Emily’s Diary – Entry 30

Coming Clean

Until the project wraps up, Ben and I won't see each other, only talk on the phone. A few more days, and the all-nighters, the sleep deprivation and the constant stress will be over.

Of course, there had to be one last bit of drama: someone at the telecom operator had miscalculated, so for the final week I’m getting fifty percent more material than we originally agreed on.

Thessa has already made enough of a fuss to get them to pay for the extra availability, along with everything else she could possibly squeeze out of them. That didn’t sit right with me. When I was the one who screwed up, they didn’t start banging their fists on the table, even though I’d basically failed to deliver an entire day’s work.

I even suggested to Thessa that, for once, we could be the generous ones. But she countered that the operator was paying for the whole thing out of grant money and that you could make the paperwork say whatever you wanted. No doubt that was true, but someone on their side would still end up losing out. Or so I figure.

Whatever. I'll let the big players sort it out among themselves. Personally, when the telecom project manager called and apologized over and over, I told her it was no problem, I owed her one anyway. I didn't brag about that to Thessa. Let her be the asshole and me the nice one.

Anyway, I've gotten completely used to staying up all night. I couldn't fall asleep before 2:30 a.m. if I tried.

So Ben calls every morning and every night. He calls me Beautiful, and I melt. I'd love to have a pet name for him, too, but I just can't do it. I can't do the goo-goo talk, even though it doesn't sound like that at all coming from him. Somehow nothing like that ever comes out of my mouth, though I've spent a lot of time thinking about what I could come up with. Darling, sweetie, bunny, teddy bear: names like that make my skin crawl.

I tried working from what I love most about him. But since that turns out to be his decisiveness and his cock—or rather, his cock and his decisiveness—I’m in a bit of a bind. I can’t exactly call him Floppy or Fuck Machine…

His assertiveness, by the way, shows up in every area of life. He insisted on talking about my family. I'd brushed him off once already, but one evening I couldn't wriggle out of his questions.

"Why don't you ever tell me about your parents? Did they hurt you? You can tell me, I promise. Let me help," he purred into the phone.

The trouble with that voice is that it's hard to resist. And I didn't want him worrying about me. I started my confession with a giant sigh.

"My dad suffered from alcoholism. He died not too long ago. His body just gave out."

"I'm sorry. But that's a beautiful way to put it." He was quiet for a moment, but I could tell that wasn't enough for him. "Did he hurt you?"

Why does everyone ask that? Why does everyone assume that anyone who drinks is a violent animal?

"No, God, no. Never."

"Then what?"

"What do you mean, then what?"

"What was the problem?"

If only it were that simple. I sat on the balcony as if I weren't talking to my brand-new boyfriend above the lights of the night city but being grilled in some dark basement. I gripped the arm of my chair with everything I had.

"Honestly, I don't know. He was sweet, funny, but of course he always smelled pretty rank, poor guy. My mom and he never fought, or at least I never heard it. But at a school ceremony once, when I was getting an award in front of all the students and teachers, he decided he couldn't wait for me to walk back from the principal's podium to my classmates. He ran up to me and danced next to me, whooping. You know… tie hanging crooked, shirt wrinkled and sticking out all over the place. I wanted the floor to swallow me right there."

"Oh God, you poor thing," he whispered.

I'd have liked to stop there, but for some reason it wasn't enough for Ben. He was determined to know what happened next.

"My mom pulled me out of that school, moved me to a different one, and divorced Dad. He was usually the one who visited. I wasn't allowed to go to his place, in case he got wasted and something happened. Well, Mom was scared of that, not me. Of anything going wrong, I mean. As an adult I went to see him a few times, but by then he was drinking constantly. He spent the last two months of his life in the hospital. One on the internal medicine ward, the other in long-term care."

"And why did things go sour between you and your mom?"

I so badly wanted to tell him it was none of his fucking business, but I couldn't. He's right, he needs to know what kind of woman he's planning to tie his life to. Better to get it over with, it's just that I don't usually talk about this. Even my friends don't pick at it. They know it's a touchy subject, and they respect that.

"I'm mad at her for giving up on my father."

"What do you mean?"

By now Ben wasn't even bothering with appearances. He wanted to know everything, and he wanted it now. I guess it really is his cock I like best about him.

"Since Dad wasn't violent, she could have really helped him get off the booze. I mean, it's not like he drank because he was happy. Maybe she was the very thing that made him miserable."

“Did you ever ask her any of this?”

“Who?”

“Your mother.”

The way he said those two words—your mother—made the hairs on my arms stand on end.

"No, of course not. What for? She never talked about it, she just made comments, and I hated that. Sure, okay, he really did stink, and every thought he had revolved around alcohol, but still."

"And how come you don't have any siblings?" he asked, switching topics abruptly. Or maybe that was on his list of things to clear up, too.

"I don't know, I never asked. I was fine on my own."

"Hm."

That was a weird kind of hum. Apparently I'd given the wrong answer. I grew up without siblings. To me, that was normal.

"And you? What's your story? How are things with your parents?"

I could practically see his proud smile.

"My father is very old and ill. He needs round-the-clock care, so we had to put him in a nursing home. It's a great place, and they take excellent care of him. My mother's getting on in years, too. They had children relatively late. She's doing well, thank God, but she has trouble getting around."

Well, shit. So our kids are hardly going to have a grandmother. I can't count on mine, and his won't be physically up to it. Not great news.

"And your sibling?"

He gave a soft, satisfied chuckle.

"I have a little sister who lives abroad. You'll meet her, she's a gorgeous woman. She runs a modeling school in Italy. She modeled herself for years. Stunning and rich. Every man's dream."

I swallowed hard. Great. I sure as hell didn't feel like continuing the conversation after learning that everyone in Ben's family was wonderful, and that every man's dream was a gorgeous, rich woman.

And I'm not one.

"I can't wait to see you," I sighed.

That wasn't true at that moment, but I had to put an end to all of this.

"Me too, Beautiful. You have no idea how much. But you'll see next Saturday, because I've got a little surprise for you."

A pleasant tingle ran through me, but at the same time something heavy pressed on my chest. Please don't let another shitstorm be coming. I hope it's just the memory of that castle party haunting me, and that's why my body's reacting so stupidly. I want to be happy now, without a cloud in the sky. I worked for it. In every sense of the word.

Adele messaged everyone that her bar exam is on September twentieth, and until then we should forget she even exists. Meanwhile I couldn't help myself and ordered the bar counter, with four stools to go with it. The installers are coming at the beginning of the month. Even if something comes up, it'll be done well before Adele takes her exam. I won't tell anyone. I'll just invite everyone over to celebrate, and it'll be my gift to our new lawyer.

After that, we'll probably end up at my place even more. Honestly, I don't even mind. I like being the center of attention.

Still, for now I'm keeping my friends and Ben separate.