Finding Emma (20 page)

“I'm so sorry, Jack. I'm so sorry.”

*****

Jack stood in the doorway and watched his granddaughter. His heart swelled, with love, heartache and a sadness he couldn't understand. He wasn't a stranger to death, in the war it became a constant companion. But not like this. This, he wouldn't wish on his best friend.

Emmie was hunched over her little table. She'd placed her stuffed animals all around her in a circle. Jack couldn't see what she was doing, but he imagined she was coloring a picture.

Jack coughed and Emmie looked up. A sad smile settled on her face.

“Hey, Princess,” Jack said. His voice croaked out the words.

“Hi,” Emmie said. She bent her head again, focused on whatever she was doing.

“Can I sit down?” Jack took a step into the room. He wasn't sure what to expect. He had just left Dottie in their room after he managed to get her to lay down for a bit. He just hoped that it would help her to calm down.

Emmie moved a stuffed animal off the chair that sat beside her. She didn't say anything. He peered over the animals to see what she was doing. A piece of paper lay before her. On it, she had colored a large castle that sat on a sparkling white cloud.

Emmie watched him as he took in her picture. When he glanced up, he noticed there were unshed tears in her eyes. He swiped at his face, erasing any evidence of his own tears.

“It is okay, Papa. I'm just a little sad,” Emmie's quiet voice soothed the ache in his heart.

He didn't understand this gift God presented to him. He came upstairs to help comfort his granddaughter, not for her to comfort him.

“I'm sad too.” Jack admitted. More sad than he would ever have imagined.

“Do you like my picture, Papa?” Emmie's hand hovered over the picture, a pink crayon cradled in her fingers.

“It's very beautiful. I think that's the best castle I've seen yet.”

“It's Mommy's castle in heaven. She loves flowers, so I made sure I drew lots. And here's the swing, Papa, just like the one you made when she was a little girl. Grandma told me how much she used to like to swing in it.” Emmie drew another flower beside the castle.

Jack couldn't answer. He didn't know what to say.

The silence in the room reigned supreme. A whisper of a breeze fluttered through the room along with the soft chirps of the robin nestled in the tree outside of Emmie's room.

“Papa?” Emmie's voice broke through the quiet.

“Yes, Princess?”

“Are my sisters with her?” Emmie's brow furrowed together.

The question shocked Jack. This wasn't the first time Emmie had brought up these imagined sisters. He didn't know how to answer her.

“What sisters, Emmie?”

“
My sisters. Grandma doesn’t like me to talk about them. She said that it’s foolish talk. Does she not like me talking about them 'cause they are in heaven with Mommy and Daddy?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

If we had paid as little attention
to our plants as we do our children, we would be amazed at the jungle we found ourselves in.

It was a saying Dottie's mother loved to repeat while she shadowed her children in the garden. Dottie muttered it to herself now as she crouched amongst the rows in her garden and plucked at the tiny sprouts that grew beneath the plants.

She poked her head above the plants and checked on Emmie. She couldn't help but smile. Emmie threw a stick and tried to get Daisy to chase it, but no matter how hard she tried, that little dog was determined not to learn to fetch. Dottie chuckled. At least it kept the girl occupied.

She bent back down and reached for another bundle of weeds, when she heard a pop. She'd reached too far, and her back cracked. With a groan, Dottie struggled to stand. A sharp pressure built up on the one side of her back. She twisted to the side in an attempt to crack her back again. It took a few minutes, but the moment she heard another pop, the pressure released. She sighed. Old age wasn't all it was cut out to be. Retirement wasn't as relaxing as she thought it would be either.

As she stood up, she noticed Emmie wasn't where she had played a few minutes ago. Dottie took a deep breath, but it was difficult. Emmie had to be around, she couldn't have gone far. She wouldn't lose her too. As she stepped over her plants to reach the far side of the garden, Emmie's giggle, along with Daisy's bark, sounded to her right. With a hand raised over her eyes, she searched the hill that led to the neighbors’ house. I should have known.

Emmie stood at the fence while Daisy jumped around.

“Emmie,” Dottie called. She knew she scowled, but the girl knew better than just to take off.

“Over here, Grandma.” Emmie waved her hand.

Dottie took a few steps towards the hill. Her knees creaked. Even though it was only a small incline, she didn't think her knees could make it up. She stopped at the bottom of the hill, and was just about to call her granddaughter to her side when Sherri, the neighbor, came to the fence. She waved. Dottie waved back. It was the polite thing to do, after all.

“Can Emmie play with the girls?” Sherri shouted down to her.

Dottie closed her eyes. A sudden wave of dizziness hit her. She wobbled on her feet. Jack, where was Jack? She looked behind her, but the truck was gone. Where was he?

“Grandma?”

Dottie's eyes widened. Emmie. Where was she? Her head whipped back and forth, but she couldn't see her.

“Grandma!”

Dottie glanced down. There she was, at her feet. She closed her eyes as another burst of dizziness sent the world spinning around her.

“Can I go play, please?” Emmie pulled at her hand.

Dottie made an effort to listen to her. Play? Play where? She looked up and noticed her neighbor waving at her. Dottie waved back and then dropped her hand. She'd already done that, didn't she?

Dottie nodded her head. All Dottie wanted to do was sit down in her chair and close her eyes. Maybe then the world would stop spinning. Emmie let go of her hand and ran off. Dottie watched as Sherri walked to the gate on her side of the yard and took Emmie's hand.

“Thanks!” Sherri called down.

Dottie brought her hand up to her waist and gave a half-hearted wave. She took a step forward and the gravel driveway pitched to the left. Her arms went out, for balance. She brought her foot back down and waited for everything to go back to normal.

A wave of dust appeared on the road out front. With the dry weather and lack of rain, their country dirt road was dry. Whenever a car drove down their side road, a trail of dust announced its presence way before you actually saw the vehicle.

Dottie hoped it was Jack. She needed Jack. He’d run down to a neighbors’ house down the way for a tool he needed. But he’d been gone too long.

Dottie crossed her arms as she waited to see if it were Jack’s truck. She shielded her eyes with her hand when the vehicle approached. But it wasn’t Jack’s truck. It was a dark car. It slowed as it neared her house.

A nervous flutter overtook Dottie’s stomach. She stepped backwards. Something about the car ... didn’t police cars look like that?

She felt a moment of fear. As the car slowed to a crawl, Dottie knew that something was wrong, very wrong. Her nostrils flared as she fought the panic that threatened to overtake her. She could feel it bubbling up. Her hands shook first, then her arms.

“No, no ...” Dottie said as she turned and hurried towards the house.

She didn’t understand this sudden flight of panic. All she knew was that she needed Jack. The vehicle on the road stopped in front of Dottie’s driveway. Dottie edged away, so that if whoever was in the vehicle were to look, they wouldn’t see her.

She turned her back and was hit with a pain so fierce in her head that she stumbled over the gravel under her foot. She held her arms out for balance and realized she was seeing double. She glanced back to the road. The car had moved on, still slow, but now at her neighbor’s driveway. Maybe they were looking at the mailboxes. She should tell Jack. He would know what was going on.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Dottie managed to move her shaky limbs into the house.
She grabbed hold of a kitchen chair and sank her weary body down. When she closed her eyes, things stayed still.

She took a few deep breathes to calm herself. She didn't understand why she was so dizzy. If everything would just stay still, in one spot, she would be okay. She had too much to do today. With that thought in mind, Dottie rose from her seat and glanced around her kitchen. There was something she was supposed to do.

A bowl sat on the kitchen counter with a tea cloth over top. Dottie stared at it for a few moments before she remembered that she had left the bread dough to rise earlier. She took a few tentative steps to the counter, unsure if she would get dizzy from the movement or not. She felt odd. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she'd never felt like this before.

Dazed, Dottie repeated a process she knew by heart. She placed the dough on the counter and worked the air out of it. She didn't pay attention to the rhythmic motion; instead, she glanced around her kitchen. Something was wrong. Something was missing. Emmie. Emmie was missing.

A squeal of laughter sounded outside. It was Emmie. Dottie’s heart pounded. Where was Emmie? She searched her yard through the window and remembered that Emmie was with the neighbor. A wave of relief flowed through Dottie as the initial panic wore off. Emmie was okay. Emmie was okay. All that mattered to Dottie was Emmie.

Dottie's fists crushed the dough, over and over. Tears drift down her face. Her hands start to hurt from the repeated motion, but she couldn't stop. She tried to stop, to step away, but it felt like something had taken over her body and controlled it. A sharp pain pierced through her head. She cried out in anguish and crumpled to the ground. She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't work now.

*****

Jack pulled into the driveway, parked the truck off to the side and looked around the yard. All was quiet. Dottie must be inside with Emmie and the dog. Jack picked up the treat he'd picked up in town and headed towards the house. He hoped the little cupcakes he found at the downtown bakery put a smile on Emmie's face.

When he entered the house, he heard a low mumble type sound. The radio must be on.

“Dottie?” he called out.

The low mumble continued. He dropped the bakery box on the table, along with his keys and walked into the front room. It was empty. He stood at the front door and opened the heavy wooden door. A nice breeze whisked through the house. Why hadn’t Dottie opened this earlier? She always did.

He headed back towards the kitchen. Maybe she decided to have a nap while Emmie either did the same or played in her room. He walked around the corner into the kitchen and was about to head up the stairs when he heard his name.

“Jack.”

He turned. Dottie lay on the floor, almost in a fetal position, with her head angled to the side. Her legs were curled up underneath her while her one arm was tucked under body.

He rushed over and pulled her into his arms.

“Dottie!”

The weight of her body as she lay in his arms shocked him. Dead weight. Yet, she was alive, breathing fine. Her eyes were glazed over and her mouth was slack on the right side. Stroke. Dottie was having a stroke. With a gentleness normally reserved for babies, Jack laid her back on the ground and searched the kitchen for the cordless phone.

“Emmie?” Jack called out while he searched for the phone.

It was over on the desk. He rushed to grab it and dialed 911 as he literally ran back to where Dottie lay on the ground. Her eyes shot him a desperate look. His heart wrenched while the love of his life lay there helpless.

Assured that the ambulance was on its way, he cradled Dottie in his arms and shouted for Emmie again. She must be sleeping. Please God, don't let her come down here. Not yet.

“Jack … dust … up,” Dottie whispered. Her voice was agitated. She mumbled words he couldn't understand, words that didn’t make sense.

“Shh, sweetheart. It's okay. Shh.”

Jack struggled to keep his composure as he comforted his wife. The drive from town to their house took about twelve minutes. He hoped the ambulance could make it in five. He'd never been so scared before. Nothing compared to this. Nothing.

Dottie struggled to move. He swept her arm from beneath her waist and Dottie sighed. It must have been hurting her. Why didn't he notice it earlier? He kept an eye on his watch while he continued to try to soothe Dottie. She moaned and mumbled, her words were no longer distinguishable. It scared him. Slight tremors would travel along her body, from her legs up to her head. The moment she began to shake, he'd tighten his hold on her. The sweat that beaded on his forehead trickled down.

Through the windows, Jack heard the sirens of the ambulance as they approached. He breathed a quick prayer of thanks for their swiftness. He wiped Dottie’s drool and rocked her back and forth. A sense of dread hung over him. He was at a loss of what to do.

When the ambulance arrived, Jack felt like he was stuck in a nightmare. He took his arms from around his wife and stood to the side and watched helplessly as the medics took care of his wife better than he could. He didn't take his eyes off of Dottie. Her pale complexion worried him. Please don't let her die, God please, I'll do anything.

He was startled out of his prayer by one of the paramedics.

“Sir, is your wife on any type of medication?” The man waited with pen in hand as Jack forced his eyes to leave his wife's frail body.

“Um, yes. Namenda, Zyprexa and Aricept. Sometimes she'll take ...”

Jack searched his memory for the name of the sedative their doctor prescribed. He only gave it to Dottie when she was really agitated. He didn't like its affects, how it changed her. He turned and opened the upper cupboard where he kept her medication. Where Emmie couldn't reach. He searched the pill bottles until he found the one he wanted, at the very back. He looked at the label ... Ativan ... and handed it to the medic.

“Sir, we'll have to ask you to follow us to the hospital, is that alright?”

Jack nodded his head. He needed to grab Emmie first and explain what happened. Then he'd need to pack some items for Dottie. She wouldn't appreciate waking up in the thin hospital gown and she'd need her slippers. Maybe even her knitting.

As the medics loaded Dottie in the ambulance, Jack crumbled. He grabbed onto the table for support before he stood up straight, squared his shoulders and gave himself a stern talking to. His family needed him to be strong. If he fell apart now, he'd be ashamed of himself forever.

About to head up the stairs to find Emmie, Jack stopped when a knock sounded at the door.

“Jack, is everything okay? I wanted to wait until the ambulance left until I came over, I didn't want Emmie to see and get worried.” Sherri wrung her hands as she stood there.

“Emmie's with you?”

Shocked that she wasn't up in her room like he'd thought, it took a moment before he realized that if she was at the neighbors, then Dottie must have known. Maybe that's what she was trying to tell him.

“Jack is everything okay? What happened to Dottie?” Sherri's voice shattered the confusion that reigned in Jack's mind.

He opened the door for her to come in, while he pulled out the desk drawer to find Dottie's medical information. The last time he looked in the drawer for Mary's phone number, he remembered seeing a clear plastic bag that held all the information they received from the doctor they last time they visited.

“She had a stroke. I think. I need get a bag made up for her. And Emmie. I need to get Emmie.”

In a rush, Jack pulled the desk drawer out instead of pushing in it, and everything fell to the floor. Sherri bent down to gather up all the loose papers, pens and keys that emptied onto the floor while Jack stood there and watched. The drawer reminded him of something. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but he knew it was something best left forgotten.

“Jack, let Emmie stay the night with me. She can have a sleepover with my daughter. The girls will love it. All she'll need is a nightgown and her favorite stuffed animal. Okay?”

Jack didn't know what to say. A neighbor in the disguise of an angel. Right when he needed a miracle, one knocked on his back door. Too shocked to reply, he grunted before heading upstairs, not only to pack essentials for Dottie at the hospital, but also for Emmie. She'd want her pink lion.

A thought trickled through his head as he stuffed everything into a bag. What if the neighbor wasn't the angel she appeared to be? What if, having Emmie over at her house is what caused Dottie's stroke? The worry, the stress of not having her granddaughter near could have put Dottie over the edge. Dottie's fear at losing Emmie had grown stronger the past few days.