Highway Princess - 6

In the following days, Emma and Carmel found a daily routine that fit both of them. Standing with a mug in front of the kitchen’s window, Emma would watch her natural mother as she started each morning with a physical exercises, out in the back, using two water bottles as weights, and then doing some shadow boxing. Later, while Emma made her phone calls and sent away her CV via email, Carmel would go to the supermarket for provisions. Emma wondered what the other shoppers would make of that big blonde in jeans, but she was slowly getting used to Carmel and her looks. Her high heels, her tattoos, her piercings.
“This I got whole I was in juvie,” Carmel said, leaning her head to one side and showing an aggressive looking tribal design that rose along her neck and wrapped behind her left ear. “Later I got it straightened out.”
They were sitting on the couch for a mid-morning coffee.
Carmel lit a cigarette, and passed the packet to Emma. The younger woman shrugged, and took one. Sharing a cigarette with Carmel was becoming part of their social rituals, and she had to admit that she found the smoke soothing, and she actually liked the taste.
“And the arm?” she asked, sucking on the filter.
Carmel flexed her right arm, the colorful sleeve tattoo covering it from wrist to shoulder rippling. Carmel was muscular, and yet still very feminine. Emma envied her her abs.
“Ah, I did this a piece of a time,” she said.
She took a drag and finished her coffee. “And you? No ink?” she asked.
Emma shook her head. “Ed—”
“Ed wouldn’t approve,” Carmel sighed. She stood. “I better be going. What about risotto for lunch?”

#


In the following week, Emma went out twice with Ed.
His idea of a nice evening out, a drink somewhere noisy, a dinner in an expensive place that did very small servings, and then a drive back home. His home.
She spent the night there, on Friday.
Some music, a drink, then sex, in Ed’s big bed. He pressed on her and she took him in and made some noises.
Emma laid awake, afterwards, while Ed snored by her side. She stared up at the white ceiling, at the squares of light from the window, and thought about what she had just been through. She had not enjoyed it very much.
Had she ever?
And, she reflected for the first time, it had not been lovemaking. It had been sex. Mechanical, perfunctory.
She decided she would do things differently the next time.

#

And so, on the next Wednesday, while they were waiting for the dessert, she cleared her voice, and ran her fingertip over the rim of her wine glass.
“There’s something—” she started.
Ed looked at her. “What?”
There was a pressure, like a fist pressing between her breasts. Emma took a deep breath. “Something I didn’t tell you about my job. About losing my job.”
He frowned. “Something you didn’t tell me?”
The waitress came and placed the profitterole in front of Emma and the apple pie in front of Ed. Emma waited for her to be out of earshot.
“It’s about the reason why I was fired,” she said.
Her face was burning.
Ed arched one eyebrow, and took a spoonful of pie. “You mean about the thing with Ross? You denouncing him for harassment?”
Emma heard her heartbeats drumming in her ears. She stared at Ed, at his bemused smile.
“You knew?” she asked. Her voice found it hard to come out of her throat. It was like the fist had moved up, and was now pressing on her trachea.
“About Ross asking you for oral sex?” he chuckled.
Emma put down her spoon. “Who told you?”
He shrugged gently, and took another bite of pie. “Ross told me. We go to the same gym, you know—”
Emma saw black curtains at the periphery of her vision, like she was staring down a pipe. “You talked about it with him?” she hissed. Fury was slowly replacing humiliation. “And you did nothing?”
He laughed. “Ross was joking,” he said. “You know he’s like that.”
“He asked me for a blow job,” she spat. The people at the nearby table turned and stared. “I asked for a raise, and he asked me to suck his cock.”
“He was joking, and you denounced him,” Ed retorted.
“And he fired me.” Emma could barely believe how utterly furious she was. “And then talked about it with you.”
He just shook his head. “You should watch your language,” he said.
Everything was suddenly very focused, and crisp, and clear. Emma would have liked a cigarette, but otherwise, everything was perfectly fine with her.
“And you should get yourself some balls,” she replied, and she was surprised at how controlled was her voice. “Here,” she said, picking up her dessert, “start with these.”

 And she splattered the profitterole over his white shirt and his silk tie.
Then she stood and walked out of the restaurant, and hailed a cab. She cried all the way to her home, and then asked the cabby to wait, and went in. Carmel was stretched on the couch, enjoying a horror movie. She jumped up when she saw in what stare Emma was. But Emma just shook her head, and asked her if she could please pay for the cab.
By the time Carmel was back, Emma had disappeared in her room.