Tom
Lizzie's little fingers—still coated with sugary residue from the cotton candy she'd nearly inhaled earlier in the afternoon—pulled at and twirled locks of Emma's hair.
Emma, for her part, paid little notice as she continued to quietly explained the concept of hibernation.
"Like a nap," Lizzie concluded as she released one chunk of Emma's hair and reached for another.
"Like a long nap," Emma clarified as she shifted Lizzie's weight in her arms.
"Loooooooooong nap!" Francis cheered as he danced around Emma's feet. with a spastic little wiggle for added flair.
I chuckled at his spastic wiggling and grabbed him by the armpits, swinging him up high to sit on my shoulders.
"Whoooo I'm a giraffe!" He cried as the heels of his light up sneakers excitedly kicked my chest.
Now it was Emma's turn to laugh at my grunting.
"Is that your rendition of a gorilla?" she teased.
"Why, you in to that type of mating call?" I shot back.
"Mate like a friend?" Lizzie chirped.
Emma threw her head back in laughter then. Lizzie—with her fingers still wrapped in Emma's tresses—toppled forward. Emma caught her easily and planted a gentle kiss on the little girl's head.
"Just like," she giggled before glancing my way.
My chest ached, not from the force of Francis' kicks but the sight of Emma cuddling our niece, grinning back at me with a light in her eyes I'd never...
Beautiful doesn't begin to describe how she looked to me in that moment.
She was radiant.
That morning, when Matilda had called asking if we could babysit for the day, I'd secretly begrudged Emma for immediately agreeing.
It had been a long week at work with seemingly every major project of the foundation's suffering various crises. With herculean efforts (and no small amount of sheer luck) we had avoided the potential disasters and even secured several new endowments, but it had all left me feeling utterly ragged.
When I woke up Saturday I had hoped to roll over and find Emma snuggled beside me, also awake and, hopefully, also in the mood to destress...
But when I reached out for her, the bed was empty.
To make matters worse, she was in the kitchen fully dressed and chatting away with my sister on the phone. I'd barely taken a sip of coffee when I heard her assure Matilda that we would absolutely love to take the children to the zoo for the day.
"Tom?" Emma called to me, breaking me of reverie.
I blinked several times, having difficulty mentally returning to the Tiger Territory. Still lost for words, I responded in the only logical manner.
Emma snorted at my dramatic gorilla call.
"I was saying, don't you think it's time we head back? Matilda wanted them back by four."
Without missing a beat, Francis and Lizzie let out a chorus of howling protests.
I clapped the heels of Francis's light-up shoes together and nodded. "Auntie Em's right. We best be off, little monkeys."
"B-but—" Francis started to quibble.
"We'll come back another day," Emma consoled him.
"Do you promise?" Lizzie demanded.
Emma donned her most solemn expression before theatrically offering her pinky. "I so promise. In fact, I pinky promise."
Lizzie's face lit up at that and she quickly hooked her sticky little finger around Emma's. "Me too! I so promise!"
I swallowed the painful lump in my throat as I realized her and Lizzie's pinky promise was the most formal commitment Emma had volunteered since we'd signed the contract.
With our agreed upon six months nearly up, I prayed it was a sign she was finally ready to commit to "indefinitely".
Because if not, I'd have to find a way to tell her the truth about the contract... and my betrayal.
* * *
Matilda greeted us at the door and ushered the four of us inside. Emma sent me a pointed look before offering to help the children with their coats, effectively ushering them deeper into the foyer and out of earshot of my sister and I.
I sighed heavily as I unwrapped my own scarf. "Matilda, you should know—"
"How was the zoo?" She asked as her eyes wandered to Emma nodding along to Francis's chattering.
"Fine—wonderful," I amended as I attempted to shake my own concerns from my mind and focus on my sister. "The kids had a great time, I think."
"Looks like it," she smirked.
We both watched for a moment as Lizzie experimented sticking her now incredibly grubby hands on her jacket, her cheeks, her brother's head...
"And we had the security with us the entire time, obviously," I said turning back to the point at hand. "But you should know, there were paparazzi there. Emma and I both saw them with their cameras."
Matilda shrugged. "Well, that's to be expected."
I blinked.
My sister who spent the entirety of her son's birthday dinner complaining about the paparazzi following her children shrugs when told they practically had been stalked at the zoo? Without her there to protect them?
"Tilly, I-I thought you'd be upset."
Lizzie shrieked with laughter as Emma tickled her out of her jacket.
"Why would I be?"
I shook my head again trying in vain to understand. Sometimes my eldest sister really was the most incomprehensible person.
"Right, well I just thought you should know... They were safe the whole time, obviously." I laughed before adding: "You know, I doubt Lizzie even took ten steps herself. She was in Emma's arms practically the whole time."
Matilda hummed. "Yes, she's quite snuggly when she skips her nap."
I stared at my sister, disbelieving. "Tilly... did you know the paparazzi would be there?"
Finally, she turned to look at me. "Of course, Tommy. Who do you think called them?"
I gaped at her. "B-but why? You hate them! And you especially hate them around the kids!"
Matilda rolled her eyes as if I were the one who had lost their reason.
"She's family," she said simply. "And we take care of our family."
Margaret's GMB interview had made waves and certainly garnered positive press for Emma, but it was still not enough to erase the damage the photos purporting to show her and Patrick reunited.
In the weeks that had followed the assault—because that's what it was—The Print had continued to flood in Internet with more carefully angled photos and wild articles claiming to expose new details of the "affair."
Emma attended fewer public events, but the ones she did attend Cynthia made sure we attended together. On more than one occasion she also suggested we forgo the family's typical restriction on public displays of affection.
The first time she had given us this unsolicited advice, Emma had squeezed my hand so forcefully several of my knuckles cracked. She then—very calmly and in much more polite terms than I would have strung together—assured Cynthia that our relationship was our own and not for anyone else's consumption or entertainment.
Matilda's voice brought me back to the foyer. "She was carrying Lizzie all day you said?"
"Lizzie couldn't see over the enclosure rails, so Emma offered to lift her."
Matilda nodded. "Excellent, then those will be the cover photos on every one of those damn magazines and perhaps, with a bit of luck, she can finally be allowed to move past all of this bloody nonsense."
I stared at my sister for several moments before silently tearing my gaze away to find Lizzie and Francis piled together in Emma's lap, happily listening along as she read from a book on amphibians we bought at the gift shop.
"Thanks, Tilly."
"Don't be stupid, Tommy. She's family," she repeated.
I nodded and watched as Emma turned to the next page. Francis pointed to each word as she read them.
It all seemed so simple then. The future I wanted so desperately suddenly so obtainable.
Tomorrow. I swore to myself. I tell her the truth—the whole truth—tomorrow.
No more lies.
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