Emma's Secret Page 11

  “Here.” She opened her eyes to see Peter squatting down in front of her, holding a glass of water with a straw. Megan smiled at him, thankful for his foresight. With her hands heavy at her sides, she let Peter guide the straw to her lips, and she sucked at the water.

  “Do you need me to carry you up to the shower?” His eyes twinkled. “I could always wash your back.”

  Megan rolled her head back and didn’t respond. She wasn’t in the mood to say yes, but she was too tired to say no. Instead, she grunted as he lifted her in his arms and carried her up the stairs. She felt the strain of his muscles against her back as they flexed holding her.

  He sat her on the bed, where she flopped down. Minutes later, the sound of the shower filled their bathroom. She should move, make it look like she was putting an effort into undressing, but her body was drained.

  Peter grabbed the waist of her shorts. “I wish you’d listened to me when I told you not to go out this morning,” Peter admonished her. He peeled the shorts off her body.

  “I hate the treadmill.”

  The bed dipped as Peter knelt beside her. His arm snaked beneath her, and he lifted her up. She raised her arms as he pulled her shirt up over her head.

  “What did you do? Jump in the lake?” Peter chuckled at her as he worked her sports bra over her chest before throwing it across the room to their clothes hamper.

  “I thought it would help cool me down.” She opened her eyes and stared at her husband’s naked and chiseled chest. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his body, unlike the pudginess that covered her midsection.

  “Wasn’t the Sunset Cafe open to at least fill your water bottle?”

  Megan shook her head. “It was too early.”

  Peter stepped off the bed and reached for her hands. He pulled her up and into his arms. “It’s going to be like this all week. Use the treadmill next time, okay?”

  Megan rested her head against his chest and nodded. She’d probably skip her runs for the next few days. Maybe she’d take the kids to the beach and just relax. She’d only been down to the beach once this summer, and it had turned out to be a mistake. Despite finding a quiet spot in the sand where they could build a sand castle, they’d quickly been swarmed by well-wishers wanting to welcome Emma home, and what should have been a calm afternoon turned into an overwhelming experience. Yesterday, Alexis had asked while they were making cookies if they could go back to the beach, and Megan said she’d think about it.

  Maybe she’d ask Laurie to join them to help keep an eye on the girls. On a day like today, the beach would be swarming with people. The lake breeze was refreshing in the humidity.

  “Do you think Emma is ready to try the beach again?” she muttered against Peter’s chest.

  He gently pushed her away and stared down at her. She tried to read the emotions in his gaze, but he quickly shut his eyes before leaning forward and placing a kiss on her forehead.

  “I think it wouldn’t hurt to try. And you know Hannah and Alexis would love it.”

  After their shower, Megan sat down on the bed and towel-dried her hair. She didn’t catch Peter’s words.

  “What did you say?” She lowered the towel into her lap and pushed her hair off her face.

  “I said Emma has a surprise for you downstairs.”

  Megan nodded. It was probably another picture. She was going to need to buy a new scrapbook soon, the way Emma was drawing her pictures. She picked up the towel again and squeezed the water from the ends of her hair.

  “We had a good talk the other night,” he said.

  She stopped and looked over at him. Peter had his towel wrapped around his waist as he stood in front of his closet looking for a shirt to wear.

  “And?”

  Peter shrugged. “That’s quite the little girl we have. I always wondered what type of child she would grow up to be, but I’m beginning to realize there is a layer of stubbornness beneath the layer of sweetness.”

  Megan smiled. He was only now realizing that?

  “I was able to make a deal with her, but only after some careful negotiating.”

  She nodded. “So you used your power of persuasion against your own daughter?” She wanted to laugh, but the look on his face told her he was serious.

  “She’s going to start wearing the clothes you bought her.”

  Megan’s grip on her hair tightened. “Seriously?” If she actually started to wear different clothes, that meant she was starting to accept the changes in her life.

  Peter nodded. “Just on Sundays, though. At least, that was the agreement. I figured if we started with one day a week, then it might progress into more. But she put on that skirt and tank top you bought her last week.”

  Megan’s eyebrow raised. “I’m shocked.” She’d seen the pink-and-yellow polka-dot skirt and a sunflower-yellow shirt in the local children’s store downtown and couldn’t resist. It screamed Emma.

  Peter sat down beside her on the bed. “It’s a good thing, right?” He stared down at his clenched hands in his lap. Megan reached over and laid her hand over his.

  “Yes, it’s a very good thing. This was one of the breakthroughs the counselor said might occur.” She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Might. Kathy had warned her it would be a slow process and not to expect major changes overnight.

  Emma’s sleeping through the night had been the first step, and that had taken a few weeks. Megan and Peter took turns trying to soothe Emma during those long nights. Her wanting to venture outside their home to play would be another. That one hadn’t happened yet, but Megan thought it was due to her own hesitation in taking Emma out in public.

  Emma’s willingness to wear clothes other than what she’d brought home with her was a huge step forward. Megan had feared that she’d have to outgrow the old clothes first for that to happen. Kathy suggested that Megan use the clothes Emma did outgrow and make them into a quilt or miniature clothing for her dolls. Megan did not like that suggestion. She couldn’t wait to create a bonfire out in the backyard and personally toss each dress into the flames.

  As Megan walked down the stairs, she reminded herself to act casual when she noticed Emma’s outfit. She wanted to show her happiness without making it too obvious. There were days Emma seemed as skittish as a newborn colt, and it was all Megan could do to not say or do anything that might force her back into her quiet shell.

  Her hand gripped the handrail as she stood on the bottom step. Today was a new day. One full of new beginnings. New adventures. Did Dorothy and Jack take her to the beach while she lived with them?

  “Mom, can I have the last waffle?” Hannah stood in the kitchen doorway wearing pink track shorts and a black tank top.

  Megan placed her arm around Hannah’s shoulder and gave her a slight squeeze. “Morning, sunshine,” she laid a gentle kiss on the top of Hannah’s head. “You’re kidding me, right? I just bought those yesterday. There’s only one left?” She knew the waffles were a favorite with the girls, but she didn’t expect them to disappear so soon.

  “So who ate all the waffles?” Megan glanced around the kitchen. Peter stood at the counter pouring a cup of coffee. Alexis sat at the table scarfing the last bite of waffle, while Emma’s head hung low as her hand rested on top of Daisy’s head.

  “Let me guess: Daisy had breakfast too.” Megan crossed her arms and frowned. “Emma, honey, we talked about this. It’s not healthy for Daisy to eat people food. Remember?”

  As Emma slowly nodded her head, still not looking up, Megan glanced over at the empty dog bowls.

  “Daisy has no food or water, honey.” Megan lowered her voice as she leaned over the table. It was hard to keep the smile both out of her voice and off her face as Emma slid off her chair and headed over to the cupboard where the dog food was kept.

  While Emma filled Daisy’s bowls, Megan reached for an envelope she kept tacked to the bulletin board by the phone. When Emma was finished, Megan held out the envelope and let her youngest daughter go through and pic
k out a sticker. Megan winked at her when she pulled out a bright-yellow daisy and placed it on the chore chart they’d made up.

  Integrating Emma into their family routine also meant allowing her to take ownership of certain chores. Feeding Daisy was one of them. For every chore completed, the girls would place a sticker on top of that specific chore, and if they were all covered by the end of the week, they received a special reward. Normally, it was ice cream or a small item the girls had requested.

  “Coffee?” Peter held out a mug. Megan reached for it and took a sip. Peter made the best coffee. Years ago, they’d both decided Peter’s strong brew was preferable, especially since Megan always seemed to make a weak pot.

  “Hey, Mom?” Alexis raised her head from the plate she was licking clean. Smears of maple syrup covered her mouth and the tip of her nose. “Do you think we could go over to Laurie’s pool today? It’s gonna be a scorcher.” Alexis pointed to the small kitchen television that sat on a shelf above the built-in desk.

  “Scorcher, huh?” Megan winked at Peter before taking another sip. At Alexis’s nod, Megan smiled. “Actually, I thought maybe we could have a picnic lunch down by the beach today.”

  A wide smile crossed Alexis’s face before she launched herself at Megan and threw her arms around her. Megan held up her coffee just in time and laughed.

  “Really?” A look of disbelief covered Hannah’s face.

  Megan nodded. “Really. Your dad might even join us for lunch,” she said.

  “Awesome!” Alexis untangled herself from Megan and ran over to Peter, who was waiting. He gripped her in a bear hug and lifted her off the ground.

  Megan bent down and stared into Emma’s eyes. They were as round as saucers. “Do you like the beach?”

  Emma nodded her head, the little curls bouncing at the movement.

  “Do you want to go today? We could build a sand castle together.”

  Emma continued to nod. A tiny tear ran down her cheek, and Megan wiped it away.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Her heart ached. The only time Emma cried was when she was thinking of Dorothy and Jack.

  “Papa said he was going to take me to the beach this summer,” Emma whispered.

  “Well.” Peter squatted down beside them and reached for both Megan’s hand and Emma’s. “You can always draw him a picture. We’ll make sure he gets it, right?”

  Megan dug her fingernails into Peter’s hand at the suggestion. She hoped he caught the daggers in her eyes as she glared at him. He shook his head at her in reply.

  Emma’s eyes grew wide and a tiny smile teased the edges of her lips. “Today?” Emma’s fingers splayed across Peter’s cheeks as she stared into his eyes. When he shook his head, she burrowed her face into his chest. Peter held Emma as he stood up and patted her back.

  Conflicting emotions raged through Megan. Part of her loved to see Emma in Peter’s arms like this, going to him for comfort. That was how it should be between father and daughter. But the other part of her wanted to scream at Peter for knowingly giving Emma false hope.

  Megan realized that wanting to keep Jack out of Emma’s life was wrong. She knew that a gradual withdrawal would have been more beneficial to Emma than the sudden split that she had insisted on, but she also knew that until she let go of her anger toward the man and woman who took Emma, she’d never be okay with allowing Jack to be a part of Emma’s life. Never.

  Megan jumped when Peter’s hand touched her arm. He’d set Emma on the ground, and she was looking through the papers piled up on the counter.

  “I can’t find the picture I drew for Papa,” she said.

  Megan tried to remember what picture Emma was talking about. There’d been so many.

  “It has to be around here somewhere.” Megan placed her coffee down on the counter and began to go through the stack of papers. There were bills she needed to pay, letters she needed to read, and an assortment of to-do lists, but no drawing from Emma.

  “We can look for it after breakfast, okay, honey? We’ll find it.” But then what? she asked herself.

  Emma shook her head. “No, I need it.”

  “It’s okay, honey,” Peter said. “We can do it tomorrow, okay?”

  Megan jerked her gaze toward Peter. “Do what tomorrow?”

  Peter shrugged, his gaze shifting around the room. “Mail it.”

  Megan set papers down and stared at her youngest daughter. “I told you I’d mail it, honey. Your daddy doesn’t need to worry about it.” She hoped she sounded sincere.

  From the skeptical look on Emma’s face, it didn’t come across that way. “It’s been a long time since Papa wrote me, Mommy. I don’t think you know the address right. But Daddy knows how to get it to him.”

  Behind her, Alexis snorted at the comment, while Megan took a step back at the admonition in Emma’s voice. Not once had Emma ever accused her of anything, not since she’d come home. Her other daughters, yes. Alexis especially. She constantly accused her of not loving her and Hannah the same as Emma, of not giving them enough time, of not paying enough attention. But Emma had never shown her disappointment like this. It hurt. Really hurt. Even if it was true.

  “I’ll take care of it, I said.” There was an edge to Peter’s voice she hadn’t caught before.

  Megan opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. It hurt her that Emma distrusted her so much—or was she reading too much into it? The thought left a sour taste in her mouth.

  “Is this the one?” Hannah walked into the kitchen with a sheet of paper.

  Emma ran over to where Hannah stood and studied the picture. When her chin bobbed up and down, Megan let out the air stuck inside her lungs.

  “Where did you find it?” She thought for sure she’d left it on the counter yesterday.

  Hannah shrugged. “It was underneath the table in the hallway.”

  “Totally weird,” Alexis piped up.

  Megan shrugged. “I must have put it on the table so that I’d remember to mail it.” She felt Peter’s presence behind her.

  “At least we found it. Why don’t you go put it in my briefcase,” Peter said. When Megan tilted her head to look at him, she caught the wink he gave Emma.

  As Emma left the room, Peter leaned his face toward hers and whispered into her ear, “You never meant to mail that, did you?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Jack coasted his old Ford into the parking lot and glanced around. It was still early. Late enough to miss the morning rush of those heading in to work, but early enough to miss the mothers getting out of the house with their noisy kids in tow. Jack tried to stay as far away from small kids as he could. He didn’t need any reminders of Emmie. Of her laughter and giggles.

  A handful of vehicles littered the parking area, including the boys’ trucks. Jack grunted. They’d actually beat him there today. He was usually the first one to arrive. He hoped they’d kept his seat open. He preferred the corner seat so that he could look out across the tables and at the front door, as well as see who drove into the drive-thru area. He knew it was pointless to hope, but maybe, just maybe, he’d see Emmie.

  “Wondered when you’d get here; the boys are getting impatient,” the waitress at the counter said as Jack entered the store. The tiny bells above the door jingled as it closed behind him.

  “Not my fault if they’re early.” Jack watched her pour him a cup of black coffee.

  Jack looked at the far booth in the corner. Both the boys, Doug and Kenny, were slouched over their coffees as they stared at him. His best friends. Before Dottie had passed away, Jack used to make a trip into town once a week just to have coffee with them. Now it was daily.

  “I might as well get a honey dip too. Can’t let these boys eat alone.”

  Jack shuffled his way toward the table. “Where’ve you been? You’re late. Dougie and I have been sitting here like two old cows chewin’ cud,” said Kenny as Jack set his coffee and plate down on the table. They’d saved his chair for him.

&nb
sp; “Slept in.” Jack grunted. He narrowed his eyes, daring them to say something. He took a sip of his coffee and peered over the rim. Doug looked like Jack felt. With his salt-and-pepper hair all over the place, he looked old.

  “You never sleep in.”

  Jack shook his head. Leave it to Doug to not leave things alone. “I did today.”

  “Why?” Doug leaned back in his chair and tilted his head down to look over the top of his glasses at Jack.

  Jack shrugged and took another sip of his coffee. “Does it matter?” He was getting annoyed. A vehicle drove by, but there was only a single passenger. A man.

  “Of course it matters.” Kenny piped up with a scowl on his face.

  Jack shook his head and scowled before glaring at Doug. He wasn’t an invalid or a child. And he wasn’t moving. Not now, not ever. He was going to die in that house. It was a promise he’d made to himself back when he was a prisoner of war.

  He took a bite of his honey dip but kept quiet as the waitress came over with a full pot of coffee.

  “You boys look like you need another cup. Things are a little quiet this morning, and I made too many pots.” She refilled Kenny’s cup and topped off Doug’s and Jack’s; then she winked at them before walking away.

  Jack jerked his head after her and smiled at Kenny. “I think she has a crush on you.”

  Kenny’s face turned red before he hunched his shoulders. “She’s too young.”

  Doug laughed before slapping Kenny in the shoulder. “Everyone is too young compared to you. Maybe she’s looking for a sugar daddy.”

  Kenny scowled, deepening the lines on his face. “She’d better look elsewhere then.”

  The three sat in silence while they all nursed their coffees. It was Jack who broke the silence.

  “You aimin’ to die at my place?” He cleared his throat while Kenny’s eyes widened moments before he cast his gaze downward.

  “I’m tired, Jack. The quiet at your place is what I need.” He shrugged. “And if I die in my sleep while sitting out on your front porch staring at the flowers you planted, then so be it. It’s better than dying in my bed with a nurse hovering over me.” His voice lowered to a mere whisper, but Jack heard every word. And he understood.