Crystal Ball

Jack

I loved hanging out with Emma and getting to know Janie, but I felt like I needed to talk to Emma alone. “So,” I began as I bit the end of my breadstick. We were at my apartment, where Emma had helped me make dinner after she dropped Janie at her dad’s. “There’s one thing we haven’t talked about. And I’m kind of curious.”

“Yes?” she prompted, her eyebrow raised in interest as she dipped her breadstick in her spaghetti sauce.

“Have you told Steve?”

“Have I told who what?” Her eyebrows bunched together, confusion overtaking her features.

“Have you told Steve about Janie?”

Emma shook her head. “Why would I?”

“Because he’s her father.” I mean, he had to be; Steve was the only guy she had dated in high school, therefore he had to be the father. “Right?” I watched her carefully as she stared into the soup in front of her.

“No, I haven’t told him,” she answered, her voice low. But her sudden distance from the conversation made me wonder what she wasn’t saying. Emma had always been fairly easy to read, and if that was still true, then she was definitely hiding something.

I let the subject go, not wanting to push her. We finished our meal, talked about her work, about Janie, and about plans to get together soon. She helped clean up, then said kissed my cheek as she shrugged on her jacket. “See you tomorrow.”



“What’s eating you?” Alex asked as we watched the Ravens game later that night. His eyes were on the TV as he shoved chips into his mouth.

“Hmm, nothing.” I chewed my lip, desperately fighting to keep my mouth closed and the words that wanted to be said from spilling out. But they both betrayed me, the topic that had been burning my mind all day coming out. “Its just something Emma said.”

“Oh.” He turned to look at me, his face blank, but I could tell I had piqued his interest. The bag of chips now sat untouched beside him and his fingers began to play with the end of his shirt, a nervous habit. “What’d she say?”

“Well, it was more what she didn’t say,” I clarified.

“Which was?”

I ignored the fact that Alex preferred to avoid the topic of Emma at all costs and had done so for over four years, instead pressing on because I knew deep down that she still mattered to him. “Well,” I began slowly, fitting my thoughts into the right words. “We went out to lunch today and I asked her if she had told Steve about Janie.”

When I noticed Alex’s hands turn to fists in his lap at the mention of Emma’s high school boyfriend, I continued hurriedly. “When she didn’t answer right away, I asked if he really was Janie’s father. Even though he has to be, she only ever had one boyfriend. And since she was pregnant when she left…”

“What’re you getting at?” he asked through his teeth.

“I don’t know. I guess I just figured that you knew her better back then. So maybe you’d know why she got all weird when I brought up Janie’s dad.”

“Weird?” he asked, his hard mask falling a fraction, an eyebrow rising.

“Like staring off at nothing. I don’t know, I just felt like there was something she wasn’t telling me.” Alex seemed done with the conversation, no longer contributing to the dialogue. “I know you’re not really her biggest fan right now, but she’s still the same Emma from high school. I thought you’d be more happy that she’s back.”

“She is not the same Emma. And she never will be. Not after she left.” He pushed himself from the couch, dusting chip debris from his clothes. He opened his mouth to say something else, but I cut him off.

“I’ve been wondering about that, too. What did you two talk about before she left?”

“What do you mean?” he asked slowly.

“It’s something she mentioned a while ago at Rian’s. She said she didn’t blame you for being mad at her after what she said to you. But she wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

Alex spun around and walked to the door without a word. I guess I hit a nerve.


Emma

I had just put Janie to bed when a loud knocking sounded throughout the apartment. I rushed to the door, practically flinging it open in order to stop the banging. “Yes?” I asked before I had even seen who was standing in the hall.

“What did you say to Jack?” he started, his voice harsh. He stood with his arms extended, one hand on either side of the door, making his presence overbearing.

I took a step back. “Well hello to you, too,” I attempted to joke to lighten the sudden dank mood that was beginning to settle over me. I sighed when he didn’t respond, or relax. “Could you be more specific?”

“About you leaving. And about high school for that matter,” he practically spat, his usually milk chocolate eyes turning to a flat black.

“Alex.” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “You’re not making any sense.”

He took a step away from the door, into the apartment. I was beginning to feel like his prey, slowly backing away as he ventured closer. It dawned on me that I had never seen this Alex, the angry Alex who seemed to show no signs of kindness. Nor had I ever been this scared of him, I had never felt afraid in Alex’s presence before.

“I need to know what you guys talked about today.” His voice had evened out but it still held an edge, an emotion I couldn’t pinpoint.

“A-Alex.”

“I need you to tell me.”

Shakily, I answered. “He asked about Janie.”

“What about her?” he pressed. He spoke slowly and through gritted teeth as if he were talking to a child, pulling each word from me individually.

“A-about her father,” I stammered.

“And?”

“And what?” I retorted, growing frustrated by his line of questioning. I could feel my cheeks flaming and hoped Alex believed it was from my increasing anger rather than the embarrassment I felt from the situation.

“What did you tell Jack?”

“I didn’t tell him anything. He asked if Steve knew about Janie. I said no. End of story.”

His eyes met mine. “So he is her father then.” His eyes didn’t leave mine. I knew he had always been able to tell if I was lying. Except for that day, he believed every lie I told him the day I left.

I shrugged, too tired from the conversation to answer, and hoped that he still couldn’t read me.

“You either know or you don’t, Emma. Which is it?”

“I think you should leave,” I said instead, my voice small. “Janie is sleeping down the hall.” I felt detached from my body, from the room, from the situation at hand, as if I were watching a scene from a movie where I had no connection to the characters.

Alex nodded slowly, his eyes on the hall to my back. Before he turned to walk away from me and the apartment I shared with my daughter, he spoke slow and as truthful as I had ever heard him speak. “I loved you, you know. I meant it. But you said you were in love with Steve. If that was true, why did you leave him too? Was it all a lie?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, not that I had one. As the door closed behind him, the first of many tears fell from my eyes as I thought of Janie and the web of lies I had formed around her.