[Finding Emma 02.5] Dottie's Memories (2 page)

July 17

I thought Emmie had run away today. Just like Mary. I behaved like a crazy woman and embarrassed myself when I couldn't find Jack and I called Doug for help. Why did I call Doug? I should have remembered Jack was only down the road looking at our neighbour's old lawn mower.

Jack hasn't said anything but I know it bothered him. That I would call Doug instead of seek him out. I made his favorite cake as a peace offering. Saying I'm sorry or even trying to explain would serve no purpose.

I know we'll do what we always do
—
ignore it. It might not be the right way to handle a situation, but it's our way. And it works.

I had been outside with Emmie working in my garden while she played beside me. It was hot out and I thought it would be nice to make us some lemonade. I must have lost track of time because the next thing I remember, I was sitting in my chair in the living room. I must have fallen asleep.

I can't believe I did that. How could I have left Emmie outside by herself? How could I have forgotten about her long enough to decide I needed a nap? It doesn't make sense.

Although, a lot of things aren't making sense lately. I'm losing track of time, forgetting to do the simplest of things, like make dinner, or forgetting
where I put the sugar. I know Jack notices. He's started to write notes for me on the fridge, having me write out lists of what I need to do and he's been after me to set timers on all the things I cook or bake. But what do all these things matter if my mind goes blank?

I panicked when I couldn't find Emmie. I searched all through the house before I realized I'd left her outside. By herself! How could I have done that? I know we live out in the country, but it doesn't mean we're safe from dangers. What if someone had come by and taken her? What if...Jack tells me I can't live in the world of what ifs, that it does no one any good. He's right of course.

But when his truck wasn't in the driveway and I did the first thing I could think of. I called Doug. He must have heard the panic in my voice. He helped me to calm down. There was nothing else he could do. He doesn't live close enough to come out and help search. Why I called him in the first place, I don't know. It doesn't make any sense. Other than deep down, no matter what has happened between us, I know Doug will always be there for me. Even if I don't want him to be.

Emmie was outside sleeping in the play house Jack just finished making for her. Outside. Exactly where I had left her. Why didn't I think to look in her play house? That should have been the first place I looked. Even Jack said that. Why didn't I look in there first?

I don't know. Why didn't I?

October 31

Instead of having our house lights on and waiting for a handful of children to come knocking at our door, Jack suggested we take Emmie into Hanton and go out for dinner. Without making a big deal of the holiday, Jack suggested that Emmie dress up in one of her princess costumes we'd found at a garage sale last summer.

She sure did look like a miniature Cinderella.

Jack surprised me by taking us to the Chinese restaurant. My favorite place
—
we used to go there every Sunday afternoon for their buffet. It's the only place in the area that makes decent chicken balls. Mei Ling took to Emmie as soon as we came in. It had been so long since I last saw Mei Ling, even though we are the same age, she looked as delicate and beautiful as she used to. Hard to believe we were once best friends growing up.

When Mei Ling confessed that she knew me when I was her age, the look in Emma
’
s eyes had me laughing. Back in those days, it was unheard of for a German family to be close friends with a Chinese family, and yet, we were. Helped that we were neighbours and born close in age. Our mothers learned to lean on one another for help. I remember having a joint vegetable garden and Mei Ling and I pulling weeds in the early morning.

We didn't stay long. The place began to fill up too quickly for my liking and I think Jack could see how anxious I was getting. Mei Ling was kind enough to package up our meals so we could take them home. On our way to the truck, Jack took Emmie into some of the stores that were handing out candy to the kids before they closed up. She ended up with more than enough candy and I had to hide it when we got home. That much candy is never good for a young girl. The last thing she needs is to develop a sweet tooth and crave sugar all hours of the day. It's bad enough that Jack brings her home treats when he goes for coffee with the boys. Back when we were kids, having a sugar treat was reserved for extra special occasions.

I will admit though, she looked just like a princess all dressed up tonight.

November 5

Mary is outside with some stray dog she found in the field. The yapping is giving me a headache. There was a reason I don
’
t like dogs. You can
’
t trust them. The moment you turn your back, they snatch food off the counter, urinate in your flower garden and dig up your root vegetables thinking it
’
s a bone.

Growing up we used to have a dog. A collie. I thought it was a family pet and even gave it the name of Sugar. It didn
’
t take me long to realize there are only two reasons to have an animal on the farm. For food or for protection. The moment the animal stops protecting you, it becomes useless. We don
’
t need a dog around here.

Once Jack is home, I
’
m sure he
’
ll agree with me. He can give Mary the bad news. I
’
m tired of always being seen as the mean mommy. It
’
s time for Jack to step up. You can
’
t have it both ways and it
’
s not fair.

November 11

Veterans Day. A day to remember those who sacrificed their lives for our country.

To remember the fallen soldiers.

A day to remember the agony I experienced as a military wife. To remember the worst days of my life.

Poor Emmie doesn't understand. She sees Jack dressed up in his military uniform, looking so polished and handsome and is in awe. I see my husband wearing his badge of
honor
honour
and commitment. I also see the husband that I almost lost.

The mood is somber in our home. Jack began his morning with the bottle of whiskey that sits above the fridge. I don't like him drinking around Emmie, but today I kept quiet and had Emmie help me make muffins for breakfast.

We headed into Hanton, to the legion there. Standing around the flag pole, listening to the mayor, who is a son of a war veteran, brought tears to my eyes. Jack did a wonderful job explaining to Emmie the purpose of the ceremony and why it was so important to always remember.

I wish I could have told her otherwise.

There's nothing I would like more than to forget the time when he was listed as Missing in Action, when I thought he was dead or worse, a POW. I wish I could forget the loneliness and heartache Mary and I experienced as we tried to remain stoic and hopeful for his return.

I wish I could forget everything about that year.

Jack lays beside me in bed. He has the hot water bottle on his knee and is nursing a shot of whiskey beside him as the news drones on in the background. It's rare that he pays attention to his bad knee, but every so often it will swell up to the point where he can't handle the pain anymore. Same with the wounds on his back.

Today is a day that I remember just how much I love my husband and I thank God for bringing him home to me. It's like there's a battle inside of me
—
on one hand I am desperate to forget what he wants to remember but on the other hand, without that memory I know our marriage wouldn't be as strong as it is.

The pastor says God never gives us more than we can handle. But who says it's up to Him to determine what we can handle or not?

January 14

Jack is sick. I know he is. The pharmacist called the house today to let me know his prescription was ready to be picked up. I checked the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and his pill bottles weren't empty. What is this new prescription for?

He never tells me when something is wrong. He tries to protect me. But I know his heart isn't strong enough any more. I know that it's only a matter of time before I lose him.

I can't lose him. He's my everything.

We made a promise to each other a very long time ago, that we would never leave each other again, that we would die together, in this house. My parents did it. They both died within hours of each other in their bed one night. They were both old and ready to let others carry the burden. That's what I want for Jack and me. But now we have Emmie.

We can't die like we'd planned. Who would take care of Emmie? Certainly not Mary. My daughter can't even take care of herself and I refuse to allow Emmie to be raised in a shelter or a home where unwanted kids are sent. That will not happen to my granddaughter.

Emmie has been running a slight fever the past two days. I'm sure it's just a cold. We've had our share of cold days this winter and she's been a trooper trying to help Jack shovel around the house. I think they both must have overdone it.

I think I'll put on a chicken carcass to simmer tomorrow and make them both some homemade chicken soup. All they need is a little love and care. I can't take Emmie to the doctor
—
we don't have any of her legal information. Jack sent Mary a letter last week requesting it. He mentioned bringing a lawyer in to help us get legal custody, and says we'll need it for when she goes into school. And we're not even sure if she's had her needles yet.

There are days I don't understand that daughter of mine.

It's as if she'd dropped off the face of the earth and couldn't care less that she has a daughter we're raising for her.

It scares me. What if something happens to both Jack and me? Who will then take care of Emmie? What will happen to her?

January 29

There are some days I want to strangle the man snoring beside me. The older he gets
,
the more stubborn
,
and there's some days I just can't handle it.

It's very rare that we fight but today was one of those days when everything and anything he said or did set me off.

It wouldn't hurt him to put his dirty tea cup in the sink, would it? Does he have to leave it on the table where ring marks are made?

Does he need to leave his snowy boots on my floor so that I'm the one stepping in puddles all the time?

We have a mitt rack over the register to help dry all Emmie's wet outdoor mitts, hats and scarves. So why does he allow her to drop them on the floor and leave them there?

We're too old to fight like newlyweds but it happens. Today was just one of those days. I don't think being caught in the middle of a snowstorm helps. Jack is under my feet too much and there's not much I can do about it. He's been trying to keep up with the shovelling but he's an old man and I don't particularly look forward to finding him face first in the snow due to a heart attack. One of our neighbours will come and dig us out eventually. Until then...

I need to find my earplugs before I do or say something I'll regret.

My mama used to say God had to make men first
—
he knew we'd kill them if we'd been made first. I used to ask her why and she'd only shrug her shoulder. One time she whispered
“
God knew we really didn't need them and it wouldn't take long for us to figure that out.
”

Some days it's true.

Date Unknown

I have a box full of wool. My fingers aren't as nimble as they once were but there's nothing like the feel of knitting needles resting between my fingers.

Mary is going to need a few new hats to keep her head warm. She gets colds very easily. I should make her some mitts and a scarf as well. You never know when it'll snow again.

I need Jack to come home. I don't know where he is or if he's sick or well. I do know he's alive. He has to be. Mary and I need him.

I can't imagine what life will be like if Jack doesn't come home from the war. I hated watching him leave me. I knew something like this would happen and I've been scared ever since.

I don't show that to Mary though. She needs a strong mother. One who can get through anything. If my mother could raise all us kids and ensure we were healthy and strong just from her vegetable garden, then so can I. I will show my mother I am just as strong as her and I'll teach Mary to be the same.

Just like I've taught Emmie. Sweet sweet Emmie.

Thank you for reading Dottie
’
s deleted journal scenes from Emma
’
s Secret. I hope you enjoyed them!

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