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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Aug 29, 2008 21:05:17 GMT -5
“You were different,” Colette said, though she knew he wasn’t really. “You never tried to trick me.” “But I failed to publicly acknowledge our relationship,” Fernald reminded his wife. “And I forced you to do the same.” “But you had a reason. You said that if Olaf found out that you and I were involved, then he would have you kicked out of the troupe.” “Looking back on it, I realize that my decision was based on selfishness rather than cowardice. I don’t think that Olaf would have given so much as a damn if he discovered that you and I were romantically involved. My decision was aimed more towards my fear of losing you than anything else. People in Olaf’s troupe always seemed to be disbanding, or dying. And I didn’t want to experience anymore pain than I had already.” As Fernald said this, he looked down at his hooked hands, and sighed deeply. “You could have just told me,” Colette said, extending her thin wrist and wrapping her equally thin fingers around her husband’s hook. Fernald looked up. “Would you have understood?” he asked. *** “Nero, I highly doubt that my parents keep any desert in the house. You know how picky Esmé is about that sort of thing,” Carmelita said from where she stood at the kitchen sink, washing the dishes. “Then we’ll just have to stop off at the Very Fancy Desserts Bakery on the way home,” Nero concluded as he set the dish that his wife had just washed inside the drainer. “What happened to that bag of chocolate that your student bought you?” “I gave it to Emma after I made her promise not to get into anymore fights at school.” “The same bag of chocolate that she offered to Faust?” Nero shrugged. “How should I know?” he asked. “So,” said Carmelita, “what happened this evening is partly your doing.” “I didn’t give a kid diagnosed with A.D.H.D. chocolate!” “No, but it belonged to you.”Carmelita finished off another dish, and handed it to Nero. He set it neatly down in the drainer and then turned to his wife. “Don’t tell your mother,” he said. “After all, it’ll just give her another excuse to hate me.” *** Esmé was sitting at her vanity, running a comb through her long, dark hair. She had already changed into her favorite white nightgown, and just finished spraying on the lavender-scented perfume that drove her husband absolutely crazy. “Would you mind very much if I offered to give Carmy and Nero a ride home?” Jerome asked, as he leaned over to kiss his wife on the cheek. “I just hate the thought of them driving home at night in a taxi.” “Not at all, darling,” Esmé said. “You’re sure you’ll be alright?” “Yes, Jerome, I’ll be fine. Emma will be here to keep me company.” Reason for Editing: Had to change the name of the bakery.
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Post by Jenny on Aug 30, 2008 11:28:04 GMT -5
Jerome knew it was irrational for him to be afraid of leaving his wife and stepdaughter at home alone, but the more he attempted to rationalize it, the more he thought. What if someone broke in, and found them? Jerome wasn't sure if his presence in the apartment if someone did break in to the penthouse (which would be extremely difficult, considering the doorman and the number of floors they were away from the ground) would help much anyway, but that didn't stop him from being terribly scared of the idea.
His wife looked over her shoulder when he made no attempt to leave the room, and smiled. 'What?' she chuckled. 'Carmy and Nero are in the kitchen, dear, not here.'
He might have been a little surprised at being dismissed in such a way from the room, had his wife not been smiling back at him in the mirror reassuringly, in case he had thought she was angry.
~
'Of course I would've,' Colette convinced, but she wasn't so sure it was true herself, and before she could take in her husband's look of scepticism, she cleared her throat. 'We should go find Faust, before we get dragged back in We'll never find our way to the door again.'
He chuckled, and put his arm around his wife's shoulders. 'Faust?' he called, 'Faust, it's time to go!'
~
'I'm sorry I was so mean to you,' Emma told the younger girl quietly. 'It's just I was so worried about how my mother would react. You really do seem like a nice person, and I hope you'd still like to be friends.'
Faust couldn't express her happiness, so she just grinned widely and nodded. 'Yes, of course I would!'
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Aug 30, 2008 14:56:23 GMT -5
The two girls had just finished up a game of dominos (which Emma had discovered in a dusty corner of her bedroom), and were sitting on the hardwood floor in one of the standing rooms when Fernald’s voice cut through the air. Faust glanced up. “That’ll be my dad,” she informed the older girl. “You go on ahead,” Emma said, giving no thought to the idea that Faust wouldn’t be able to find her way back to her parents. “I’m just going to put away the dominos, and I’ll catch up. It’s just that my stepfather is very strict when it comes to being neat and tidy.” “My bedroom at home is a mess,” Faust said. “Dad’s always after me to clean it up, but I never do.” Emma shook her head, and smiled. “On second thought,” she said, “why don’t you hold on a minute so I can show you where the front door is? Sometimes I forget what a large apartment I live in, and so I forget that it’s possible for visitors to get lost.” “Maybe next time, you can come to my house. I have a trampoline in the backyard, and a tire swing that my dad tied to a tree for me.” Emma dumped the dominos noisily back into their box and then slid it underneath a footstool. She made a mental note to come back later and retrieve the box, just because it would come in handy during future visits with Faust. “That would be smashing,” Emma said, and Faust’s grin broadened. *** It had taken some effort on Esmé’s part, but she had finally convinced Jerome that she and Emma could be left alone for half an hour in the penthouse while he drove Carmelita and Nero home. Esmé stood in the doorway of the master bedroom, her shoulder and hip pressed against the doorframe as she blew Jerome a kiss. “I love you,” she said. His cheeks reddened, and he waved to his wife from over his shoulder. “I love you, too,” he said. Not wanting to lose his nerve, he turned and walked briskly down the hallway before he could rush back over to Esmé and sweep her into his arms.
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Post by Jenny on Aug 30, 2008 15:24:25 GMT -5
Carmelita had forced Nero to put away the dishes she had washed and half-dried herself to even out the amount of work they had done, and she was the first to see Jerome enter the dining room again.
'Is Esmé alright?' she asked before he had chance to speak. She had been worried about her mother since she had run out of the dining room in tears earlier, but she trusted that Jerome was able to handle her. She felt bad for not going to check on her adoptive mother sooner, but she had been too busy arguing to take any leave from the room.
'She's fine,' he answered. 'Would you like me to drive you home? I hate the thought of you having to get a taxi at this time of night.'
'As long as it's not any trouble,' Carmelita said, and smiled at her adoptive father. She of all people knew how much it pained him to have to leave Esmé at home during the night, and how nervous it made him, and she felt flattered that he would overcome the fear of leaving her alone because of his concern over his twenty-six year-old daughter and husband getting a taxi at night.
'Of course not,' Jerome assured. 'It'll give me a chance to catch up with you, as well. I feel as if I've hardly seen you all evening.'
~
'Sorry, Mr Widdershins,' Emma said as she and Faust reappeared. 'I stole your daughter to play some dominoes.'
Nobody except Colette seemed to notice that she pointedly had not apologized to Mrs Widdershins, who had been the one left alone in the hallway in the first place. The blonde woman took a side-glance at her husband, but he didn't look back. She deserved it, after all.
'Don't worry about it,' he replied, as his daughter settled herself in under his arm. 'But I must say, your mother was very surprised to see me, Emma.'
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Aug 30, 2008 16:46:49 GMT -5
“Oh,” Emma said, realizing for the first time that she hadn’t planned for this. “Yes, well… I knew that if I asked you to come to my mother’s room, you would probably refuse. And my mother is so unbelievably stubborn I was certain that she wasn’t going to come out for the rest of the night! I just… I just wanted you to patch things up. Otherwise, how will Faust and I be able to form a proper friendship? It seemed like the only choice I had was in fabricating the truth just a little bit.”
“You’re a very clever girl, Emma,” Fernald said, and reached down with one of his hooks to ruffle her hair. “You get that from your mother, I expect. Normally, I don’t approve of lying, but I suppose that in this case it was quite necessary.”
“I invited Emma to come to our house next time,” Faust spoke up, and both of her parents looked down at her.
Like she tended to do with her mouth, Faust didn’t always consider ideas before suggesting them. For one thing, the kitchen ceiling in the Widdershins household leaked every time it rained, as did the ceiling in Faust’s bedroom. Every time it rained or stormed, she would be forced to drag her mattress into her parents’ bedroom until the rain had stopped. It embarrassed Fernald to admit that he couldn’t afford to fix the roof, but it was either that or go a month without food, and he couldn’t very well let his family starve to death simply for the sake of staying dry.
“We’ll see,” Fernald said finally, and turned towards the front door just as Jerome Squalor entered the hallway with Carmelita and Nero.
“Fernald?” Jerome asked. “You’re still here? I thought you’d left long ago!”
Fernald turned back at the sound of the voice, his smile faltering as his eyes made contact with those of Carmelita. “No,” he said. “Faust decided to go off with Emma and play a game of dominoes. My family and I were just on our way out the door.”
“Well, I was on my way out to drive Carmelita and Nero home. Why don’t we share an elevator together?”
Of course, Jerome’s only intention with this was to be polite. It had completely slipped his mind that Carmelita might not like the idea of sharing an elevator with the circus performer after the argument the two of them had recently had.
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Post by Jenny on Aug 31, 2008 12:03:16 GMT -5
He recieved two decidedly unpleasant looks from his adopted daughter and the contortionist, but nobody openly objected to the idea. Faust seemed delighted, and merrily joined hands with both of her parents. 'Emma,' she said. 'Why don't you come down too? To say goodbye.'
Everyone else smiled, but Jerome felt a bolt of fear hit him directly in the chest. If Emma left the apatment, that meant that Esmé would be up her alone.
'No, Emma,' he said quickly, before his stepdaughter could accept the offer, as she was obviously about to do. 'You stay up here, with your mother.'
'She'll be OK for a minute or so, I should think,' Emma looked a little annoyed, and he had no hope of explaining how much this bothered him with everybody else staring at him so strangely. It was only Carmelita who sensed what he was so worried about, and she lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. 'It'll be fine,' she told him quietly, and he nodded. It was really about time he got over his irrational fear.
'Alright,' he said, unable to bear the irritation on his stepdaughters face any longer. 'Just promise me you'll go straight back up.'
'OK, Jerome,' Emma said, and was the first out of the door and into the elevator, Faust hopping after her excitedly, followed by the trailing adults. Carmelita and Nero cramped themselves into one corner of the large elevator, where Colette and Fernald did exacty the same in another corner. Jerome stood in the middle of the floor, and Emma and Faust chattered excitedly at the front.
He wasn't sure if the Widdershins' knew that the elevator ride of 66 floors did take quite a while, and he wasn't convinced they were going to be able to be that standoffish for the entire duration of the ride. Fernald was the first to give in, and crossed to stand beside Jerome. 'This is our address, and our phone number. Colette doesn't think you'll want to call us--' That wasn't strictly true, Colette hoped they wouldn't call them. '--but I just hope Emma and Faust can be friends, even if Colette and Esmé might never get on.'
Jerome smiled. 'That's a very nice thought,' he said, quite pleased. 'I'll be sure to contact you. The holiday's are coming up after all, and it would be lovely if the two of them could meet up.'
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Aug 31, 2008 13:28:51 GMT -5
[I had a thought right after I read your post: what do you think of doing a scene revolving around Christmas at the penthouse? Oh, and I changed the name of the bakery to Very Fancy Desserts, just because I think it sounds better.] Carmelita and Nero shared a look. Out of everyone the couple knew, Jerome Squalor was most certainly the kindest. It was just that his kindness tended to get him into trouble and often backfired in his face (much like it had that evening), as well as the faces of everyone else. Emma and Faust, of course, were delighted by the proposal. And it was this proposal that was the topic of their discussion for the remainder of the ride down to the lobby. Emma was so excited that she nearly followed Jerome and the others through the front doors, only to have her stepfather remind her gently to return to the elevators. “I won’t be anymore than half an hour at the most,” he said. “Give your mother a hug and a kiss for me, alright?” “Of course,” Emma replied as she trotted across the tiled floor back toward the elevators. “Drive safely.” Once he had seen to it that his stepdaughter had disappeared in the direction of the elevators, Jerome turned back to the others. “Well,” he said, “let’s head out, shall we?” Everyone headed out into the darkness: Jerome, Carmelita, and Nero escorting the Widdershins to their car where they all said goodbye. Afterward, Jerome led his adopted daughter and son-in-law down into the parking garage. Once everyone had piled into Jerome’s Mercedes, Nero made the request that Carmelita had been hoping he would refrain from asking until she and her husband had at least gotten home. “Would it be too much trouble if I asked to make a brief stop at the Very Fancy Desserts Bakery?” Nero asked Jerome. Carmelita sighed outwardly, leaning her elbow against the window frame and pressing her hand against her forehead. “Why, it wouldn’t be any trouble at all,” Jerome answered cheerfully. He was far too polite to add that he hoped Nero wouldn’t take too long, as Jerome was still a little nervous about leaving Esmé alone for more than half an hour, even with Emma there to keep an eye on her mother. “Nero, I really wish you wouldn’t put Jerome to such trouble,” Carmelita said carefully, so was not to start an argument right there in the car and upset her adoptive father. “But he just said that it wouldn’t be any trouble,” Nero whined. Carmelita could see the worry in Jerome’s eyes as she caught sight of his face in the rearview mirror.
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Post by Jenny on Aug 31, 2008 15:26:19 GMT -5
'Nero,' she snapped. 'Come on. Jerome's just being polite. It was very kind of him to offer us a lift, and it isn't fair that we ask him to stop half way home. It's late.'
Nero could see his wife becoming annoyed, but he couldn't understand why she was being so unreasonable. After all, Jerome could easily have declined to stop on the way back--he had only politely requested that they stop, it was not like he had demanded it.
'If Jerome would rather not stop,' he answered. 'Then he's free to say so, isn't he?'
'Oh, Nero, that isn't fair!' Carmelita cried, knowing how much her stepfather disliked arguing and being seen to be impolite, and yet also knowing how desperately he wanted to get back to the penthouse to check on Esmé and Emma. Jerome would never refuse of his own accord, as she well knew, and the last thing she wanted was to put him on the spot.
'He said it wouldn't be too much trouble, Carmy, and in my book that means that he doesn't mind!'
'Nero, can't you see how insanely irritating you are?'
Carmelita might have continued her argument had she not seen the despairing look on her adoptive father's face.
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Aug 31, 2008 16:36:41 GMT -5
“Please,” Jerome said, and it was easy to tell by the tone of his voice that he was on the verge of tears. “I’m begging you both: don’t argue about this. I— I want to stop. Now let’s not make a— thing of this, alright?” “Jerome—” Carmelita started. “It’s no trouble.” Before Carmelita and Nero could continue their argument, Jerome started up the motor, hoping that would be enough to silence his adopted daughter and her husband. Even as they left the parking garage and headed out into the night, Jerome could feel the tension between Carmelita and Nero as it hung over the Mercedes like an angry storm cloud. *** Five minutes later, Jerome parked the car in front of the Very Fancy Desserts Bakery. He waited until Nero had climbed out and heard the door slam shut before letting out a small whimper of a sob. Carmelita, who had chosen to stay behind in order to shake off her anger, tilted her head to the side in concern. “Oh, Jerome…” “I can’t stand it,” he cried from where his arms were crossed over the steering wheel. “I can’t stand arguing!” Carmelita extended her arm, and placed a hand on Jerome’s shoulder. She frowned, feeling him tremble beneath her touch. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Still, it was very kind of you to make a special trip just for the sake of my obnoxious husband.” Jerome laughed through his tears, sniffling as he lifted his head up from the wheel. He glanced at himself in the rearview mirror, frowning. “I look terrible,” he confirmed. “I daresay Esmé isn’t going to let me alone until I’ve told her why my face is all red.”
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Post by Jenny on Sept 11, 2008 13:33:08 GMT -5
'You can just tell her it was because of Nero,' Carmelita answered. 'She could do with a few more recent reasons to hate him, after all.'
'She already has him driving into the supermarket window,' Jerome reminded, breaking a smile just about.
'...I'm not sure that's quite recent enough,' his step daughter laughed, and would have continued had her husband not climbed back into the back of the car next to her. Carmelita let out a long sigh, and shrugged out of Nero's grip as his hand came to rest on hers.
'Carmy--' he began, but she caught his eye quickly, and he stopped. Although they weren't arguing, Jerome still had the same feeling in his stomach, the same dread in the back of his mind. But nevertheless, he continued to drive, hoping that Carmelita and Nero would refrain from arguinga ny more until he at least dropped them off.
-
Emma had been climbing the stairs of 667 Dark Avenue for what felt like hours, but what couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. There had been a problem with the elevators when she had last stepped off them, and now they refused to open, so she was forced to trudge up all 66 floors. She never walked all of the floors in the building before--not all 66, at least, but what worried her more than fatigue was the fact that her mother was going to be left alone for quite a while at this rate, and Jerome would surely be mad with panic when he realized. She just hoped that her mother was in a rational mood, until she at least found her way back to the penthouse.
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Sept 11, 2008 14:39:34 GMT -5
[My sincerest apologies for the length of this next post.] One of Esmé’s greatest fears had always been that Olaf would someday return and steal Emma away from her. And it was this very thought that struck Esmé as she dashed from one room to the next, screaming for her daughter, who failed to answer her. “Emma,” Esmé shouted, her voice sore and hoarse from all the screaming she had done over the past twenty minutes. “Emma!”As Esmé felt the panic overtake her, her heart began to race, and she collapsed on her knees in the hallway. Jerome wasn’t back yet, and she was all alone. What if someone (not necessarily her villainous ex-boyfriend) had broken into the penthouse and was holding Emma against her will in one of the rooms? There were so many, that Esmé couldn’t be sure if she had even checked them all. This thought quickly confirmed her fear that she wasn’t alone, and her panic intensified. She began to tremble, but managed to hoist herself up into a standing position. What if someone who wasn’t her husband or daughter was watching her? What if they were waiting until she was at her most vulnerable before they grabbed her, too? It was all so much to bear, and she felt her legs gave out from underneath her. Crying softly, she threw herself down on the carpet and buried her face in her hands. *** The drive to Carmelita and Nero’s apartment proved to be pleasant enough, Jerome supposed. He had heard his adopted daughter whisper to her husband about how he’d “better not dare say anything else to upset Jerome”, at which point Nero had grunted. To Jerome’s great relief, that was all Nero had to say. Once it became apparent that there would be no more arguing for the remainder of the drive, Jerome took the opportunity to tune the radio to N.P.R. to help himself relax. By the time they arrived at Carmelita and Nero’s apartment, the tension in the car seemed to have vanished. “We’d invite you in for coffee,” Carmelita said to her adoptive father from where she was standing with her husband on the curb, “but we know you’re eager to get home to Esmé and Emma.” “Thank you for understanding,” Jerome said from his place behind the wheel. “I’m just sorry that this evening didn’t go exactly as planned.” “Me, too. I just feel sorry for Faust, being forced to grow up with a person like Colette Widdershins for a mother.” Jerome didn’t bother to mention how impolite that was, considering that the terrible evening was over— or so he thought. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said. “I was thinking of stopping by the bank and taking Esmé out to lunch at Café Salmonella.” “That would be fabulous,” said Carmelita. “I’d love it if you two came by. It’ll be nice to have a meal together when everyone isn’t shouting at each other.” “Until tomorrow, then,” Jerome said, and started up the motor. “Have a good night, and give the twins my love.” With a wave of his hand, he pulled away from the curb and headed off in the direction of 667 Dark Avenue. *** Another twenty minutes had passed since Emma had begun climbing the spiral staircase leading up to the penthouse. But she supposed it could have been more, considering that she had stopped to rest several times. She wondered how Jerome had handled it thirteen years earlier, when her mother had had the elevators removed after they had been declared out? Apparently, Emma had not been paying very close attention to where she was. As she looked up, she realized that she had come to the final five or so steps of the spiral staircase, and she could see the front door of the penthouse staring back at her. With something that was half a sigh and half a groan, she hurried up the remaining steps to the door. Her heart still full of concern for her mother, Emma wasted no time in throwing open the door and sweeping into the penthouse. She was just about to rush down the hallway to her mother’s bedroom to tell her about the elevators when the teenager suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Curled up in a tight ball in the middle of the hallway was Esmé. Even though she was about ten or so feet from the door where Emma stood, it wasn’t difficult to tell that the woman was shivering. Emma screamed, and rushed over to her mother’s side.
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Post by Jenny on Sept 25, 2008 12:11:57 GMT -5
Emma's appearance was quite sudden, and Esmé gave a shocked jolt as her daughter threw her arms around her.
'Mother!' Emma cried, an unpleasant feeling rising in her stomach. If only she hadn't gone down to the lobby and left her here all by herself, she wouldn't be in this state at all! 'Are you alright?'
Emma knew that was a stupid question considering the position she had found her mother in to begin with, but Emma had nothing else to say. She wasn't good like Jerome at handling her mother when she was worked up or upset. However, Emma knew that it was going to be an hour before Jerome was home at least--he wasn't as thin as she was, and couldn't run up the stairs like she had for the most part, and he was probably still in his car to boot.
Esmé's breath was coming in short little gasps, and although she attempted to explain what had gotten her into such a state, she was unable to. So Emma simply settles for wrapping her arms around her mother and rubbing her back comfortingly, which eventually managed to comfort her enough for her to explain.
'I thought something had happened to you,' Esmé whispered, her voice still very hoarse and quiet. 'I called and called for you, but you didn't answer. I thought--' Esmé couldn't very well reveal that she'd thought Emma's evil father had come back from the dead and was holding her hostage. 'I thought you were hurt, or unconscious, or--'
'It's ok,' Emma interrupted, feeling her mother's tears still on her shoulder. 'Everything's fine.' Emma reached onto the side table and retrieved one of the 102 phones in the penthouse and worriedly dialed her stepfather's number.
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Sept 25, 2008 14:13:26 GMT -5
Jerome had just finished parking his car in its usual spot inside the parking garage, when he felt a vibration coming from within the pocket of his blazer. He reached inside for his cell phone and flipped it open, recognizing the number displayed on the screen as that of the penthouse. He gasped, and pressed the phone against his ear.
“Hello?”
“Jerome?” It was Emma. “Where are you?”
“I’m in my car,” Jerome told her, “inside the parking garage. I just got back. Is something wrong?”
“It’s Mother,” Emma went on, and Jerome felt a lump rise up in his throat at that. “The elevators aren’t working, so I had to take the stairs back up to the penthouse. When I arrived, I found Mother lying in the hallway, all hysterical. She thought something bad had happened to me.”
“Are you with her now?” Jerome asked as he climbed out of his car and shut the door, locking it.
“Yes,” Emma said. “She’s right here.”
“Put her on, will you?”
“Of course.”
Jerome made his way out of the garage and rounded the corner to the steps, which led up to the front doors of the lobby. He had just reached them when a soft, tearful voice answered from the other line.
“Jero-ome?”
“Darling,” Jerome said, as he pushed open one of the doors and entered the lobby. “Are you alright?”
“Emma said the elevators are out,” Esmé said. “How long do you think it’ll take you to climb the stairs and reach the penthouse?”
“Well, I’ve only just come to the spiral staircase. So I should be there in about an hour and a half.”
“But it only took Emma forty-five minutes.”
“Yes, but she’s a lot more fit than I am.”
Jerome heard Esmé sniffle as he began to ascend the spiral staircase, one hand holding the phone to his ear while the other held firmly to the banister. “But I miss you,” Esmé said childishly, and she began to weep softly.
“I’ll be there just as soon as I can, sweetheart,” Jerome assured her. At the back of his mind, he silently scolded himself for letting Emma accompany him and the others down to the lobby.
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Post by Jenny on Sept 25, 2008 14:33:36 GMT -5
'Soon,' Esmé insisted, punctuated with a little half-sob at the end of the word. Jerome's heart lurched, and he started on the stairs, throwing a glance at the elevators and the burly man attempting to fix them. Why did this have to happen? Didn't they know how important it was that he got up there quickly? If Esmé had been on her own, there was no telling what she could have done!
He quickly banished the thought, and started on a slow jog. 'Darling,' he said into the phone. 'I promise you I'll be up there as soon as possible. Until then, how about you ask Emma to make you a cup of tea, and you get yourself into bed and have a lie down?'
'O--Okay,' she said hoarsely, and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand.
'Okay,' he repeated, and would have smiled if he weren't so desperate to get up to the penthouse as quickly as possible. 'Now, would you mind putting Emma back on? I'd just like to have a talk with her.'
'Ok,' his wife said again, shakily. He could tell from her voice how terrified she must have been when nobody was around, and he increased his pace a little. He was starting to become very tired very quickly, and he still had another fifty floors to go. What was he going to do?
'Jerome?' The voice from the other end of his stepdaughter sounded again.
'Emma,' he said, huffing a little. 'I need you to amke your mother some tea, or cocoa. Just something to calm her down. And make sure you settle her down and get her to lie down, otherwise she'll likely stay like this.' He pused, and bit his lip. 'And her medication is in the cabinet in our ensuite bathroom,' he said. 'Two of those should help her. Don't give her the bottle, Emma--you count them yourself, OK? This is very important.'
'OK,' Emma replied. 'I'll see you in--what floor are you on?'
Jerome looked to the side, and felt a sinking feeling in his gut. 'Seventeen,' he said disappointedly.
'I'll see you in about an hour then, I guess,' Emma said unhappily. 'Bye, Jerome.'
~
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Sept 25, 2008 15:45:17 GMT -5
Emma set the telephone back inside of its receiver, and then turned her attention back to her mother. “Jerome thinks it would be best for you to lie down,” Emma said. “Here, I’ll help you back to bed.”
“I’m quite capable of getting there on my own, Emma,” Esmé replied, even though she rose to her feet rather shakily. She didn’t complain as her daughter put her arm around her back and led her down the hallway to the master bedroom.
“Darling,” Esmé said a few minutes later as she pulled the quilt that Cora Squalor had made for her tightly around her shivering shoulders. “Would you do me a favor before you go make the tea?”
“Anything,” replied Emma.
“Will you run to the bathroom and get me my pills?”
“How many do you need? Jerome said you can have two.”
Holding up her slender, trembling hand, Esmé held up two fingers.
Emma ran into the bathroom and quickly retrieved her mother’s medication from the cabinet above the sink, along with a glass of water. She dropped the pills into Esmé’s outstretched hand, and waited as she downed them with a few gulps of water.
“Thank you, Emma,” Esmé said. “I don’t know what I would’ve done had you not returned when you did.”
Emma didn’t like to think about it, and she hung back for a few moments until her mother assured her that everything would be fine.
“Would you like tea or cocoa?” Emma asked.
“Tea will be fine,” Esmé said, and snuggled back down into the blankets. She could feel the tranquilizers beginning to do their job, as her trembling began to ease and her fear diminished.
She only hoped that her medication would allow her to stay awake long enough to greet Jerome when he finally arrived. She didn’t want to go to sleep until she had felt the gentle touch of his lips on hers, and the warmth of his hand as it caressed her stomach.
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