Emmy And Me

As we’d hoped, nobody gave me a second look walking through the crowds streaming into the Minute Maid Park baseball field. It was nice, this feeling of anonymity. I was just another fan, and that was just what I’d wanted.

Jenna waited while Andy and I got in line for frozen margaritas. It was a very warm night and the ballpark’s retractable roof was open for the show, so a little bit of alcoholic cooling was welcome.

“You know,” Jenna said when Andy handed her what was basically a boozy snow cone. “I never really, like, saw it when people said you two looked like you were related…”

“It’s the new hair color,” I said, shaking my head to make my short hair swing.

“No, it’s not that, but that really does make it more obvious,” Jenna said. “No- it was just that the two of you, standing there in line together… You just looked, um, familiar, I guess. Like you grew up together. You’re just so comfortable with each other, you know?” Jenna said. “Knowing how you were as kids, it makes sense. Right now? With your hair like that? You two could tell anybody you’re brother and sister and they’d believe you.”

Smiling at the thought, I wrapped an arm around Andy’s shoulders. “C’mon, baby bro. Let’s go watch a concert.”

“Hey!” he protested, but didn’t shrug my arm off. “How come I’m the baby? I’m like, two inches taller and fifty pounds heavier!”

“You just are,” Jenna said, as if it was incontrovertible.

“By a month! Not even a month- just, um, twenty-four days!” Andy objected as we walked, my arm still draped across his shoulders, Jenna holding his other hand.

“You guys are practically twins, then,” Jenna finally admitted. “But Lee’s still older.”

“Yeah, but only by three weeks!” Andy said, still grumbling about being the kid sibling.

“By more than three weeks,” I said archly.

The opening act was an odd sort of mix. Jenna said they sounded like a Rage Against The Machine and White Stripes mashup, and I had to agree that the description was pretty accurate. They were high energy, and the singer said a few times that they were excited to play for such a large crowd. I enjoyed their set, pleased that we’d actually watched the opening act for once.

“Don’t most bands pick one opening band for a whole tour?” Andy asked once they’d finished their set. “Why did Emmy and the guys choose to have a different band open for them every night?”

“I have no idea,” I confessed. “I’m really not involved in any of that kind of discussion with the band. That’s Em’s thing, you know?”

“Smooth Kitty does that while you work on world acquisition?” Jenna asked.

“Exactly,” I said, thinking about another frozen margie. “We all have our strengths. But right now I think I’m going to do a little beverage acquisition,” I said, standing up.

“I’ll go with,” Jenna said. Turning to Andy, she instructed him to hold our seats, but that wasn’t really a concern since nobody could get into the VIP section without a pass anyway.

Standing in line, Jenna asked, “How’s Em doing? Last night she seemed… Like she was trying hard to try to seem O.K.”

"It’s been really hard,” I replied. “We had a big talk the other night and she realized that she was being- and these are her words, not mine- she was being selfish and feeling like losing Angela was all about her misery and her loss. Em’s, I mean. I think realizing that Angela wouldn’t want her to be miserable, and also at the same time realizing that she wasn’t alone in feeling the loss, you know? I think those… realizations might have been a turning point for her. I think that last night, dinner with you and Andy-”

“And with four scary guys in suits,” Jenna interjected.

“Yeah, those guys are going to be fixtures for a while,” I agreed. “But yeah, dinner last night- I think that was Em trying to find her way out of the bad place she’s been in emotionally.”

“It helped me, too,” Jenna confessed.

“When Emmy and I were talking a couple of nights ago I pointed out that she wasn’t the only one suffering. I told her that you lost your best friend, after all.”

“I still can’t believe how the whole thing even happened,” Jenna said sadly.

We’d arrived at the front of the line by this time, so we paused our conversation, then really couldn’t talk on our way back to the seats.

“That took a while,” Andy said, gratefully accepting his tequila slushy.

“The line was twice as long as it was earlier,” Jenna explained.

Emmy remained seated for the entire Downfall show, but this time on a simple stool, which allowed her a bit more movement. She went back to a traditional microphone on a stand, too. I was happy to see the tangible signs of her healing, but at the same time I worried that she was maybe pushing herself too hard. Still, she looked nice and steady on her feet when she stood and walked to the front of the stage for the final bow, so I had to believe she was doing alright.

Emmy opted to skip the afterparty held at some nightclub, coming back to the hotel not long after we did.

“How are you feeling?” I asked when I helped her into the tall-sided hatbox tub in the suite.

“I am feeling lonely,” Emmy said. “I think you should join me in here.”

“Are you sure, baby?” I asked. “I don’t want to rush things, if you’re still hurting.”

“Be gentle, then. No Beast Mode,” she said.

Encouraged, I ditched my clothes and slipped in behind her in the scorching hot water.

“I had missed this more than I realized,” Emmy sighed, leaning back against me and pulling my arms around herself. “Thank you, Leah.”

“Tell me if I do anything that hurts,” I said, kissing the top of her head.

“This does not hurt at all,” she replied. “This is perfect. Can we stay like this all night?”

“Well, until the water gets cold, sure,” I said. “But that’s where I draw the line.”

“You are so cruel,” Emmy said, but I could hear the smile in her voice. She relaxed against me for a while, saying nothing, just enjoying being held.

“Leah, I want to say some things. Please listen and do not say anything until I am done. Do you promise?” she said after a few minutes of silence.

“You can tell me anything,” I told her, kissing the top of her head again.

“I want to tell you some things that I am perhaps a little bit ashamed to admit,” Emmy said after a long moment of gathering her thoughts. I kissed her hair again to let her know that I was paying attention and not speaking, as she’d requested.

“When the attack happened, I did not really understand what was happening. I knew that we were being attacked, but I had no idea of what the bigger picture looked like. I am ashamed to say that I felt that you were responsible for allowing Angela to be killed. Yes, I felt I was the one to blame for allowing the attackers the opportunity to get close and ambush us, but… I saw Jeremy defending me and facing against a crowd of enemies, but when he went down and that man came at me, I felt that you had abandoned me in that moment. Even worse, you had not defended Angela as you should have.”

It was all I could do to keep quiet and let her talk, but in the end all I did was give her a little squeeze to let her know I was listening.

“But three days ago I finally searched for and found the videos everyone has been talking about. I had not wanted to watch them, but I felt I should know, so I did. I even found the security camera footage that showed the whole thing from up above. What became clear to me, Leah, is that you did more than anyone could possibly have asked for. I finally saw how Angela was… How Angela was attacked from behind, and I saw that you tried to get to her in time but could not.”

Emmy took in a long, shuddering breath, thinking back to what she had seen.

“Leah, I also saw that you are truly a monster. I mean that as a very high compliment,” she added quickly. “You swept through those men- and woman- like an unstoppable wave. I do not think I will ever be able to erase the memory of you lifting that man above your head and slamming him down on the pavement, crushing in his skull and breaking his neck. I have seen you fight before, in Chicago, but this was… It was truly terrifying.”

Emmy took another long moment to think about what she wanted to say. Again, I kept quiet, kissing her head again to let her know I was still giving her space to speak.

“You have become this for me, I know,” Emmy said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I could never have asked this of you. I never would have brought you into this life if I had known this would be required of you.”

“Em-” I started to object, but she turned and put a finger on my lips to stop me.

“Leah,” she said, looking me in the eyes. “You have told me that you took this role on of your own volition, and I am certain that you feel that way, but you would never have had to do what you have done if it were not for me, pulling you into my world. If not for me, you would be in veterinary school or something like that right now, working for your future with Stephanie, or if not her, with some other woman who would love you for your gentle spirit and strength.” Keeping her finger on my lips, she said, “That would be my loss. You have been the best thing that could ever possibly happen to me, but I fear that I have not been the best for you.”

With that, she dropped her finger, allowing me to speak.

I didn’t, though. All I did was lean in and give her a kiss, long and tender. When we finally parted, I took her hand in mine.

“Emmy De Lascaux, I took on these duties for you, it’s true. Don’t ever think that I went in blind, though. I was fully aware of what was happening every step of the way. You weren’t the one that made me this way- I was. Sure, you’re right that I wouldn’t have become this ‘monster’, as you said, without slipping into your world. But I chose to do what I could for you, and this is where it’s lead me. Yes, my life would have been very different if we’d never met. Maybe I would be a veterinary student married to Stephanie, but probably not. There’s no way to know. What I do know is that I’m here right now, and you’re here, too, and this is the life we have.”

I leaned forward and kissed her again, holding my lips against hers for a very long time. “This life isn’t perfect- far from it. I’ll never forgive myself for losing sight of the field of combat and allowing that woman to sneak up on Angela. I lost myself in the fight, and that’s always going to be on me. But I can’t say that I would have made any of the choices that led us here any differently if I had to make them all over again. I may be a monster, but I’ve chosen to become this monster because I love you.”

“That is the most beautiful and the most terrible thing I have ever heard,” Emmy said, her face showing mixed emotions.

Jenna and Andy left for Los Angeles after breakfast. He had only a couple of weeks before the preseason started and couldn’t take any more days away from training.

Emmy wanted to go back to the room for a nap after they left, so I did some searching online for a different fight gym than the one we’d worked out at the day before.

After making a few calls I made my way to a boxing gym on the east edge of downtown. The place was nothing to look at- just a big metal pre-fab shed structure with a row of garage doors on one side, all wide open for airflow since the place obviously had no air conditioning.

When I wandered in carrying my gym bag, a guy in shorts and a T shirt printed with “Houston Boxing Club” on it intercepted me. He looked me up and down and said, “We don’t do Crossfit or Pilates here, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“Nah,” I said. “I’m in town for just a couple of days and thought that maybe I could find a place I could get a good workout in, that’s all.”

“We do have single-day memberships,” he said, dubious. “But this here is a boxing gym. If you aren’t a fighter, this is probably not the right place for you.”

“I’m not a boxer, per se,” I said. “I’m more of a mixed martial arts kind of girl, but to be fair, I am more of a striker than anything.”

“Well, alright,” he said, still looking skeptical. “Let’s get the paperwork filled out. It’s twenty bucks a day. We’ve got a couple of coaches, but that’s extra. You can join one of the classes if you want…”

“I’m fine on my own,” I said. “But honestly, maybe a coaching session with a boxing specialist would be interesting.”

“Interesting?” the guy questioned.

“I’ve never worked with any boxing-specific coaches,” I said, filling out the forms he handed me on a clipboard. “Maybe I could learn something?”

The guy just grunted a “Hmm,” as he looked over the forms and checked the info against my ID.

“I think Kenny’s schedule is open. Lemme see if he’s willing to work with you. It’s fifty an hour,” the gym manager said.

“Ask him if he’s got three hours,” I said as the guy turned to find Kenny.

“Three hours?” he asked, turning back to look at me in surprise.

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t stay any longer than that,” I told him.

“Yeah, O.K., sure,” he said. “Locker room’s over there,” he said as he turned away again, pointing off to one side of the large, open space.

I was changed and wrapped with my sparring gloves in my hand in just a few minutes. I looked around and saw the manager guy talking to a heavyset guy who looked to be in his forties. He had the build of an ex-fighter. He’d probably fought in the light heavyweight class when he was younger, but he’d put on a few pounds since then.

“Tommy tells me you want three hours of training?” Kenny asked when I joined the two of them.

“If you’ve got the time,” I said.

He looked down at my gloves disdainfully. “Those ain’t gonna work,” he said.

“Let’s give it a shot,” I said, curling my fingers a few times. “These are what I’m used to.”

Shaking his head, Kenny said, “Awright. It’s just a few minutes to ten- close enough for gummint work. Let’s get started. How d’ya usually warm up?”

It didn’t take long before Kenny started treating me like a real fighter, even complimenting me on my stance and footwork. He really didn’t like my guard position, though.

“How many times ya gonna get punched in the face before you learn to keep your hands up?” he demanded.

“Yeah, well, the thing is, I’m used to people kicking me, so I’ve got to be ready for that as much as any punch in the face,” I countered.

“Fucking kickboxing bullshit,” he said. “Straight up old-school boxing is the true sweet science. That other shit? That UFC shit? It’s for people who don’t know how ta throw a punch, rassling around on the ground like damned idiots.”

“I like to think I can throw a punch,” I said, nailing a particularly sharp jab to one of his mitts.

“You’re fast, that’s for damned sure,” Kenny admitted. “But ya fall into the same bad habit I see all these MMA assholes do. Ya don’t put your weight into your punches. It’s all arms and shoulders, but no hips and legs.”

“Really?” I asked, stopping to look at him.

“Yeah,” Kenny said. “It’s why a real boxer will always win when a kickboxer steps into the ring. Like this McGregor asshole, thinking he can take Mayweather. McGregor might be a badass in the UFC world, but take away his kicks and throws and all that bullshit and all you’ll see is a mediocre boxer at best. MMA guys are always fighting on their back foot, and that’s complete shit for putting power into somebody’s face.”

“That makes sense,” I had to admit. “So I guess we have two more hours for you to show me the error of my ways.”

Kenny’s attitude shifted once he saw that I was serious about learning what he had to teach me. It didn’t take me long to feel what he’d been talking about, and realize that he was absolutely right. Bringing my weight to the forward foot would obviously limit my kicks severely, but it did allow me to push off the back foot and throw my whole body behind my punches.

“There might be hope for ya yet,” Kenny begrudgingly admitted as we stopped for the day. “Ya got speed for days- now ya just gotta put your whole body into your punches, and you’ll be a killer.”

“Thanks for the coaching, Kenny,” I said. “You have time tomorrow? Maybe a bit earlier?”

“Yeah, it is gettin’ hot,” Kenny said.

“Well, no, not because of the heat- I don’t mind that much at all,” I said. “I’ve got a flight to catch in the afternoon.”

“The club opens at five- Is that early enough for ya?”

“How long can you give me?”

“Three hours ain’t enough?” he asked.

“If that’s all the time you can spare, it’ll have to do,” I shrugged.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy,” he said, shaking his head.

To call the shower in the women’s locker room ‘questionable’ would be a compliment, but at least the water pressure was good and in a few minutes I was back at the manager’s desk, paying for Kenny’s time. When I told Tommy that Kenny and I had agreed on another session first thing in the morning, he just shook his head.

“When you said you wanted three hours, I figured an hour, hour and a half, tops, and you’d be done, but every time I looked over you were goin’ like a house on fire,” he said.

“I like to keep in shape,” I replied.