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“What are you going?”

Emmitt’s voice ripped a startled yell from me.  Swiveling on the stool, I held a hand to my heart and gave him a wide-eyed look.

“Obviously, four hours of sleep isn’t enough.”  He stood just behind me, reading the paper over my shoulder.  “Why are you doing this?” he asked nodding to the paper.  “And why did this one fly?”  He held up the wrinkled sheet I’d tossed out the window.

“I know investments.  Stocks.  Richard invested.  It’s the only way I can pay you back.”  He arched a brow at the crumpled paper, obviously wondering about it.  “Another thought woke me.  That one wasn’t right,” I said, motioning to the wadded paper he held.

“Back to bed.”  He tilted his head indicating I should get moving.

“I’m not five.  I don’t need to be told to go to bed.”

“Of course you’re not five.  A five-year-old would listen.”

His words hurt a little.  The scowl fell from my face, and I eyed him, wondering about his attitude.  He didn’t appear angry.

He saw something in my expression or scented something related to my emotions because he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, setting his chin on the top of my head.  He didn’t seem to mind my wet hair.  My cheek rested against his chest.

“I’m worried,” he admitted.  “Last night you seemed fine with everything that happened yesterday, but then you didn’t sleep.”  He paused for so long I thought he’d finished talking, but then he asked softly, “Are you planning on leaving?”

Leaving?  Despite everything I’d learned, I still felt safest here.  “No, Emmitt.  I’m not leaving.”  He hugged me close, causing my stomach and heart to go crazy.  I forced myself to keep still.

He cleared his throat and stepped back.

“Since you don’t want more sleep, do you want to come outside?  Jim and I were talking about going into town for a few things.”

“Sure.  Hold on,” I hopped off the stool and went to the room to get some money.  Two more twenties from the diminishing pile.  We needed milk and fresh produce.

He accepted the money with reluctance when I told him what I wanted him to pick up.  Before he left, he promised he and Jim would be back soon.  I went outside to play with Liam and Aden.  At least, I didn’t have to worry about the premonition anymore.

*    *    *    *

They returned well after lunch, pulling a trailer loaded with furniture.  Jim waved to the boys from the passenger window while Emmitt pulled up next to the garage to back the trailer closer to the house. Nana stepped onto the porch and helped direct Emmitt.

Liam and Aden climbed the tower attached to the swing set and watched.  I shaded my eyes and squinted at everything stacked on the trailer and in the bed of the truck.  There was so much.  A sense of anticipation filled me when I thought of living in the new apartment.  It would be our real home.  The permanence of that thought didn’t scare me as it once had.

Emmitt backed up until the gate hung over the steps then parked the truck.  He and Jim hopped out and got to work unloading everything.  No matter what it was, they made it look effortless.  Leather sofa, love seat, recliner, queen bed, bunk beds, dressers. They never appeared winded nor did they need a break.  I stayed with the boys until all the big pieces were inside.  Then, we followed.

I hadn’t been in the apartment since I’d given Emmitt my opinion on the bathroom color.  This time when I stepped into the kitchen from the hallway door, I looked at it with new eyes.

The living room was no longer a big, empty cavern.  The sofa and loveseat helped fill the space, making it look homey.  Someone had positioned both so they faced a widescreen television.  I wondered where the money had come from for all the new furniture.  The boys raced to the back of the apartment.  I watched Nana set the end tables near the sofa.

Feeling pensive, I moved to the boys’ bedroom where I heard Jim and Emmitt talking.  A bedframe, the first of a pair that would stack for bunk beds, lay half-assembled on the floor.  The boys squatted near, eagerly asking to help.  Jim handed them the screws and bolts to hold, and I smiled at their enthusiasm before glancing at the two matching dressers that sentineled one of the room’s windows.  A toy chest sat under the other window, leaving room for the bunk to abut the interior wall.

I watched from the doorway for a moment, wondering if my brothers thought of their room back home.  Large and open with a few toys to entertain their lonely hours locked inside, it had originally been the master suite.  After my mother died, Richard had contractors come to the house to make several changes.  In my grief, I noticed nothing until it was too late.  Bare, white institutional walls had replaced the beautiful decorations and colors my mom had contributed, and discreet locks had adorned the doors.

The room before me looked like a real room for two little boys.  Bittersweet thoughts of how my mom would react to Emmitt’s efforts filled me.

Leaving them to their work, I turned to check out the other room and froze in the doorway.  A queen-sized bed, assembled and made, sat between the two windows that faced the backyard.  A dresser sat against the wall to the right of the bed with a reading chair next to it.  The light from the nearby window made it a perfect spot to curl up with a book.  Beside the bed, the guys had set an end table with a lamp.

Decorated in shades of light brown and blues with green accents, the room reminded me of a day at the lake.  Specifically, the day Emmitt had asked me my favorite color.  My heart swelled a little though I tried to stop it.  I gently touched the light blue quilt patterned with beige stitching.  Why were my feelings toward Emmitt so chaotic?

Gorgeous, kind, and completely focused on me, I found him intense at times.  Knowing he considered me his and witnessing the vision about us left me floundering, wondering where we stood exactly.  If we were normal humans, I’d say we were just in the flirty stage of an almost relationship.  After his “mine” talk, I highly doubted he’d agree.

I heard the brush of a foot on the carpet behind me and turned.  Emmitt stood there.

“You worry too much,” he said softly.

Yeah, I did.  I smiled.  “Thank you for this.”

He nodded and seemed to want to say more, but Liam called him from the other room.  With an amused tilt to his lips, he answered his helper’s call and left me wondering what he hadn’t said.

Eager to give Emmitt his apartment back and to settle in our own, I started moving our few possessions.  With dressers for everyone, I enjoyed putting away our clothes.

“Michelle?” Nana called from the kitchen.

I closed Aden’s dresser drawer and left the boys with instructions to make their beds.  When I walked into the kitchen, I was surprised to see Nana there holding a large box.

“When I went rummaging, I was hoping you’d stay.  So, I picked up more than clothes.”  She set the box on the island, opened it, and showed me a set of pots and pans.  “There’s more in the garage.  Do you want me to bring it all up?”

I smiled and nodded.

After the boys finished their beds, they went to find Emmitt and Jim.  All four left the apartment, suspiciously quiet.  I walked through the rooms, looking for what trouble they might have gotten into.  Through the windows in my room drifted the sound of Aden laughing.  I peeked through the pretty gauze curtains and spotted him playing with Jim outside.

Smiling, I went back to help Nana.  We had a mountain of flatware, glassware, pots, and pans to labor through.  While we worked, she asked about my research the night before and told me more about her friend, Sam, who was her age, mild-mannered, and sounded like a nice grandfatherly sort.  She admitted that she humored him when he called for her input on the market, having no interest in it herself.