Free Now and Then by Brenda Rothert

time’s sake!”
    Emma rolled her eyes and stepped into the house. It was quiet inside, and she enjoyed the solitude as she loaded dishes into the dishwasher. Neighbors called their goodbyes as they left, and her mother came in to help with the cleanup.
    “I can alwa ys count on you, Emma,” her mom said with an affectionate look.
    T he remaining partygoers made their way into the kitchen, and Emma heard Cole talking to his father about work. Hiding that they’d been seeing each other was harder than she’d expected it to be. She wanted to be standing next to him, rather than scrubbing baked-on macaroni casserole out of a metal pan.
    “I need a ride into the city,” Layla announced. “Is anyone going that way?”
    “Why didn’t you drive?” Emma asked, her hands dripping as she turned around.
    “I was out with Lane and she just dropped me off here,” Layla said. Emma looked at her skeptically. Layla never rode with anyone. She always had to be in control and insisted on driving herself everywhere.
    “I’ll take you home,” their father offered.
    “But I need your help cleaning up,” their mother said quickly. “Cole, are you going into the city?”
    “Yeah, I am,” he said.
    “Great! You’ll give Layla a lift, won’t you?”
    “Sure. Emma, can I give you a ride, too?”
    “She doesn’t live in the city,” Layla said.
    “I don’t mind.” Cole glanced at Emma with a small smile.
    “I’d like to spend some more time with Emma,” her mother said. “We haven’t seen much of her lately. Her Dad will take her home later.”
    Emma turned back to the sink, not surprised that she would be scrubbing dishes while Layla left the party with Cole. She put the metal dish she’d rinsed into the drying rack with more force than necessary.
    “Careful, Emma,” her mother admonished. “Some of those dishes are older than you are.”
    “Bye, everyone!” Layla called. “Call me later, Em!”
    Emma refused to turn around until they were gone, and she exhaled loudly when the kitchen had emptied. She put more energy into cleaning than she needed to, finding it was an outlet for her frustration.
    Her phone beeped from inside her purse, and she pulled it out, her pulse racing as she read the message from her sister.
    Cole’s taking me out for drinks! Then I’m taking him home. Call you in the morning. xoxo
    Emma wished for the strength to crush the phone with her hand. She didn’t want to be a shallow, jealous person, but the envy seemed to be coursing through her veins. Nothing but several hours with paints and canvas would help.
    “Why don’t you stay and play car ds with us?” her mother asked when they finished cleaning.
    “I need to get home, actually.”
    “Cole Marlowe’s gotten even better looking with time, hasn’t he? I’d love it if he and Layla got together.”
    “Dad, can you take me home?” Emma called loudly.
    “Is everything okay?” her mother asked.
    “It’s fine, Mom. I’m just tired.”
    Emma glanced at the strapless bright purple dress Layla had left draped over the back of a kitchen chair. Her older sister had gone to prom three times, only missing it her freshman year. Emma had only been asked once, by a boy who said no one else would go with him, actually said it as he asked her , and she’d declined.
    “Ready when you are,” her father said. His familiar pressed khaki shorts, golf-ball advertising hat and white tennis shoes were a comfort.
    “Let’s go,” she said, her shoulders dropping.
     
     
    Then -- 9 years earlier
    Emma’s eyes lit up as she saw her sister descending the stairs in her br ight purple dress. Though she’d already seen her in it upstairs, there was something special about her walking down the open staircase in it.
    Her hair was curled and piled on her head, with some stray ringlets near her face. She seemed to glow, and though Layla was 17 and she was 15, Emma knew she wouldn’t have her sister’s aura of confidence and beauty when she