestly forgot what's in here, maybe memorabilia from high school or college? I'm not sure, but I am curious, so I take them into my office with me.
The curiosity gets the best of me, and as soon as I turn on my computer I change my mind about working and get to opening these boxes instead.
Sat on the floor, I pry open the first box only to see more boxes inside. They're shoe boxes that I now remember I used to store photos in. I take out the shoe boxes, some which are pretty heavy, and lay them out on the floor.
The first box is labeled, "A + E, 2005-2010." Inside are tons of pictures of Annie and I from when we were around 10 to 15. Jared took me to buy my first camera for my 10th birthday and apparently all throughout junior high and a little into high school, Annie and I were constantly taking stupid photos with it.
Many of them are good photos; there are a few from some school dances we attended, field trips we went on, and birthday parties. However, the majority are either Annie making silly faces or photos of the two of us in the mall dressing rooms.
For fun, we used to beg my mom to take us to the mall on the weekends and we would go into different stores trying on random outfits. Sometimes we would go into the high-end dress stores and pretend we were shopping for prom, but most of the time Annie and I would make a game out of who could dress the other person in the most hideous outfit.
I spend a solid fifteen minutes looking through the photos of Annie and I before moving onto the next box. In large, messy lettering, the word "bubba" is written across the top of this shoebox. I take a sharp inhale as the memory comes flooding back to me.
"Emma, I don't want to play with your stupid toys!" Jared yells from the hallway outside my bedroom
"That's not what I wanted to ask you! I wanted you to take me to the park and you could show me how to use my camera," I try to stay tough, but Jared is scary when he yells.
"Well, I have other plans, Emma. We'll go another time," he turns to leave but I stop him.
"You always say that!" I finally lose my temper, "You always say you'll take me to the park, or we'll get ice cream, or you'll pick me up from school. You never do! You, you always choose your stupid friends over me!"
"That's not true," Jared looks annoyed with me, but I'm the one who should be upset!
"YES IT IS! IT'S LIKE YOU DON'T EVEN LIKE ME ANYMORE!" I scream.
"Emma, stop it! The neighbors are going to hear you. Now, I have to go."
"I hate you." I scowl at him.
"You're such a fucking brat sometimes, I swear to god," my big brother rolls his eyes.
"Hey! I am not! That was mean," I frown.
"Whatever, I don't care. I'm leaving."
"You're going to get sick again, aren't you?" I say rudely, not caring how much of a 'brat' I may be acting like.
"Sick? What are you on about?"
"You know, when you come back home to dad's and your eyes are all red and you tell me you don't feel good, so you go to your room. You always come home sick when you hang out with your friends."
"You're so dumb," Jared laughs, "you think I get sick when I'm with my friends? No, I get high. We do drugs."
"What?" I can't believe what my brother is telling me. He doesn't do drugs; he can't do drugs; bad people do drugs.
"Yeah, so I'm going to leave now. I'm going to leave to get high with my friends so I can forget about my stupid little sister who's always nagging at me to take her to the goddamn park. Your mom will be back from work soon."
I don't even notice Jared leaving, I just sit on my bed, dumbfounded that my brother is doing illegal and unsafe things with his friends. He could get in trouble. He could get hurt. How could he do those things? How could he do that to me? Why was he so mean to me? Does he really not care about me?
He's turning into Dad.
He can't turn into Dad.
With every second I grow more and more angry at my brother. I start screaming and crying until my pillow is a mess with tears and snot. I punch my bed until my fists hurt. I tear down every photo with him in it. Every stuffed animal he got me, every gift, every coloring page we did together, I toss it into a box under my bed. I never want to see him ever again.
"Well, shit," I say out loud to myself and slowly lift the lid. Some of the photos from that day made it into this box, the rest I'm sure were destroyed. I sort through the pictures, taking my time to observe every single one. There are photos of Jared holding me as a baby, us playing together, me dressing him up in my princess dresses that were way too small for him, me watching his baseball games, Jared's homecoming and prom pictures, his graduation.
I sniffle to keep my tears from spilling, and carefully put the contents back into the box and close the lid. Since the wound is already open, I decide to figure out if one of the other boxes my mom brought is the one from the first night my brother truly hurt me.
I open one box that's stuffed with papers and other junk that I assume is from high school or college, but when I open the second box a familiar blanket sits at the top.
I carefully pick up the blanket and unwrap what I had a feeling was inside—a Nikon 28Ti. My first camera.
For my tenth birthday, Jared and I drove around town to different thrift stores in hopes to find a camera, and this is the one we found. It was in great shape when we got it, I never understood why the original owner got rid of it, but I'm glad they did. This camera made a lot of memories—I wonder if it can make more.
I wrap the camera back into the blanket and set it aside for the time being. The rest of contents of this box are exactly what I remembered, pictures of Jared and I that I drew, a few beanie babies he gifted me, one of those airbrush shirts from the mall, and other stuff that reminded me of Jared.
After the night this box was created, I didn't talk to Jared for a week. I saw him when my mom was working and I had to go to my dad's, but I didn't talk to him. Eventually I started to miss him, so when he finally apologized, I forgave him. He told me, "The drugs I do aren't that bad, and I don't do them that often. I'm sorry I scared you."
I believed him and life when on like it did before that night, but a few weeks later he came home with one of his friends, waking me up in the middle of the night, and they were high. After that it was like a constant cycle; he would lash out at me, I would cry and fight back, we wouldn't talk to each other, he'd apologize, we'd hang out like normal and have a lot of fun, then I'd see him high again, and it would repeat.
I look to the clock on the wall and see that I've been looking through these boxes for an hour now. If I'm going to get any work done, I should probably pause now, so I close the rest of the boxes and push them against the wall for now.
Just as I'm about to turn on my computer that automatically fell asleep, I get a text from Harry.
Harry: I have a lunch break in half an hour, want to bring Charlie and eat with me???
Em: My mom is here so we'll probably eat with her, sorry :( I've also been procrastinating all morning so I shouldn't leave anyway
Harry: Your mum's here? That's a nice surprise.
Em: Yeah, I'll tell you more about it later. Get back to work, babe ;)
Harry: I love youuu xxxxxxx
Em: I love you too, you dork :p
***
I'll admit I had a slow start, but by the end of the day I've come up with a plan to hire two part-time receptionists (preferably photography students), two photographers, and one other designer. Rosaline told me that she has a friend who's looking for a full-time job, so as long as that interview goes well, I already have one position filled.
I specialize in weddings, but I want a broaden my brand and based on the portfolio Rosaline sent me, the girl she knows has very impressive portraits. Harry suggested refocusing my business from strictly wedding to general family-oriented photography. This could include weddings, pregnancy, birthdays, family portraits, etc.
I'm really excited to tell Harry about my plans, and maybe afterwards we can look through the rest of these boxes from my mom, too.
*
*
*
A/N: HELLO, I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY, I'VE HAD SUCH BAD WRITER'S BLOCK AND I'VE BEEN REALLY BUSY. AGAIN, I'M SORRY, BUT I'LL START UPDATING MORE FREQUENTLY NOW.
Chapter 40 will be up tomorrow night <3 <3 <3 <3 <3