Page 19 of Except Emerson (Detroit ABCs #7)

When he wanted me to respond, though, he switched languages. “We need to talk about what you’re going to do.”

“What? What does that mean?” I asked. I used my spoon to scrape around the cup of chocolate to get the last dregs.

“You have been making progress—”

“What does that mean?” I repeated, my voice considerably sharper. I’d already realized that we weren’t talking about my language acquisition.

“When you moved in here, you were more or less dead.”

“Yes, I had nearly died in a car accident!” I exclaimed.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You were alive, but there was no life to you. I’ve never seen anyone so profoundly sad. Now, you seem to be improving. There’s room for more, of course, and I don’t want you to go backwards.”

“You’ve been monitoring my emotional state?”

Yes, apparently he had, and now he was very concerned about leaving and that no one would be there to step into his spy shoes. He told me, all in English, that he kept track of my grocery deliveries so that he would know I was eating and he kept track of my walks so that he knew I was getting out.

“And I gave you the cat for companionship.”

“She hates me,” I said bitingly, because this conversation truly pissed me off.

How dare he have surveilled me like this?

I was no one’s science fair project, to observe and then plot the data points!

But it didn’t take me very long to see that yes, he was an intrusive busybody, but it had also been a nice thing.

“This is why you came over so often to bring me food,” I said. He’d dropped off numerous containers, saying that he had made too much and couldn’t keep it all in the small refrigerator that my apartment also had.

Hernán nodded.

“And this is why you pretended that you wanted to teach me Spanish,” I continued. I had thought it was because he was lonely, but it was actually my utter lack of human contact that had bothered him.

“You absolutely should know Spanish,” he answered, and I knew what would follow. “Everyone should speak another language. It’s broadening! It helps us to understand others! It’s a wonderful thing.”

“I know,” I sighed. I’d heard those words many times before, mostly when I’d remarked that there was no way I was going to get it. “But you were doing those things because you were worried about me.”

He didn’t say no. “Maybe Levi could…” He trailed off, looking thoughtful.

“No,” I said. “No. I definitely don’t need you to recruit another case manager for me. As you just said, I’m doing much better.”

“You’re getting more groceries delivered. You’re going out for walks. You’re going out, in general.”

“And not just with Levi,” I put in. “I have a lunch date coming up. So I’m doing fine, and you shouldn’t worry about leaving me.”

He nodded slightly, but he didn’t appear any less concerned. “ Vale , ok. We don’t need to discuss it anymore, not right now. I also want talk to you about furniture.”

“I know that I need some.”

“Yes, especially since you’ll be having more friends around. I’m going to leave the majority of this behind me,” he said, glancing at his possessions. “I’ll only bring what will fit in my car.”

“Do you need my help selling it? You have nice things.” His stuff didn’t look as expensive as what was in Levi’s furnished apartment or in the huge homes I’d visited that belonged to Grant’s friends, but that didn’t make it bad.

“I’m better at the internet than you are,” he pointed out, which was true. “I’m going to give most of it to you, and you can decide what you want. You can sell it yourself, if you need the money. I’m concerned about that, too.”

“I’m doing ok. Do you really want to give it all away?”

“I’ll take the important pieces. My daughter’s baby book, our old wedding album.” He looked sad when he said that. “Most of the rest is just extra.”

“My mother couldn’t give stuff away, not anything,” I said, and then was very surprised at myself. Why was I talking about her? It must have been because Levi had been badgering me to share…he hadn’t been badgering, exactly.

“Why did she hold onto it?” Hernán asked. “Was it a psychological problem?”

“No, nothing that you could diagnose. I don’t think so,” I added, “but I’m no app therapist. Her office had so many books that it was hard to open the door and they collected a lot of dust.”

He asked me additional questions in both languages, but there wasn’t really anything more to say about my mother or her accumulations.

Instead, I asked him about driving alone all the way across the country, when he was nervous about driving across town to the library by himself, and where exactly he planned to live in Nevada without any furniture.

He’d gotten very serious as he’d talked about my problems and his concern for me, but he perked up when he discussed seeing different sights along the way and how his daughter had space for him in the house she’d just purchased.

But he did circle back to the previous topic, just as I was leaving. “I’ll expect you to text me, Emerson,” he said sternly. “I’ll be asking Levi how you’re doing.”

“Please don’t. He doesn’t need to hear that you didn’t think I was eating enough or that I wasn’t leaving that apartment. You’re not my keeper and neither is he. I don’t need one.”

I thought about it later, though, as I sat in my singular chair. I hadn’t really considered it, because I’d been thinking that we were neighbors and tutor/tutee, but I also did have a bond with Hernán. He wasn’t just someone who talked to me on the steps sometimes.

He was a friend, and I was going to miss him.