“Hey, you.”
“Hi,” Sarah answered, already finding her footing. “Are you busy?”
“That’s a relative question. Not too busy for you. What’s up? How are you?”
“Grace and I have had a bit of a bad day. I guess I just need to talk to someone. I thought of you. Is that crazy?”
“I’d be upset if you didn’t. What happened?”
“Are you sure you have time, I mean, I can call you later if you have a lot on your plate.”
“Do you want me to come over?”
The offer alone stopped Sarah short. “No, absolutely not. It’s the middle of your work day.”
“Like I said, everything is relative. Tell me what happened.”
Sarah sighed and recounted the story to Emory, starting in May with the first diagnosis and concluding with Grace’s seclusion in her room. She found herself including even the small details, needing Emory to hear all of it. When she finished, she felt somewhat relieved.
Emory didn’t answer for a moment. “Sarah, I had no idea. That’s a lot for you to deal with. I mean, we sat on the back patio discussing life in detail and you never said a word.”
“I don’t think I was ready to let you that far in. You were a client and we became friends, but it’s different now. At least I think it is.”
“It is.”
“I don’t know what to do for her, Emory. I have a call in to her cardiologist about today, but it’s not just her health. Her spirit has really taken a hit. I’ve never seen her so desolate.”
There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “Didn’t you say she likes to swim?”
“Yeah, it’s her passion du jour.”
“Why don’t you guys come to my place in a couple of hours? I can move some things around here and meet you. Grace can swim, I can whip us up something to eat, and we can see if we can’t get both of you in better shape.”
Sarah blinked several times, considering the idea. She could definitely use someone in her corner today, and seeing Emory would probably be a nice diversion for Grace. She’d asked about visiting Emory endlessly since they initially met. “That might be nice, but I’m not sure that swimming is such a good idea. She should probably take it easy today.”
“What if there was no actual swimming? Would she go for floating around in the pool on a raft?”
“Chances are good.”
“Great. I’ll give you directions.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind because—”
“Do you have a pen?”
“Right here.”
*
“Where are we going?” Grace sighed in annoyance. Her mood had apparently shifted from sad to angry in the span of two hours.
“I thought it might be fun to get out of the house. Do you remember Emory from the great big house we went to?” At the mention of Emory’s name, Grace snapped to attention. Aha, now she had her.
“Yeah, she’s the artist.”
“Right. Well, she invited us to come over for a swim at her house and then dinner afterward. I told her you’d need to take it easy in the pool, but she has some fancy rafts that might be fun to float around on. Game?”
She answered with noticeably more energy. “Game.” Grace turned her attention back to the window but was unable to hide the small smile that crept onto her face. Sarah reached for the radio controls and turned up the volume, catching Grace bobbing her head to the beat of the music. It seemed this had been a good idea after all.
Sarah pulled into the short driveway, parking her car behind the familiar Jaguar, her signal that she had in fact located the correct house. She leaned across the steering wheel and stared up at the two-story, medium sized home in front of her. When Emory informed her that she lived on Mission Beach, it had surprised her. All along, she’d pictured Emory living in more of a hoity-toity neighborhood, more akin to Banning Street, in a large formal home. This funky beach scene, while still high-end, was a much more appealing choice.
“Remember your manners today,” she instructed Grace as they made their way from the car. “Please and thank you.”
“Thank you for reminding me,” Grace said.
“That’s my girl.”
Emory opened the door just moments after the bell chimed and smiled brightly at them. “Hi, you two, come on in. Um, I can take your bag, Grace.” Grace gratefully handed her backpack to Emory as she passed. “What have you guys been up to today?”
“Nothing until now. Can I see your pool?” Grace asked.
“Sure, right this way.”
Sarah followed Emory from the two-story entryway through a small hallway that opened them up into the living room. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. The interior of the house was damn impressive. Shiny hardwood floors, streamlined bookcases, and hip steel lighting fixtures worked together to give the place an entirely modern look and feel. If the outside was unassuming, the inside of Emory’s house was downright stunning. The entire back wall of the house was floor to ceiling windows, with the most beautiful view of the beach Sarah could possibly conceive of. The room itself was very open with a sleek little bar and four tall chairs separating the living room from the contemporary kitchen. Sarah didn’t see a lot of places to throw yourself down and lounge comfortably, as the light blue sculpted sectional was a far cry from the worn in, cuddly couch at her own apartment. While it wasn’t exactly her style, she had to admit the place was breathtaking.
“How long have you lived here?” Sarah asked, doing her best to mask her amazement.
“Two years. The house was built in eighty-three, and when I bought it I decided to upgrade a few things.”
“It’s beautiful. This view alone is…wow.”
“Thanks, I like it too. I just wish I got to enjoy it a little more. It’s nice having company though.” Emory must have picked up on Grace’s puppy dog eyes as she sat patiently through their conversation. “I have a feeling that the miniature person is ready to get in the pool. Tell you what, Grace, why don’t you go get your suit on right through there and I’ll open this place up a little bit.”
Grace eagerly snatched the backpack from Emory’s hands and hurried into the bathroom pointed out to her. Emory moved to a small console in the kitchen and pushed a code into the keypad. The glass wall that separated the kitchen from the outdoors rose upward, completely opening up the room to the refreshing breeze moving in from the beach.
Sarah gaped. “Okay, you just made a wall disappear. What else can you do?”
“Be patient. You never know.”
“Will there be a fireworks display later?”
Emory smiled wisely. “Fireworks are strictly for Tuesdays.”
“Got it. Presumptuous of me. May I ask if you plan to swim with us?”
“Mhmm. Already set. See?” Emory tugged a red bathing suit strap from underneath her T-shirt. “What about you? Do you need to change?”
“I do.” Sarah placed a hand on her bag. “Is there somewhere I can…”
“You can change in my room,” Emory offered. “It’s the first door on the left, at the top of the stairs.”
Sarah followed the lazy spiral staircase that snaked its way to the second story and easily located Emory’s bedroom, which seemed to be one of three in the house. The room itself wasn’t overly large, but the two glass walls looking over the expanse of the ocean made it feel so much bigger. The elevated second story offered a more expansive view of the Pacific, and she took a moment to watch the waves roll in from as far as the eye could see. A soft beige love seat faced out, overlooking the ocean. Something about this room seemed a little bit more personable, warm. Sarah imagined Emory cuddled up on the small sofa, reading a book, and watching the surf.