The Daily Life of Emma Preston *Complete*

The Lake House

When I woke up two days later, I was warm. I had left the window in the spare bedroom open to let in the breeze coming off the lake. So why was I so warm?

I tried to roll over and get out of bed, but I was met with a wall. A wall of flesh.

I scrabbled away from the person next to me, holding back a scream. 

My dreams over the last two days of a man getting into bed with me last night had been real! I shot off the other side of the bed, and quickly turned to look at who this person was. 

Their brown hair looked familiar, as well as the very toned back. 

It couldn't be. Could it?

But, Jerry doesn't know where Ms. Patty lives. He didn't know anything about her. So how is it possible that he was in bed with me? Here. Not just in my dreams. This was real.

I slowed my breathing, and tried to put my jumbled thoughts together. Obviously Jerry has found me. I studied his face. I never thought I would see him again. Well, alive at least. He looked worn out. Like he hadn't rested in days.

 I have pretty much kept to myself since the first night I was here. Ms. Patty understood, and kept her distance while still trying to keep an eye on me.

I ate, without tasting.

I listened, without hearing.

I looked, without seeing.

And sadly, I waited, without believing.

I had been barely holding on to anything. The only thing that kept me grounded was my baby. I ate, I slept, and then repeat.

But not anymore. I wasn't alone in this. Jerry has found us.

2 months later... 

I've always had this fear of curling irons. My hair is naturally straight, so it's flat. When I was little, I can remember my mom setting me in the bathroom, on a stool, for what felt like hours, curling my hair. It was only when we went to my grandparent's house. 

I'm not sure if it was because I was little, and she had no patience with me, or she loathed my grandmother with everything she had in her and never wanted to go there, that made getting my hair curled so traumatizing.

She would always burn the tip of my ears, somehow. Followed by yelling at me to keep my neck still and that wouldn't happen. "You have muscles in your neck for a reason Emily, use them." That's what she would always say, even though I would be afraid of damaging my neck by tightening my muscles for so long in my neck.

So why, in all that is holy, did I allow this? I'm not a girly girl. I don't do the whole ten pounds of make up, take hours to do ONE hair style that will last about two hours, and I certainly don't do dressing up.

I was happy with just a small, quiet, casual, courthouse wedding. But of course, Ms. Patty refused to let that happen.

Ms. Patty almost had to force me into planning this wedding. But, looking at myself in the mirror after the time she spent fixing me up, I realize it was all worth it.  Every argument I had with her over the 'meaning' of each decision. Apparently, everything has a meaning for something. Big or small.

Ms. Patty treated me like I was a daughter, and made sure I had the type of wedding she thought her daughter deserved.

My blond hair cascaded down my back in soft curls. Bobby pins with a small diamonds on them, made my hair sparkle. My hair was pulled back off my face, making my blue eyes sparkled with excitement. Light, natural color, eye shadows, mascara, and a little blush, made my eyes pop.