Emma's Secret Page 8

  “Thank you.” His voice lowered. “I never said it that day. Thank you for loving Em and keeping her safe.” Peter swallowed past the golf ball lodged in his throat. He sniffed and blinked his eyes. “And I’m sorry for your loss.”

  No other words were spoken, just a tight nod of the head as Jack released Emma into Peter’s arms.

  Peter held his daughter close as he walked out of the donut shop. Emma’s arm waved relentlessly as they walked away. A huge smile filled her face. Once they were settled and Peter was driving out of the parking lot, Emma asked the question Peter wasn’t sure he wanted to answer.

  “Can we go back tomorrow?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Jack stood at the top of his porch steps and looked out over his front yard. Weeds peeked from crevices along the stone path, flowers wilted in the hot afternoon sun, and the grass was in dire need of a cut.

  He’d let things go. If Dottie were here, she’d have a thing or two to say.

  Jack pulled the kerchief out from his back pocket and mopped the sweat off his forehead and neck. The cloudless sky showed no mercy of rain or shelter from the sun’s rays. Last year during days like this, he was out in back beneath the trees, playing with his sweet Emmie.

  He missed those days. Guilt ate at him, tearing him up from the inside out. He wished time would reverse, even if just for a moment. He wanted to go back to that day when he sat with his girls, drinking ice-cold lemonade and drawing silly pictures with Emmie while listening to the clicking of Dottie’s knitting needles as she made another hat or booties for the church donation box. He wished to relive his ignorance and believe that Emmie was really his.

  He’d known Dottie had been in a bad place, but he hadn’t realized just how bad. When did her memory first go? How could she honestly have thought that Emmie was theirs? Why hadn’t he seen it sooner? He’d never forgive himself for not seeing what was in front of his eyes.

  Gripping the porch railing, Jack walked down the steps and made his way across his front lawn. In the middle of his yard, he’d stuck a bench and planted a small tree. That was the first plant he watered in the morning.

  When Dottie passed away, Jack had to make a choice. He could bury her either in Hanton, where so many of their friends were buried, or in Kinrich, close to Emmie. But with the huge media outcry when Emmie was found, Jack knew the last thing Dottie would want was to be buried where anyone could find her. She was a private woman. Always had been. Always would be.

  There were trees in their backyard dedicated to the memory of Dottie’s family. Their ashes were buried beneath the tree roots, encased in cedar boxes that Jack had made over the years. Planting a tree was one of Dottie’s family traditions, and he knew she would expect nothing less for her own remains.

  He’d planted this tree in the front yard so that he’d always see it. He loved to sit on the front porch; it was his resting place, where he could look out over his flowers and feel a sense of pride. The backyard reminded him too much of Dottie, with her flower garden now overgrown, the chairs beneath the tree branches, and the tire swing he’d hung for Emmie.

  He wasn’t ready to sit among those memories yet.

  Besides, Dottie needed a place of honor. She deserved it.

  He lowered himself onto the wood bench next to the tree and pulled out some leaves that had fallen into the wooden bucket planters beside it. Otherwise, the flowers bloomed healthy and hale. But then he made sure to water them at the same time he watered Dottie’s tree.

  “Well, Dottie-mine. I saw her. I saw our girl.” His voice choked on the words. “She looks good. Growing like a weed. And she’s happy. Our girl is happy.” Jack swiped away at his wet cheeks.

  “I wish you could have seen her, honey, one last time before you left. She misses you. She was telling me how she likes to bake with her mom, and how she’s a good little helper because you used to let her help you. She’ll never forget you, Dottie. You’ll always be her grandma.”

  Jack leaned back on the bench and crossed his legs in front of him. He should have worn his hat. Sweat dripped down his neck, and he was feeling drowsy from the heat.

  The gentle buzz of a bee filled the air amid the chirping from a nest at the side of the house. He closed his eyes and let the peace wash over him. He wasn’t much for getting emotional, but he couldn’t hide it from Dottie. He never could. She could always see right through him.

  “If you had asked me yesterday, I would have told you I’d be coming to see you real soon. I was ready, baby. To see your face again, to hold you in my arms, to listen to you rail at me for letting my flowers go…I miss you, Dottie-mine. But I can’t now. Not after seeing our girl. I can’t leave her.” Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at the tree. “I want to show her this tree, explain to her what it means. I’m not sure if that will ever happen, but I want the chance in case it does.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

  “Her father is a good man. I knew it was hard for him when Em saw me. If I were him, I’d have taken her out of the store and called the police.” Jack lifted his gaze to the sky and shook his head. “He’s a stronger man than I could ever be, Dottie-mine. He’s going to bring her back to the donut shop. Can you believe it? Not every day, but maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll get to see her once every few weeks. I can’t let her down. What if she comes and I’m not there?” He tried to clear his dry throat, but it hurt. “I know I’m just a foolish old man, but I can’t give up hope.”

  Jack unfolded the picture in his hands. “She drew us something. Our Emmie. She’s quite the artist. I thought she’d have forgotten us by now, but she hasn’t.” Jack traced the images on the paper. “We’re all holding hands, Dottie-mine. Our girl…” The image blurred in front of him. Jack berated himself for allowing his emotions to get the better of him. He didn’t want to lose this picture.

  “She drew us. You, me, and her. Holding hands, with Daisy. I’m going to frame it and put it in the living room, right next to the other ones she made for us.”

  Jack cleared his throat. “Be happy, Dottie-mine. Be happy and at peace. All is well, and I’ll see you soon.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  December 9

  My heart is so heavy, and I’m so angry lately.

  I know Jack is concerned. He has an anxious look in his eyes when I lash out at him, but the old man, he doesn’t say anything.

  I’m afraid that I’ll lose everyone I love, and I’m afraid of what that means—being alone. I’m scared.

  I have nightmares most nights. Even my dreams are filled with empty coffins.

  Yesterday passed so quickly. There are moments I can’t recall anything that went on.

  I almost broke down last night with Jack during our tea, but then I heard Emmie’s cries throughout the house and I went to comfort her. She still cries in her sleep, wanting her mommy. When I came back down to the kitchen, I noticed Jack holding his pill bottle. Just a little chest pain is all, he said. But I know that man better than he thinks. He would only take those pills if he was in a lot of pain. The radio was on low, and the story of a woman trying to find her daughter came on. It’s been on the radio all day. The sound of that woman’s pleas haunt me. I know what she is going through. I understand her fears. I wish I could write her a letter and tell her to never give up, not like I did. But I won’t. Sometimes the lessons we learn in life aren’t meant to be shared.

  I often wonder if Jack ever thinks about when Mary went missing all those years ago. How worried we were. How we searched all over only to realize that our child wasn’t missing—she’d run away from the ones who loved her most.

  A woman can handle only so much weight on her shoulders before her knees give out and she can’t get back up again. I’m not sure how much more I can take.

  Emmie is a beautiful child. I see so much of Mary in her. She has Jack’s eyes, pale blue that darken when she cries or gets sad. The poor child is so scared and sad. I
just want to wrap my arms around her and never let her go. I made so many mistakes with Mary, but I can only believe that this is God’s way of giving me another chance. Those rare moments when she smiles are priceless. Why didn’t I treasure Mary’s smiles when she was this age? I can’t stop thanking God that I found her when I did. Otherwise, my granddaughter might have forever been lost to me.

  Please, Mary, if you are looking down, know that I never stopped loving you. I promise to be a better grandmother to your child than I was a mother to you. I promise.

  Megan rocked herself in the back-porch swing, enjoying the gentle summer breeze kissing her shoulders and arms as she drank in the silence.

  She loved this time of day best, when the birds’ sweet songs filled the summer air and the sun dropped slowly into the horizon. Sometimes Peter would sit out here with her on the swing, coffee in hand, as they struggled to reconnect with each other. It had been Kathy’s suggestion that they do this, a means of rebuilding the tenuous bonds of their marriage. So far it wasn’t working. Most of the time she was out here alone while Peter was stuck at the office.

  Although she wasn’t sure “stuck” was the right word. It was his choice to work late nights. She wasn’t sure why he needed to—Samantha was supposed to help lighten his load. Unless…

  In the beginning, it was almost as if he were trying to avoid Emma, which made no sense. But lately, all the two seemed to do was spend time together. Their bond was growing stronger, and while Megan loved to see it develop, she also felt left out. The thought made her sigh deeply.

  Emma was smart for her age. She’d have no problems going to kindergarten in the fall. At night, when Megan tucked the girls into bed, Emma was always waiting with a book she’d picked out. She’d snuggle tight beside Megan, pointing out the smallest details in the pictures.

  Megan lifted the phone and stared at the text message she’d received earlier. She’d asked Peter whether he would be home for dinner. The only reply was that he was working late. Again. Seems like that was all he did—even on the weekend. She’d canceled going to the movies with Laurie too many times to count. Just to make amends, she’d been spending the hot days in Laurie’s pool. The kids loved it, and to be honest, so did she. But she was finally ready for a girls’ night out without kids. She needed it, and she’d asked Peter to be home tonight by seven thirty at the latest. He still hadn’t responded. She was desperate enough that if he didn’t call soon, she would pack the kids up and take them to her mom’s house—something she rarely did.

  She stared out at her yard and noticed the sprinkling of toys layered along the grass. Peter had built Daisy a little run alongside the house; thank God, the dog was learning to go to the bathroom there.

  The sound of light squabbling filtered through the open sliding doors. The girls were watching a kids’ special on the television. Megan had popped some popcorn and was letting them have a pajama party in the living room.

  The phone buzzed in her hand. Be home soon. Her brow rose in surprise. Nothing like leaving it to the last minute; Laurie was due to arrive within half an hour.

  “Mom! Emma won’t share the popcorn.” Alexis stood at the sliding doors with her hands on her hips.

  Megan planted her feet on the ground to stop the rocking motion of the swing and stood. “Really, Alexis? It’s a bowl of popcorn. Not really something worth fighting over. We can always make more if you want more.”

  The frown on her middle daughter’s face was priceless. Megan struggled not to laugh. It was only popcorn. Did she really expect to get Emma in trouble over this?

  “It’s not fair. You said we all had to share.” She took a few steps back to allow Megan room to enter the kitchen, but now her arms were crossed over her chest.

  “And did you get any?”

  The scowl deepened. “That’s not the point.”

  Megan shrugged. A third child added an extra element to their family’s dynamic. Hannah and Alexis were still in the adjustment stage of accepting their sister into the house, even though the fact that Emma had been taken wasn’t anyone’s fault.

  “So we’ll make more. Why don’t you go bring in the bowl, and you can help me.”

  “Can’t we just get a new bowl? Emma’s hogging the other one.”

  Megan rolled her eyes and then pointed to the cabinet where they kept the Tupperware bowls. “Go ahead.” With Alexis, she’d learned a long time ago to pick her battles. This wasn’t one of them.

  Megan pulled a white canister over to the popcorn machine and opened the lid. She let Alexis pour two spoonsful of kernels into it before she plugged it in. Alexis stood there, watching the swirling kernels, and jumped at the first pop. Megan couldn’t help but smile. She always jumped too. They waited for the bowl to fill with the fluffy white popcorn and then unplugged the machine.

  “Make sure you don’t touch this, okay? It’s pretty hot. And please share with your sisters. This bowl isn’t all yours.” Judging by the scowl on her daughter’s face, being told to share wasn’t quite what she wanted to hear.

  Megan turned to glance at the clock and frowned. Laurie sat at the kitchen table.

  “How did you get in?” The door should have been locked with the alarm set.

  “With my key.” Laurie held up her key ring.

  “Was the alarm on?” Megan’s heart beat a little faster at the thought that Emma could have left again and no one would have known.

  “It beeped. I figured you didn’t hear it over the popcorn machine. Don’t worry; I reset it and locked the door.”

  Megan unclenched her hand and took in a deep breath.

  “Hey, Lexi, how ya’ doin’, girl?” Laurie snaked a hand out and grabbed a handful of popcorn before Alexis could pass her.

  Megan was jealous of the special bond between the two of them. Laurie was the only one who could call her daughter Lexi. The last time Megan tried, Alexis had bitten her head off. Peter could get away with calling her Lex, but everyone else had to use Alex or Alexis. “Mom says I have to share. But Emma ate the other bowl. It’s not fair.” Alexis pouted. Megan frowned before shaking her head at Laurie. Alex had been complaining about Emma all week. It was tiring.

  Laurie leaned forward in the chair. “I bet Emma is so full from eating all the other popcorn that she won’t even want any.”

  Alexis groaned. “She will. I know it.”

  “Then let her have a few handfuls. I bet she won’t want more than that.” Laurie shrugged her shoulders before leaning back.

  Alexis glanced over her shoulder and stared at Megan before looking down at the bowl in her hands. “Yeah, probably. Have fun tonight.”

  Megan crossed the kitchen, sat across from Laurie, and sighed as they both watched Alexis walk away.

  “Any plans yet for her birthday?” Laurie tapped her fingernails on the table.

  Megan’s eyes widened. She looked at the calendar on the wall and winced. Alexis’s birthday was in five days. Five days. How could she have forgotten that?

  “You forgot, didn’t you?” The gentle accusation in Laurie’s voice rang loud and clear.

  Megan frowned. She struggled to recall anytime Alexis had mentioned her birthday, but she couldn’t think of a single time. Normally, Alexis would be brimming with excitement and plans. With her birthday in August, she normally wanted to do something outside, a pool party or picnic. Last year, they held a mock summer Olympics in their backyard, complete with an egg toss, a waterslide, and horseshoes.

  “I’m sure she’s talked about it with Peter, and he’s told her he’d talk to me.” At least, she prayed that was true.

  There was a slight rise in Laurie’s eyebrow. “I’m sure. And where is your husband anyway? If you cancel on me again, I’ll scream.”

  Before Megan could respond, the sound of the front door opening and then closing caught their attention. She cocked her head before looking past Laurie’s shoulder, and waited for Peter.

  There was a small thud of what she imagined to be Peter’s
briefcase as it hit the floor, and they heard the jingle of keys dropped into the bowl on the front table. Within moments, her husband walked down the hallway and stood at the kitchen doorway.

  There were visible creases along his face, and a strain to his smile as he nodded to Laurie and then leaned down to brush his lips against Megan’s cheek. She smiled up at him before reaching for his hand. She needed to touch him, to feel a connection between them, but he only grazed her fingers before turning away. She could see the look on Laurie’s face out of the corner of her eye but refused to meet her gaze. Megan wasn’t in the mood for sympathy.

  “So you’re going on a girls’ date? What movie are you going to see?” Peter reached into the fridge and grabbed the water jug.

  “Some chick flick Laurie’s been wanting to see.” Megan smiled before narrowing her gaze. “Has Alex mentioned anything about her birthday to you?” She kept her voice down, just in case her daughter was eavesdropping.

  Peter only shook his head as he gulped down the glass of water. “No. I figured you were on top of that.” He reopened the fridge door and peered inside. “Did you leave me anything for supper?” He pulled open the oven door before reaching for the microwave and finding the plate of food in there for him.

  Megan’s heart sank. She had five days.

  “You forgot, didn’t you?”

  The look in his eyes said it all. Megan sighed.

  Peter shrugged it off. “I’ll talk to her tonight about it. Explain that we just lost track of time.” She noticed the thin crease around his mouth.

  “Or,” Laurie interrupted, “we could plan a surprise party. There’s that new go-kart track that opened just out of town. They have miniature golf too. You could call and see if there is an opening. Invite some friends…”