Emma's Secret Page 9

  Megan smiled. “I like that idea.” She could ask her parents and some of Alexis’s friends to join them. A surprise party would be perfect. Then Alexis would never know Megan had completely forgotten her birthday.

  “That will work.” Peter nodded. The look he gave Megan told her he thought she should have come up with that idea rather than Laurie. Waves of his disappointment and disapproval washed over her as a glower settled on his face. Now that Emma was home, he thought she should be there 100 percent for Hannah and Alexis. And he was right. She should.

  “Did you at least remember to order that gift I wanted for her?” His brow rose as if he didn’t expect her to say yes.

  Megan stared at him blankly, trying to remember what gift he had wanted ordered. It sounded vaguely familiar.

  “The golf bag, Megan. I wanted to get her a new golf bag with her name on it to go with the golf clubs I ordered. Remember? You told me you’d take care of it.” Peter sighed as he laid his plate down on the kitchen counter.

  Right. She bit her lip while remembering the phone call she’d made. “They were out of the bag you wanted with the purple camouflage fabric, so they were going to see if they could locate one in their other store.” She caught the skepticism in his gaze. “I’ll give them a call tomorrow.” She made a mental note not to forget.

  Peter thought her lack of memory was due to laziness. Her counselor said it was because she didn’t view the small issues as important enough to remember. But Megan feared something different. For two years, she’d been so focused on finding Emma that she’d gotten in the habit of putting off everything else until the last minute. She wasn’t lazy or forgetful. She had simply forgotten how to prioritize.

  The problem was that she needed to make her entire family a priority now. Not just Emma.

  The guilt she’d felt earlier intensified. She could tell Alexis until she was blue in the face that her birthday was more important to her than anything else, but they both knew Megan would be lying.

  There was nothing Jack loved more than being in his woodshed. Sure, the sawdust made his eyes water and he’d sneeze for the next day or two, but there was something about the smell. Dottie used to say it offered promises of what was to come; he personally believed it offered the promise of the unknown.

  Being out here kept him busy and kept his mind off what he’d found earlier.

  Jack set the piece of quarter-inch-thick plywood he’d just cut on the side table and picked up another piece. Only three more to cut. He knew it was early, but before Emmie had been returned to her parents, he’d been planning to build her a Victorian dollhouse for Christmas. Now that his girl was back in his life, he wanted her to have it.

  He took a quick look at the drawings he’d made to confirm that the markings on the wood were correct, and then powered up his table saw and gently pushed the wood along until it was cut in half.

  He’d spent a long time on this drawing. There were a few designs in one of his books Dottie had bought him a few years ago that he liked, but instead of choosing just one, he decided to incorporate what he liked from several. The only problem was that the house looked like a mishmash now.

  He grabbed the design from the corkboard across from him and gazed at it. Maybe if he added some lattice around the roof, a wraparound porch, and extra doors…he grabbed the pencil behind his ear and was sketching the layout of the porch when a car horn interrupted him.

  Jack stepped out of his woodshed and hesitated before waving to Doug. Not sure whether he’d kept the surprise off his face, he stepped back into his shed and kicked open the old fridge in the corner. By the time Doug walked in, Jack had two cans of root beer opened and had already chugged half his can. It felt good to taste something other than sawdust in his mouth.

  “Thanks.” Doug took the offered can and sipped. There was a gleam in his eye as he looked around.

  Jack puffed out his chest before taking another long drink. He was proud of his shed. He’d added on to it last year, enlarging it so that he had more room to store his projects and keep them out of Dottie’s way. Off to the side was a table he’d lowered for Emmie. On days when he wasn’t cutting wood, she’d sometimes sit out here with him and color while he tinkered. He missed those days.

  “It’s been a long time,” Jack muttered. Ever since Dottie banned Doug from her life, he’d never stopped by. Not until now.

  “Need some help?” Doug’s gaze shifted to the corner where Jack’s half-finished projects collected dust. Most needed to be stained or painted.

  “I’ll get to them eventually.” Jack shrugged before emptying his can and throwing it in the recycle box beneath his table. A metallic sound filled the silence.

  Doug’s lips tightened, but Jack was glad he didn’t say anything. Having Doug here was uncomfortable, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. The coffee shop, the races—those were neutral grounds. But here, where Doug’s presence hadn’t been allowed since Jack had come home from the war…well, Dottie was probably glaring at them right now, angry beyond words that Doug would have the audacity to go behind her back.

  “Think Dottie’s turning in her grave?” Doug’s voice was gruff.

  “Why not go find out for yourself. She’s out front, beneath the new sapling.” Jack nodded toward the door and waited to see whether Doug would leave.

  “Thought for sure you would have put her in the back with her brother.” The surprise in Doug’s voice caught Jack off guard. A tremor worked its way through his body, but Jack fisted his hands and ignored it.

  “Sometimes Dottie didn’t know what’s good for her. She was too focused on the past. I can’t go back there anymore,” he mumbled.

  “So don’t.” Jack jumped at Doug’s brief touch on his shoulder.

  Jack cleared his throat. “Why’d you come anyway?”

  Doug’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a sigh and pulled out a stool from beneath the table.

  “I’m tired, old, and lonely as hell. And I know you are too. You heard Kenny; he knows he’s dying. We know he’s dying. And you…” Doug gave him a pointed look. “Something’s up with you, but you’re too pigheaded to ask for help.”

  Jack buried his hands in his coverall pockets. He had half a mind to stop his old buddy from going any further, and yet he didn’t.

  “You’ve got this big old house that’s falling apart around your ears, and you’re too stubborn to sell it, but you can’t fix it up either. Let us move out here with you. Kenny has a day nurse; she’ll even cook up dinner if we ask nice enough. The three of us, we’ve been through hell and back together. Why not die together too?”

  Jack shook his head. “Who said anything about dying?”

  He’d already had that conversation with Dottie earlier. He wasn’t going anywhere. He had his little girl to take care of.

  “Then let us help you make sure you live long enough for her.”

  Jack hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud.

  “Just think about it.”

  Jack grunted. He’d already made his decision.

  He pointed to a small rocking horse on the floor.

  “Stain is on the top shelf. Go with the dark stuff. If you’re sticking around, you might as well make yourself useful.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Christmas Eve

  We’re snowed in. The tractor is broken, and Jack hasn’t been able to keep the lane clear during the heavy snowfall today. Thank goodness we don’t go anywhere for Christmas anymore.

  Our front yard is decorated with lumpy snowmen and tiny snow angels. Jack convinced me to put my knitting aside—I had just finished a dress for Emmie—and dragged me outside. We taught Emmie how to make snow angels and then Jack insisted on rolling mounds of snow together to make a snowman family. I swear my bones refuse to get warm now despite the blazing fire in front of me.

  In the months that Emmie has been with us, I’ve seen a change that warms my heart. She’s accepted us completely as her new family and rarely cries out at night
for her mommy anymore. I still catch the moments when I know she’s thinking of the life she used to have, and I wonder what I could have done differently, but there’s no going back. No changing the past. What’s done is done, and I can’t let it eat me up.

  She is Mary’s daughter. I know she is. I have moments of doubt—that is common, I think. I never knew about Emmie until the day I saw her. So much from that day is a blur. There are so many things I question and wish I could remember, but one thing I know for sure is that I love this little girl more than anything.

  This is her first Christmas with us, and I think it will be wonderful.

  Jack loves all the cookies and squares that have filled the kitchen. Emmie is a natural baker and a good helper. I think she’ll like the matching aprons I made for her and me to wear while we are baking. Our freezer is full of containers of baked items for Jack to donate to the local churches. He was supposed to have done that today, but with the snowfall warning for the county, I’m glad he didn’t. The cookies can wait.

  This is the first Christmas in a long time when I’m actually looking forward to the day. Our tree is up and decorated, the lights are strung, and the giggles of a young child remind me of the days when Mary was a little girl.

  The only thing more perfect would be for Mary to be here as well. But there’s a snowman outside with her name on it, so that will have to do, as Jack says.

  Brewster’s Bakery was packed. All the tables and chairs were full of people sipping cappuccinos and eating the shop’s famous homemade pastries. Laurie spotted two seats left at the far counter and sidestepped through the packed house. Megan followed after her, but not before stopping to look at the plated desserts in the cooling case. There were two pieces of Jan’s homemade coconut cream pie left.

  Luckily, Jan was behind the counter and saw her looking at the pies. She pulled the pie plate out of the case and held it up. Jan’s petite frame made it seem like she never touched a single dessert in the store, but Megan knew otherwise and often wished for her metabolism. Regardless, it was Jan’s sweet tooth that made this shop what it was.

  “Two pieces, please. I’d be in the doghouse if Peter knew I had a piece of your pie and didn’t bring him one.” She smiled, knowing Peter often teased that he should have married Jan when he had the chance back in third grade when she’d kissed him on a dare. Jan’s husband, Charlie, would blush and stutter in mock protest, while Jan herself would laugh and punch Peter in the arm, claiming he never had a chance compared to Charlie.

  Jan shook her head. “Sorry, sugar, but someone already claimed these.” She set the pie plate on the counter and slid the slices onto individual plates. She then reached below her and pulled out a shaker, with which she dusted a fine coating of chocolate powder on top of the pies.

  Megan groaned. She’d been looking forward to having a piece of pie all night. She studied the other desserts in the case, but nothing else called out to her.

  “However, your handsome husband did call me earlier and warned me you’d be in, so I set aside a full pie for you to take home. He wanted me to remind you to share.” She winked at Megan before handing the two plates to the customer, who waited patiently.

  Megan smiled. It figured that Peter would guess they’d come here after the movie. She glanced around the crowded shop and waved at several people she recognized. When it was Megan’s turn to order her cappuccino, she tried to get Laurie’s attention to find out what she wanted, but she seemed to be too engrossed in whatever she was looking at on her phone.

  “Two mocha lattes, please. One with soy milk and no whip. Jan has a pie set aside for me, but”—she leaned over to peruse the treats again—“two almond biscotti. Please,” she added to the teenager at the till.

  After paying, Megan made her way over to sit beside Laurie. She must have surprised her because it took a bit for Laurie to realize she’d sat down, and when she did, she quickly turned off her phone and threw it in her purse.

  “Something you want to tell me?” she teased at her friend’s furtive demeanor.

  A red flush crept its way up Laurie’s face as she looked away. Megan gasped in surprise.

  “No way. You’re not holding out on me, not now. How long did you think you could keep it a secret?” The way Laurie’s eyes widened, Megan knew she’d hit it dead on. Laurie was finally involved with someone.

  “What’s his name?” Megan turned her chair slightly so that she could face her best friend.

  Laurie shrugged, trying to hide her embarrassment. “It’s probably nothing, which is why I haven’t said anything yet.”

  Megan narrowed her eyes. “Not buying it.” She reached out and gently touched Laurie’s hand. It shocked her to feel her friend’s body tremble. “Laurie, are you okay?”

  She witnessed the struggle on Laurie’s face, and realized that this must be harder on her than she thought.

  “It’s been over four years; it’s okay, you know. He would want you to move on and be happy,” she whispered.

  Laurie shook her head. “I know. I tell myself that all the time. But it’s hard. Kris was the love of my life. But…”

  Megan leaned back as Jan set their coffees on the counter. Megan smiled at her in thanks. She wished Jan would walk away, but she didn’t know how to say it without hurting her feelings.

  “It’s good to see you finally in the land of the living, honey.” Jan leaned her hip against the counter. “You have no idea how much people have missed you.”

  Megan snorted. “I’ve always been living. I just prefer to do it quietly right now. The last thing Emma needs is to be in the spotlight. She didn’t handle it well when she first came home.”

  “This town just needs to learn to mind its own business,” Jan grumbled.

  “That’s the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?” Laurie muttered as she dropped her gaze to her coffee mug.

  “Really? You’re going to go there?” Jan’s eyebrow rose.

  When Laurie’s face burned bright red, Megan crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “Someone want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Laurie mumbled.

  Jan snickered. “I can’t believe you haven’t told her yet.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  Megan kept silent. Something was going on, and she had a feeling it had to do with whatever Laurie had been doing on her phone earlier. The question was why was she the last to know? With Laurie’s gaze burning holes into the counter, Megan reached for her latte and took a sip, waiting for the delicious warmth to flow into her. Jan made the best mocha latte around.

  “Hey.” Laurie glanced around the shop. “Where’s Shelly Belle?”

  “It’s too busy in here, so she’s sleeping in the back office. Now stop trying to change the subject.”

  The flow of voices surrounded them as they waited for Laurie to respond. Laurie bowed her head before finally raising her tear-filled eyes. The look on her face, the uncertainty and doubt, had Megan reaching across and enfolding her best friend in a hug.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” said Jan. Megan pulled away. “It’s not the end of the world, and no one is dying. Our girlfriend here”—Jan cocked her head toward Laurie before lowering her voice—“was caught in a heated embrace last night with—”

  “Just a man,” Laurie interjected.

  Jan’s brow rose.

  “What man?” Megan asked. Something was up. “Who is he? Where did you meet him? Why don’t you want me to know about this? Why didn’t you say something when you showed up this morning?”

  Laurie shook her head. “I was going to tell you, but there was the picture, and then the…” Her voice drifted off.

  “Oh, no, you don’t. This isn’t about me.” Megan turned to Jan, who shook her head and clamped her lips together. “Who is it? It’s not like I’m going to be upset. As long as it’s not Peter,” Megan joked.

  Laurie drew herself up tall and reached for her own cup. She slowly brought it to her lips and took her ti
me taking a sip before lowering it.

  “It’s no one, Meg. I only met the guy at the new shooting range that just opened up over on County Road 14. We chatted for a bit and then went for drinks afterward.” Laurie shrugged her shoulder, yet she didn’t look at her.

  “So you shot a gun, had some drinks, and then”—Megan glanced at Jan—“were caught in a heated embrace, but it’s nothing?” Why was Laurie hedging so much?

  Her friend’s cheeks bloomed a nice shade of red. “I had too many drinks, my bad.”

  “You’re really going to use that excuse?” The challenge in Jan’s voice was clear.

  A sad smile flittered across Laurie’s face. “It’s not an excuse; it just is what it is. I won’t be seeing him again, so really it doesn’t matter.”

  Megan groaned. “I still can’t believe I’m only just hearing about this. I must be the worst friend in the…” A blank look crossed both Laurie’s and Jan’s faces moments before terse smiles and narrowed eyes focused beyond her shoulder. She swiveled in her chair.

  “Martha, Evelyn, how nice to see you,” Megan cooed, knowing she couldn’t hide the fakeness in her tone. Why, tonight of all nights, did she have to run into the two people she detested the most?

  Martha Greer and Evelyn McNish could have been twins for the way they walked, talked, and dressed. Best friends for years, they were inseparable and always seemed to meddle in anything that was happening around town. Neither woman would ever be seen in Jan’s bakery in sneakers; only dress pants and heels would do. Martha always wore a string of pearls around her slender neck, while Evelyn never wore less than the opulent diamond necklace her husband bought her for their twentieth anniversary. They were both slightly older than Megan, slightly skinnier, and slightly more beautiful. They were also terrible gossips and had made Megan’s life miserable with all their backhanded whispers about how she was losing her mind in that first year of Emma’s disappearance.

  “Megan,” Evelyn purred, “it’s been forever since we’ve seen you. How are you?” The slightest smile was plastered on her face.