The Finding Emma Collection (Books 1-5) Page 3

  Megan stepped into Emma’s room and was barraged by the emotions she’d tried so hard to keep at bay. It was here, in her baby’s room, that the walls surrounding Megan’s heart crumpled. To most people, Megan was a pillar of strength. A fighter. Only Peter knew the truth. Here, in Emma’s room, Megan was only a mother with a broken heart.

  What would she look like today?

  Megan crossed the room to Emma’s single bed and stroked the picture of her youngest daughter on the nightstand. Emma’s sweet smile captured her heart.

  Is her hair still as fair? Megan picked up the frame as tears welled up in her eyes. Would she still look like me as a child or would she have outgrown that, like Alexis when she turned five?

  She glanced down at the envelope clenched in her hand. Her eyes burned as she read the bold cursive writing that contrasted against the white paper.

  Happy Birthday Emma. Love, Daddy.

  A car door slammed outside. With a sigh, Megan stood from Emma’s bed and edged toward the window. Peter was home early. She hugged herself in an attempt to warm up. From the moment she’d slipped out of bed, her body felt like it had been encased in ice. It wore her down. The assembly had drained her today. More than she cared to admit.

  Tired of being strong for everyone else in her life, of trying to prove she was okay and not a basket of nerves, Megan needed some time alone, time to wallow in her self-pity and loneliness before her girls came home and she had to be strong. Again.

  Megan leaned her head against the window and watched Peter enter the house. It would get easier, she was told, by those who didn’t understand. Easier for whom? For those who forgot? For those whose child was still safe in their arms? Life didn’t get easier. It wasn’t fair.

  The heavy tread on the stairway announced her husband’s presence.

  “You got her a card,” Megan said, her voice a mere whisper against the silence in the room. She counted the steps it took for Peter to walk toward her. Her body relaxed as his arms wrapped themselves around her. Her body trembled as the sobs she worked so hard to rein in escaped.

  Megan’s breath caught in her throat as Peter took the card he’d left in the room from her hand. He leaned to the side and placed the card down on the bed. Face up. Megan couldn’t look away from it. A chill had settled deep within, freezing her body until the flow of her blood slowed. She waited for his warmth to seep into her bones.

  “The little girl on the card reminded me of Emma. I had to buy it.” The roughness of his voice filled the room. One hand stroked her back.

  Megan pulled her head back and saw tears fall from her husband’s crystal blue eyes. She could count on one hand the amount of times she’d seen him cry. She touched a tear with her finger and used the pad of her thumb to brush away the rest.

  “It’s perfect.” She rested her head against his chest again. She stood there for what felt like years but could only be minutes before Peter took hold of her arms and leaned back to look in her eyes.

  “How was the assembly?”

  “It was . . . okay. Hard, but I dealt with it. After what we heard on the news last night, I couldn’t reschedule. Not today. Even if all I did was remind those kids of the steps they can take if something ever was to happen. It was worth it.” She stepped away and stood by the bed.

  “Worth killing yourself over?” A sad smile covered Peter’s face.

  “That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think? I’m not killing myself. I may be tired, but I just need more sleep. I’ll be fine.”

  “Until you fall apart. I just want you to be careful. Last year . . .” Peter took a step toward her but Megan backed away.

  “I’m fine.”

  When Peter’s shoulders slumped, she knew he didn’t believe her. She expected him to argue, to insist that he knew better, that he knew the signs. When he didn’t, she shrugged her shoulder. Some victories didn’t deserve bragging rights.

  “About this morning . . .” She hated the small arguments that became a regular routine in their busy lives.

  “I figured something came up.” Peter rubbed his hands down Megan’s arm. “You’re freezing. Why don’t you go have a bath?”

  Megan sank down onto Emma’s bed. She knew she should tell him about the little girl this morning, but she couldn’t. Instead, she smoothed the covers, fluffed the pillow, and righted the stuffed lamb that rested on its side.

  “I will in a minute.” She waited until Peter’s footsteps left Emma’s room before her shoulders hunched over and she bowed her head. Her eyes remained dry. Two years’ worth of tears had already been spilled in this room.

  “I miss you, baby. I’m so sorry I lost you. I should have paid better attention.”

  Megan pulled back the curtain and searched the sidewalk outside.

  “They’ll be home soon. Relax. I made some tea.” Peter crossed the living-room floor and handed her a steaming cup. She gave him a brief smile before she turned her attention back to the view outside.

  “Why haven’t they called? If they’re running late, they

  know to call. I should have picked them up.” She bit her lip. “Megan. Stop. They’ll be home.” Peter sat down in the corner chair, picked up his latest home-building magazine, and flipped through the pages. She took a sip from her tea before setting it down on the coffee table. How could Peter be so relaxed?

  After another glance outside, Megan headed to the front door. She’d just wait for them outside, maybe head toward the school, and meet them somewhere in between. They can’t be that far away, right?

  “Where’re you going?” The annoyed tone in Peter’s voice stopped her.

  “I’ll wait for them outside.” She placed her hand on the doorknob, opened the door, and listened for the computerized voice to announce that the front door was ajar. Even after two years of listening to the installed alarm system, Megan still worried it would one day stop working.

  “You need to let them grow. They’re old enough now to walk home by themselves.”

  This was the first time since the inception of her Safe Walks program that her children had no adult supervision. Megan counted to three. One. Deep breath. Two. This wasn’t working. Three. She needed to devise another method of calming. She didn’t want to go back to the psychiatrist.

  “Wait for me. I’ll walk with you,” Peter said as the telltale creak in the chair let Megan know he’d stood up. She also heard the sigh in his voice.

  She pulled the door open and held it for Peter. He knew her so well.

  “Mrs. Temple walked us to the corner but then we saw a little puppy all by himself so Hannah wanted to see if it was lost but then I told her we were late as it is.” Alexis, their nine-year-old, skipped beside Peter as Megan held her el- dest daughter Hannah’s hand. They’d met the girls at the end of the block. It was all Megan could do to keep her emotions together and not lose it.

  Hannah squeezed her hand three times, their silent message in their family. I. Love. You. Megan glanced down and smiled. The worried look in Hannah’s eyes was still there.

  “What have we told you girls about stray dogs?” Peter looked over his shoulder at Hannah, a frown on his face.

  Hannah’s head dropped down to her chest and her feet shuffled along the sidewalk.

  “I thought it was old Mr. Patterson’s dog. Honest. I didn’t go near it,” she whispered. She glanced up at Megan. “Not like last time.”

  Megan rubbed her thumb over the scars on Hannah’s hand as her daughter tightened her grip.

  “I know. We were just worried. Did you thank Mrs. Temple for walking you so far?” Megan made a mental note to write her a thank-you note.

  “I did. She said not to worry about it and that today was difficult enough and that you didn’t need to be worried about us walking home alone.” Hannah bit her lip and readjusted the backpack slung over her shoulder.

  “That was nice of her,” Megan said as they walked up the driveway. Peter and Alexis had already entered the house, but Hannah continued
to drag her feet.

  “What’s up, kiddo?”

  “Nothing.” Hannah stared at the ground as her feet shuffled against the pavement.

  “Are you sure?” Megan placed her arm around her daughter’s slender frame and squeezed. Today was a hard day for everyone.

  “Mom, I . . .” Hannah’s shoulders slumped. “Can we talk in private?”

  Megan’s heart sank at the worry in Hannah’s voice. “Sure we can. Let’s go sit on the swing in the back.”

  Alexis stuck her head out the front door and held the cordless phone up high.

  “Grandma’s on the phone.”

  Megan sighed. Talking to her mom wasn’t something she wanted to deal with right now.

  “Tell her I’ll call back,” she called out.

  Alexis shook her head. “Nope. Grandma says she wants to talk to you. No excuses this time either.”

  Megan’s eyebrow rose as she glared at her daughter. “Excuse me?”

  Alexis shrugged her shoulder. “That’s what Grandma said to say.”

  Megan closed her eyes and groaned. For a woman who drilled into her children always to respect your elders, she wasn’t doing too good of a job of teaching the same message to her grandkids.

  “We’ll talk after, okay?” Megan leaned down and placed a kiss on top of Hannah’s head.

  Hannah rolled her eyes and Megan had to purse her lips to keep from snapping at her. She grabbed the phone out of Alexis’s hand instead and watched Hannah swing her backpack off her shoulder and drag it on the ground.

  Megan waited until the kids were inside the house before she sat down on one of the front-porch chairs and raised the phone to her ear.

  “Well, it’s about time. How are you holding up, Megan? Your dad and I are thinking of you today.”

  “We’re fine, thanks for asking.” Megan leaned back in the chair.

  “Well, I just didn’t want you to think we forgot Emma’s birthday.”

  “I know you wouldn’t have. Why don’t we do lunch this week?” Megan asked. “It’s been a while and I’m in the mood for some good Chinese food.”

  “It’s only been a while because you never call anymore. Nor do you return any of my emails or comment on that new fancy webpage you set up for me on that book thing.”

  “Facebook, Mom. It’s called Facebook.” An intense pounding started in Megan’s head.

  “I’m worried about you. You run yourself ragged trying to do everything. Just don’t fall back into old habits. You know, get depressed and everything again.” Sheila whispered depressed as though the word itself was evil.

  Megan wanted to laugh. If only her mother knew.

  “I’m not depressed.”

  “Are you sure? I’m worried,” Sheila said. Again.

  “Yes, I’m sure.” A wave of heaviness settled over Megan’s body as she said good-bye and hung up the phone. Peter opened the front door and stuck his head out.

  “What’d she want?”

  Megan shook her head, stood from the chair. “Nothing important.”

  Of course, Emma would come home. That wasn’t even a question. Megan’s whole purpose in life was to make sure their daughter came home. It’s why she organized assemblies, handed out flyers, and wrote for online media outlets about missing children. To bring her daughter home. She knew the statistics, better than she should. Over 800,000 children are reported missing every year and the majority of those children are never found and presumed dead. Megan refused to believe her daughter was a statistic.

  She couldn’t be. Emma was still alive, she knew it. A mother’s heart would know if her child was dead or not. There was a special connection, a bond. That bond was still there.

  Megan stood up on shaking legs.

  So, why didn’t she feel the connection anymore?

  Four

  Hey, Mom.”

  Megan forced a smile as she entered the large, sunny kitchen.

  Hannah and Alexis were perched at the island bar. Alexis sat with her bar stool tipped backward so her chest met her knees whereas Hannah sat straight as a rod on hers. The two girls were so opposite of each other in looks and in temperament, yet they were only sixteen months apart. Alexis nibbled on her brown shoulder-length hair, an annoying habit Megan couldn’t stand. She stood behind them and placed her hands on both backs.

  With Alexis, she added a bit of strength, forcing her stool back onto four feet. When Alexis glanced up, Megan raised her eyebrow and waited for her daughter to sit properly on her stool. Megan wouldn’t even begin to count the number of times Alexis had tipped that stool over because she leaned too far back. One hospital trip and five stitches to the head was enough for one lifetime.

  “So, tell me, how was school?” She peeked over their shoulders. Alexis worked on a science assignment, a subject she found difficult, and Hannah doodled on a math work- sheet.

  “Boring.” Alexis bit on the end of her pencil while her head was tilted backward. “Can’t wait till it’s over.”

  “So, who walked the other group of kids home today? Do you know?” The first school to implement Megan’s Safe Walks program was the girls’. There were five parent volunteers so far to help with the routes.

  “Erica’s mom,” Alexis muttered. Megan knew from the tone that Alexis didn’t like her. For some reason Alexis didn’t get along with Mrs. Johnston, but the woman had a heart of gold.

  “Nice outfit.” Megan crossed her arms as she took in Alexis’s black skull shirt and short skirt.

  Alexis glanced down at her clothing and red stained her cheeks. What? Did she not think Megan would say anything?

  “I like it,” Alexis mumbled.

  “It’s not what you had on this morning, is it? Did you think I wouldn’t notice? You kind of stood out in the crowd, Alex, with your bright lime-green sweater.”

  Alexis folded her arms across her body and sulked.

  “It’s only clothing, Mom. Besides, Grandma says I’m unique and I need to show the world that I’m an original.”

  “And did Grandma tell you it was okay to disobey your parents, go behind their backs, and change clothes at school?” If Sheila dearest were here right now, she’d realize her worries about depression were overrated. Anger? Now that would be a different story.

  At least her daughter had the decency to lower her head in shame.

  “No.”

  “Didn’t think so,” Megan said. She squeezed Alexis’s shoulder before turning. Hannah’s gaze never left her math paper. Megan placed her arms around Hannah’s body and pulled until she rested against her chest. It took a moment, but Hannah relaxed her hard posture and melted against her body.

  Megan placed her cheek against Hannah’s hair.

  “Hard day?”

  Hannah nodded. Megan glanced up at Peter who stood

  with his back against the stove. He shrugged his shoulder. “I ordered pizza on my way home,” Peter said. No one

  answered. Pizza was Emma’s favorite meal.

  “Maybe we could go get some ice cream later?” Megan walked over to the sink. Breakfast dishes still sat in the cold, murky water. The mundane task seemed easy to follow, any- thing to keep her mind off what today signified. She held her cold fingers under the flow of hot water, and listened to the quiet chatter of her daughters as they worked through their homework.

  A hand settled on her shoulder.

  “Want help?” Peter held a tea towel in his hand. “Thanks,” she said.

  “Argh.” Hannah’s voice caught her attention.

  Megan turned and faced her daughter. Hannah had pushed her books away and held a pencil in her hand. Her long blonde hair framed against her face and her big blue eyes shimmered with tears.

  Hannah’s chin wobbled.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Stupid math.” Hannah’s shoulders slumped. Megan crossed the room, grabbed the book, and scanned it.

  “It’s the same question as the one above it, just worded differently.” She looked int
o her daughter’s eyes and moved to give her a hug.

  Hannah swiveled her stool so she faced outward and held out her arms. Huge sobs racked her body as she clung to Megan.

  “Hannah honey, it’s okay. Shhh, it’s going to be okay,” said Megan, her voice soft as she held her eldest daughter in her arms.

  The doorbell rang. When Peter left the room, Megan pulled away and lifted Hannah’s chin so she could look in her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Hannah’s body jumped as she hiccupped through her tears. Alexis, who still sat on the stool beside Hannah, giggled. Megan gave her a look and nodded her head toward the living room. After Alexis jumped down and ran to the other room, Megan grabbed the stool and pulled it close to her child. Hannah, with a tentative reach, touched Megan’s hand and grabbed hold.

  “I miss her.”

  Hannah’s voice was so low Megan almost didn’t catch the words. Her heart lurched as she took in her daughter’s demeanor. While Megan felt broken, Hannah looked it. Hannah shrunk inside herself, shoulders hunched forward, chest slouched, and dark circles hung under her eyes.

  “I really miss her, Mom.”

  “So do I honey, so do I,” Megan said. Their whole family hurt. Emma’s disappearance created crevices deep within their souls.

  “But it’s my fault. Mom, it’s my fault Emma’s gone.”

  Megan bit her lip. They’d gone over this time and again. Hannah refused to accept that it wasn’t her fault. Maybe it was time to take her back to the family counselor.

  “I knew this was a mistake,” Peter grumbled as they pulled into the crowded parking lot of the local ice-cream parlor. Lights blazed through the windows and the tables were filled with others on a quest for the best ice cream in town.

  “So was the pizza. But you didn’t hear anyone complain, did you?” Megan said.

  “Yes! Mackenzie’s here.”

  Megan glanced in the back of the Jeep. Alexis bounced in her seat. Megan knew that the moment the vehicle stopped Alexis would be out the door.