Page 101 of Last Night Was Fun

“In here!” her dad called from the kitchen.

The short entryway spilled into a living room lined with bookshelves and photos of the Jameson children through the years. Emmy always cringed at her awkward phase of braces and untamed hair so prominently on display—especially side by side with Piper, who’d never had a bad hair day in her life. Josh’s senior portrait hung among the spread, and every time she saw it, Emmy couldn’t help smiling back at his big grin, even if it was only a little bit.

“Hey, bro,” she murmured as she passed. Then she said, “Hi, Dad,” when she turned the corner into the open kitchen. It shared space with the family room where the muted TV was playing a baseball game happening on the East Coast.

“Hiya, sport!” her dad all but sang over his shoulder. He stood at the counter with his back to her stirring something in a pitcher. “Your mom told me you were coming over.” He turned around with a tray of lemonade and acrylic glasses. He nodded at the sliding door leading out into the yard. “Get the door for me, will you?”

Emmy followed his instruction and opened the door to the crown jewel of her parents’ property.

To help manage her grief when Josh died, Emmy’s mother had started gardening, and she never stopped. Now the backyard oasis verged on otherworldly with all the vines and blossoms, the pots and planters, the trellises and lattices. Emmy’s thumbs were the furthest things from green; she didn’t even know what half of the plants were called. But her mother tended to every petal and leaf with the same care she gave her patients.

Vera stood on the yard’s upper level pointing a hose at a pot of flowers the color of a construction cone. Her Crocs looked like a pair of rubber ducks on her feet. “Hi, sweetie!” she called with a wave.

“Hi, Mom.” Emmy waved back and pulled out a chair at the patio table. She saw her dad’s e-reader sitting there with his smudged reading glasses on top of it. Reading and gardening were her parents’ favorite ways to spend a Saturday morning.

Frank busied himself pouring lemonade while Vera finished spritzing her plants. She eventually returned the hose to its hook and made her way down the two short steps to the patio.

“Here you go,” Frank said, and handed Emmy a glass before he sat adjacent to her.

“How was your first week back at work?” Vera asked, and sank into the chair opposite them. She wiped her hands on her jeans and grabbed the glass Frank had poured for her.

Their unconditional welcome, the way they seamlessly folded her into their day without thought, broke something loose inside Emmy. A hard sob shook her. She clapped her hand over her suddenly wet eyes and took a shuddering breath.

“Sorry,” she sobbed.

She instantly heard the scrape of a chair and sensed her mother move beside her. She felt her father’s hand land on her arm. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Vera asked as she wrapped her arm around her shoulder.

Emmy fought to keep her tears at bay but couldn’t. Not with the two people who loved her most in the world at her sides, and not when she’d been damming it all back for so long. “I messed up,” she choked out.

Vera squeezed her tighter. “Oh, honey. Whatever it is, I’m sure it can be fixed.”

Emmy dropped her hand from her face and met her mother’s concerned eyes. The ache in her own chest was reflected right back at her. “No, I don’t think it can.”

“Tell us what happened, honey,” her dad said, and squeezed her arm again.

Emmy pulled in another shaky breath and did her best to speak. She didn’t really know where to start. “You know how I brought Gabe to the wedding as a friend?”

Her parents swapped a knowing glance.

“Well, that wasn’t the truth,” Emmy said.

Her mother gently smoothed her hair behind her ear. “Darling, you don’t have to tell us that. It was obvious you are more than friends.”

“It was?” Emmy asked weepily.

“Yes,” Vera said with a soft smile and a warm glow in her eyes.

“Gabe is really great,” her dad chimed in. “The two of you make a great pair.”

Emmy sobbed again, feeling like her heart split another crack. Her next set of words came tumbling out in a pained rush. “Well, the whole truth is, we met weeks ago, not knowing it, and now we want to be together, but we can’t because we’re up for the same promotion, and they’re making us choose between the job and a relationship.”

As she ached over everything at stake, her parents exchanged a confused look.

“What do you mean you met weeks ago not knowing it?” her mom asked. “I thought you’d been working together for years.”

Realizing she was going to have to tell them everything, she took a breath and started from the beginning, from the day she got theLast night was funtext that started it all.She told them about the texting, the baseball bruise, the bachelorette party, the big reveal, a PG-13 version of what happened in Mexico, their agreement, how they didn’t even make it one day when they got home before they reunited, how Alice had told her the promotion was all but hers, how they wanted to be together, and how HR had thrown a giant, heartbreaking wrench into their plan.

By the time she finished, her father was pouring them all a second round of lemonade.