A Look Back: Rennillia Series - Prequel by M. Sembera

fine.”
    Laughing a little, I imparted, “If she stays with you for more than a few weeks, I’ll call her by her name. Until then, she’s the new one.”
    With a slight laugh in return, he questioned, “Why did you stay home from school?” I shrugged as he explained, “Your father said you were sick.”
    Stating, “Okay,” I slipped my shoes off and folded my legs in front of myself on the bed.
    Emerson’s eyes were sympathetic as he offered, “You can tell me.”
    His line of questioning made me uneasy as I snapped, “Tell you what?”
    “If something’s wrong,” he replied.
    Shaking my head at him, I fussed, “What would be wrong?”
    With a light shrug, Emerson confessed, “I could tell you what I think, but I don’t want you to be upset with me.”
    Without being able to help myself, I started to cry.
    Everything that had happened seemed to weigh heavily on me. Hert, my father, Hert's father and all I could do was cry. Emerson wrapped his arms around me tight at first. Since I was still sore from not knowing my place my whole body tensed up. Loosening his hold, Emerson’s arms gently draped over me. Lightly patting the side of my head, he just sat there letting me curl up onto him. As I let every held back tear loose, I thought it wasn’t Emerson who needed me. I needed him.

Chapter 8
    Three months had passed since Mr. Herterand’s funeral and although things seemed to go back to normal, they weren’t. My little stunt at the funeral, in my father’s words, cost me the use of my car. It didn’t really matter though, Emerson just picked me up for school instead. Hert drove himself and met us in the parking lot every morning. Aside from that, Hert stopped by Emerson’s occasionally but never stayed very long. I wondered if maybe Carmella was the reason and that would explain why he didn’t want me coming by anymore but seeing as he never took her out in public, that more than likely wasn’t it. Maybe his father’s death affected him more than anyone realized. Emerson was on new girl number three for the year and she was something else. In fact, Mrs. Roberts, who was always composed and proper, had a hard time tolerating her. I had even heard her use the words low class in reference to Miss Number Three, which was odd because her family was very well to-do. Not understanding what Emerson saw in her, I decided she put out and that would account for the goofy way he mooned over her. Other than that, she didn’t interfere with my time with Em, so I didn’t put much thought into her.
    In the car on the way home from school, I sat on the passenger side pouting. Emerson was failing miserably at making me feel better.
    “They are just looking,” he insisted.
    Shaking my head, I argued, “Your mother didn’t make it sound like they were just looking.”
    With a heavy sigh, he said, “Her family is from there and they have been talking about purchasing an Estate there for years.”
    “Spain, Emerson! They are looking for a house in Spain!” I fussed before reminding, “That’s a whole other country.”
    Giving me a slight reality check, Emerson shared, “I know. I’ve been there before.”
    Thinking, 'oh that’s right', for a minute there I forgot who I was talking too. We pulled up in front of my house and as I waited for him to open my door, I had to admit what my real problem was. As soon as Emerson opened my door I slid my arms under his and hugged him tight.
    Frowning, I said, “I just don’t want you to move away.”
    “They are just looking,” he assured, hugging me back.
    Nodding into his chest, I pulled away and walked to my front door. Once inside, I headed straight for my room. Barely glancing toward the kitchen, I saw my father sitting at the table. My mother was nowhere to be seen so I assumed I was in charge of dinner. I threw my books and purse on my bed before heading back to make dinner.
    My father sat in his usual spot but as I got closer, I noticed a bottle of liquor and