Finding Emma (18 page)

Megan’s throat swelled as she struggled to contain herself.

“Megan? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to prod. I can only imagine the pain you and your family have gone through.” Josie patted her hand again.

Megan's shoulders sank as she looked at the older woman beside her. It felt like a fist took hold of Megan's lungs and was squeezing them tight. So tight, she couldn't breathe.

“My daughter disappeared, two years ago...” Megan lowered her head. The fist tightened. Her body shook, light tremors that travelled from her heart to her fingers.

“I'm so sorry, dear. Losing a child is hard. But somehow, God gives you the strength to live life. Somehow. It took me years to figure that out after one of my babies died. SIDS they call it now,” Josie shook her head. “But look at you -- you have a beautiful family. You’ll do just fine.” Josie patted Megan’s hand as the tight band around her heart diminished at Josie’s words. The fist that squeezed her lungs let go. She could breathe again.

“Well, it looks like my dear husband has his hands full. I should go help him. It was very nice to have met you. I will pray for your daughter.”

Megan smiled through her tears and grasped Josie’s hand. She wished there were words to describe how she felt. As if Josie was an angel in disguise. As Megan wiped away her tears, she heard a scream.

“Mom!”

Alexis bounded over to her. She never even noticed them getting off the ride.

“Did you get our pictures? Did you see me at the top? I wanted to rock the seat more, but Hannah was being a chicken and Dad told me to stop.” Alexis grabbed her drink off the bench and guzzled it down. She threw the empty cup into the trash beside them.

Peter walked over with Hannah, his arm around her shoulder as she tucked herself beside his body.

“I think this girl has had one too many rides,” Peter squeezed her shoulder and gave Megan a wink.

“Like mother, like daughter, maybe?” Megan bent down and looked Hannah in the eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I want to go home now.” Hannah's eyes were wide, her face pale.

“Can't we stay for just a little bit longer?” Alexis stuck the rest of her candy apple in her mouth.

Peter messed her hair. “I think we've done enough tonight chum. The fair is here for a few more days, we can always come back.”

“Who was that you were talking to?” Peter asked Megan.

“Just a sweet old woman,” Megan swiped at the remaining tears on her face and gathered the stuff on the bench together.

They walked the fairgrounds towards the entrance. Megan kept her eyes peeled for Josie, to perhaps receive one more motherly smile, but despite all the older couples she saw, none were Josie and her family.

It shocked Megan that she’d opened up to a complete stranger about Emma. But it felt good, like a balm to her wounded soul. She’d made a promise to Peter to not focus on Emma tonight, so she kept her secret of her confession herself. A tiny seed of guilt entered her heart on their drive home. As they passed farmers’ fields of corn, Megan scanned her memory. Just because she made a promise to not look for her daughter, didn’t mean she was blind. What if her daughter had been there? What if she’d missed her because she didn’t look?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The house was quiet.
The girls were at school and Peter had just left for work. He'd surprised her when he came on the run this morning with her. It was nice, though. It was something they used to do together before life caught up to them. Now, Peter tended to head to the gym during lunch or after work, while Megan continued to run in the early mornings.

After her shower and first cup of coffee, Megan took the camera into the study and opened up Peter's laptop. She typed in her password for her profile and waited for the programs to load. It had been so long since she last downloaded pictures off her camera, who knew what was on there. She should probably print some of them off and add to their photo albums at least.

Years ago, Laurie had tried to talk to her into scrap booking back when it was all the rage. She'd gone to a scrap booking party, made some neat cards and even laid out a page for a scrapbook she'd bought and then made the mistake of ordering too many stickers, paper and cutting supplies. She now had a large plastic container full of paper, stickers and other stuff that she never used.

As the photos downloaded, she caught snippets of them during the process. Alexis was so full of life, energetic, always a sparkle in her eye even though it took a lot of work to get a smile on her face. Hannah on the other hand always smiled. She had a sweet look to her. Reading a book, playing a game or drawing in her book, there was always a smile on her face.

Megan hit the delete button on the computer after the photos had downloaded. No sense cluttering up her memory card if she didn't need to. She went through the pictures, one by one. Alexis as she posed beside a clown, both with silly looks on their faces, Peter as he sneaked a piece of the girls’ cotton candy, and Hannah's tight grip on the bar of Ferris wheel.

There were about sixty pictures downloaded, forty of those from the fair. The other twenty were of days forgotten, first day of school, Alexis in her gei for Karate, Hannah as she posed with a cake she'd made on her own. Memories worth keeping, but forgotten as time went on. Some photos went immediately into the garbage bin. Like the one of her sitting out on the deck. Yeah, um, no.

She came across the last picture she'd taken the night before. Of Peter. They'd just walked in the door, the girls had gone to their rooms to place their hard won prizes on their shelves and Peter had grabbed her, pulled her in and kissed her soundly on the mouth. It wasn't a romantic type of kiss. But it was filled with something. Excitement, maybe.

The look in his eyes caught Megan's attention. Her heart skipped a beat. She'd held the camera in her hand, about to place it on the table in their entrance way. She brought it up, turned it on and snapped a picture of Peter just as his face was about to turn away from her.

“What was that for?” He had asked.

“Just cause.” Megan shrugged her shoulders and turned away, about to head into the kitchen when Peter grabbed her hand and stopped her.

“I'm proud of you. Megan, you were there, with us tonight, one hundred percent, and I'm so proud of you. I know how hard it must have been,” he pulled her close and enveloped her in his arms. Megan stiffened, for a split second, before she forced herself to relax. She dropped her shoulders, wrapped her arms around his and hugged him back.

Megan leaned back in the desk chair and placed her hand on the mouse. She clicked on pictures that she wanted to send to the local pharmacy to have developed. It was a one hour service, complete with a link on the computer. One in particular caught her eye.

It was the picture of Peter, Hannah and Alexis. The girls held their carnival prizes in their hands. The lights in the background sparkled. Megan loved this picture. She should place it in a frame and hang in on the wall in the hallway. Something in the background caught her eye. She enlarged the frame and moved in close to the computer screen.

Behind Hannah stood an older couple with a young girl. Red suspenders and a white dress stood out, prominent against the black background.

Megan couldn't quite make out the little girl. Her face was a blur. So she enlarged the picture, enhanced it by fifty percent. The image was still a tad bit hazy, but if she looked closely, Megan could make out the little girl's features. She looked so familiar.

Megan sat back in her chair. She closed her eyes, but the image of the little girl had already been imprinted on her mind. She'd seen her somewhere. Before the fair. Megan thought back to all the little girls she once thought were Emma and tried to remember if this little girl could have been one of them.

That's when it hit her.

Megan bolted out of the chair and pulled the drawer to the filing cabinet open. She ripped the file that contained the updated pictures of Emma out. When she found the picture, she stared at it.

With slow precision, Megan backed up until the back of her knees hit the desk chair. She sank down as if a heavy chain had dropped onto her shoulders. Her hand shook so hard that the picture she held onto wavered. Her heart stopped beating, her lungs refused to take in air.

Her daughter had been at the fair. Her daughter had stood mere yards from her and she didn’t even see her. She made a promise to her husband, she listened to him and agreed to put him first and she missed seeing her daughter. Emma.

If Megan hadn’t been seated in the chair already, she would have collapsed. Her daughter had been within arm’s reach, and all she had was a picture.

Megan studied the picture, memorized every detail of her daughter’s face. She didn’t look like a boy, nor did she look lifeless, abused. She looked happy. A smile was on her face.

Her daughter. Emma. So close and yet so far away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Megan burst through the front doors of Peter's office.
The moment her heart started to beat again, she knew she had to print off the picture and show it to Peter. Otherwise, he wouldn't believe her. Not this time. Not when it really mattered.

“Megan, how are you?”

Dana, the petite receptionist at Peter's real estate company smiled at her. Her French manicured fingers were poised over top of her keyboard, held in suspended animation as Megan walked in.

“Is Peter in his office?”

Dana's eyes widened as Megan walked past her and grabbed onto the handle of the frosted glass door. She swiveled in her chair and reached her hand out.

Like that was going to stop her.

“Megan, Peter told me he didn't want to be disturbed. He's in a meeting,” Dana's smile could have been labeled with a capital F. For Fake. She shrugged her dainty little shoulder, as if to say 'what can I do?'

“Is he with a client?” The picture of Emma fluttered in Megan's fingers. She stilled her arm. The shock of seeing her daughter turned into anger at being kept from her husband.

“Well, no. Not exactly,” Dana fidgeted with a pen in her hands. She wouldn't look Megan in the eye.

Megan sighed. Her hand dropped from the door handle.

“Is he with her?” She refused to say her name. Refused.

Dana's perfectly waxed eyebrows zigzagged on her face, her petite little button nose turned up as her lips pursed.

“Her?”

Megan closed her eyes. Seriously. As if she didn't know who. The only other person who worked in the office other than Peter. His business partner. HER.

“Yes, they are on a, um, conference call.” Dana glanced at the phone.

So did Megan. The sophisticated phone system that cost thousands to install, that could do anything and everything you'd ever want a phone to do. The same phone that should have been lit up if there were an actual conference call.

“So I see.”

Megan pulled the door open and stormed down the hallway. There were three offices in the back, along with a sitting room, which Megan helped to design when Peter first opened his own real estate company. The doors to two of the offices were wide open. One was not - Peter's.

Megan's flip-flops thudded against the thick Berber carpet as she made her way to Peter's door. She hesitated. Should she knock, or just barge in. What if they were on a conference call? But what if they weren't? She closed her eyes, grabbed hold of the handle and opened it. With force. And then opened her eyes.

She should have kept them shut.

Peter sat at this desk. But he wasn't looking at the computer. He wasn't on the phone or even writing notes down on a piece of paper. Instead, his eyes were looking up, into the face of the only woman Megan would ever admit that she hated. With a passion.

Samantha. She was everything Megan was not. Tall, with the body of a model, she stood at Peter's desk, but her body was bent as she scribbled something down in a notebook. Her wavy blond hair cascaded across her shoulders until it lightly touched Peter's arm. She wore a grey pencil skirt with a black silk blouse that was open at the neck offering a clear view of her eye candy.

Are. You. Kidding. Me?

As Megan entered the office, Samantha straightened with slow precision. By her height, Megan guessed she must be wearing her stilettos. If ever a woman deserved to live the life of a city woman, it was Samantha. Too bad she was stuck in a small town.

“Megan, what a nice surprise. Peter didn't mention you would be coming in today.” Samantha placed her hand briefly on Peter's shoulder before she stepped back. Her voice purred with a familiar satisfaction.

Anger boiled within Megan as she forced a smile on her face.

“Am I interrupting?” She focused her gaze on Peter. His face went two shades of red as he fumbled with the papers on his desk.

“Well, actually --” Samantha leaned against the edge of the desk.

“No, absolutely not.” Peter interrupted. He pushed his chair back and stood.

Megan stepped aside as Samantha breezed past her. She couldn't help but notice the sway of her hips. Megan refused to look her in the eye. It took all her strength just to keep her mouth shut.

Peter closed the door behind Samantha and faced Megan. She didn't say anything. Her mind swirled with unspoken questions, but Peter would need to be a mind reader today.

“Megan, it wasn't what it looked like. We just finished up a conference call and were going through the notes. I have a client wanting to move here ...” He stared at her, a puppy dog expression on his face. Megan wasn't moved.

The silence in the room stretched thin. Peter's shoulders flopped as he walked back to his chair.

“I don't care,” Megan whispered in the silence.

She looked down at the photo in her hands. She was afraid to show him. All her steam had fizzled away. What if it were just her imagination? What if it was just a little girl at the fair with her grandparents?

She held the picture up and placed it on the desk. Peter stared at it. The worry lines on his forehead indented as he looked from Megan to the picture.

“Who do you see in the picture?”

Peter pulled the photo closer to him and picked it up with both hands.

“What am I supposed to see, Meg? Other than the girls and myself?”

Megan bit her lip. She really hoped he would see it. See her. Their daughter.

“In the background, what do you see?” Megan leaned forward.

Peter laid the picture down, clasped his hands together and leaned back in his chair. The look he gave Megan spoke volumes. Disappointment. In her. A nervous panic fluttered in Megan's chest. He didn't see it. How could he not?

“Megan, I see a blurry reflection of two, maybe three people. Two adults and one child. What else am I supposed to see?”

Megan leaned forward and jabbed the picture with her finger.

“Our daughter, Peter. You are supposed to see our daughter. These people,” Megan pointed to the couple in the background, “have our daughter.”

She stared into her husband's eyes and wished with all her heart that he would see it. She needed him to make the connection.

“You see Emma?” Peter ran his fingers through his hair.

Megan stared at her husband. Was he serious?

“Yes, Peter. I see our daughter. How can you not?”

Peter stood up. Megan's gaze followed him as he walked around his desk and sat in the seat beside her. He reached for her hands.

“It's Emma.” Megan's voice caught as Peter rubbed her hands. She needed him to believe her. He had to believe her. She hated the look on his face, the sympathetic smile, the soft eyes. He didn't believe her.

“It's not Emma. I know you want it to be, but it's not.”

Megan wrenched her hands out from under his. She grabbed the picture off the desk.

“It is her. Peter, look,” she held the photo up, “it's our daughter. I know it!” Tears threatened to cascade down her cheeks.

Peter sighed. It was a deep sigh. She watched as his shoulders deflated and curved forward. The sliver of hope birthed in her heart when she realized it was her daughter, died.

Peter took the picture out of Megan's hand and laid it back on his desk. He placed one hand on her knee.

“Meg, honey, I know how much you want it to be Emma. I do. I wish it were her. But it's not. I’m not even sure who it is. You’ve blown it up so much that it’s all blurry. What if it’s a boy? What if it’s someone carrying a bag and not a little girl in a dress? Don’t jump to conclusions.”

Megan shook her head. Conclusions? A bag? How could he not see it? How could he not understand?

Peter leaned closer to her. His voice was velvety smooth as he spoke to her. As if she were a child he needed to comfort.

“Meg, please, would you trust me? Please? I think you need to talk to someone. I could call the counselor and make an appointment if you want?”

Megan shuddered. The tears that welled up in her eyes now overflowed and ran down her cheeks. She yanked her hand out from his and wiped at her cheeks.

“No, Peter. I won't go back to her. You know what will happen. I'm not going on medication.”

“Then what about the pastor's wife at church? We could start going back, and take the girls. It might be good for us.” Peter handed her a Kleenex.

“The only thing good for us would be to find Emma. I'm going to take this to the police Peter. I'll see if Detective Riley is in, give him the photo. He’ll be able to find her. Hanton is only a half hour away; he can contact the local police there. Our daughter is so close. I have to do this. Please don't stop me.” She wiped at her face.

Peter cast his eyes down. She didn't know what he thought. If he would agree.

“I'll call him,” Peter said, his voice low. He didn't raise his eyes.

“You?” Megan couldn't believe what she heard. She took a quick breath. Does this mean he believes me? Oh please God, let him believe me.

“I need closure. I can't keep doing this. I'll call him. But on one condition.” Peter raised his eyes. They pierced her own.

“I need you to promise that this will end. That if he looks at the photo and doesn’t think it’s her, then you'll stop. You'll stop looking for her in every face you see. That we can move on.” He rubbed his face.

Megan couldn't believe the difference one sentence could make. He looked older. More tired. A stranger. She almost hated him.

“Peter, we've already discussed this.”

“But you're not listening to me. I can't do this anymore Megan. If you can't promise me this, if you can't stop, then I can't continue.” He turned his face from her.

It felt like a load of bricks had fallen on Megan. She was crushed. He didn't mean that. He couldn't. He wouldn't walk away. Not from her. Not from his children.

“I would never walk away from our children,” Peter said. She must have spoken out loud.

Megan stood. No matter what she did, she lost something. If she agreed with Peter, then she was giving up on her daughter. If she didn't agree, then she was giving up on her marriage. No win situation. There was nothing she could do.

Even though Peter was willing to give up without a fight, she wouldn't. If it meant she was the only fighting, then so be it. She reached down for her purse that rested against her chair and hooked it over her shoulder.

“Call him, Peter. Just call him,” she said as she opened the door to his office. Samantha stood across the hallway in her office.

“Nothing else matters to me. Not right now.”