Finding Emma (4 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

“What took you so long?”
Laurie jogged on the spot at the entrance to the town park situated in the middle of down town where she and Megan met every morning. A strand of loose blond hair fell over her eyes. She blew it away and tapped her wristwatch.

Megan shrugged her shoulders and passed her friend. Victoria Park was half way between both their houses and right across from the lake. Most mornings she enjoyed the colorful display as the sun rose over the water, the reflection that danced amongst the waves as she ran through the park. Kinrich was known for its gorgeous sunrises. But today all she wanted was a hot cup of coffee. It had taken a couple nudges from Peter before she worked up the energy to get out of bed.

“Hey, wait up,” Laurie called out.

Megan shook her head. She needed to run today, to work off the steam that still boiled inside. Last night's emotional roller coaster carried over to today. Peter refused to say one word to her all night after he saw her holding the candle when they’d returned home. Their marriage hadn’t been the same since Emma’s disappearance. The gulf between them continued to spread until Megan didn’t know if there was a bridge long enough to mend the gap.

Megan glanced to her left. Laurie had caught up. They made it to the other side of the park in silence, but as they waited for the crosswalk light, Laurie passed her and stopped directly in her path. Her eyes shot daggers not even Megan could match on her worst days. A glare from Laurie was never a good thing. For one, it made Laurie's face bunch up into an ugly scowl, and if there were anything Laurie hated the most, it was to look ugly. For another, Laurie was honest to a fault. Sometimes too much. Megan wasn't sure if she really wanted to hear what her best friend was about to say.

“What's going on?” Megan shook her head and looked to the side.

“How did last night go?”

Megan pursed her lips. She wished the light would change so they could continue their run down to the beach. The thought of running on the sand, the exhaustion that would set in her muscles afterwards set her pulse racing. It was either that or the thought of rehashing last night’s events.

The illuminated walking man flashed white across the street. Megan sidestepped Laurie and ran across the road, turned right and passed the new coffee shop that just opened. The aroma of fresh ground beans wafted through the open window and followed Megan as she continued down the street.

The pound of Laurie's runners as she increased her pace pushed Megan faster. If she could out run Laurie, maybe she could ignore the emotional overload sure to follow once Laurie cornered her and demanded answers.

“Stop.”

Megan ignored Laurie's plea and continued her pace. The corner was just up ahead. Once she turned left, it was a straight line down to the beach.

“Megan, please, STOP!”

Megan glanced over her shoulder. Laurie leaned again a metal bench outside of a florist shop. Her arms were crossed against her chest and a frown had settled on her face. Megan stopped. She glanced towards the beach and then back at her friend. Not once, in the past year since Laurie began to run with her in the early mornings, had Megan left her friend to run alone.

“Sorry. I just--” Megan turned her back on the gentle calling of the beach sand and walked towards her best friend.

Laurie raised her hand.

“Don't apologize. I know yesterday wasn't the best of days for you. But don't shut me out, okay?”

Megan dropped her head and fixed her gaze on her running shoes. Laurie was right.

“You're right. I'm sorry.” She lifted her face and noticed the twinkle in her friend's eyes.

“I know. I usually am,” Laurie said.

A bell jingled over the coffee shop door as they passed by.

“I donated to the missing kids’ foundation yesterday. As a birthday gift to Emma,” Laurie said.

Tears filled Megan's eyes.

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

Megan squeezed Laurie's arm. She swallowed back the tears and did her best to ensure a smile was planted on her face.

“What would I do without you?”

As they stood at the crosswalk, waiting to cross the street and head back into the park, Laurie unwound her arm from Megan's and placed it around her waist.

“Thank God we’ll never find out.”

At the park, Megan enjoyed the silence. While she hadn't run like she wanted to, she did feel a lot better. Without Laurie, she'd be lost.

“You’re fine though, right? Nothing you want to share with me, your best friend that you haven’t told anyone else?”

Megan stared at Laurie in silence. You’ve got to be kidding me? Not her too.

“I’m fine. I’m not hiding anything from you or anyone else for that matter. Stop worrying, okay?”

*****

Megan fingered the card Laurie slipped into her hand earlier this morning as they said goodbye.

When life hands you lemons, choose chocolate. It always works. Love, Laurie.

By eleven in the morning, Megan couldn’t handle the silence in the house any longer. She grabbed the keys from off the counter and let them dangle in her hand. She toyed with the idea of dropping by Peter's office as a surprise. Maybe he'd have time to sneak away for an early lunch. With the summer holidays looming ahead and a summer full of kid activities, Megan's free time was almost up. She might as well take advantage of it.

As she pulled into the driveway, she admired the brownstone that Peter leased for his real estate company. Situated on a corner lot, it was considered a prime location. There were only three main roads leading into the small town of Kinrich. When the lease on the historic building on the corner of the main street had come up, Peter grabbed it. It was an investment, but they both agreed it was worth it.

The bell over the door jingled as Megan walked through.

“Hi, Mrs. Taylor.”

Dana, the petite receptionist greeted her. She sat at her desk, legs crossed, with a nail file in her hand. A young twenty-something, with an attention span that could be measured by the minute, Megan didn't understand why Peter kept her on staff.

“Dana, love the color of your nail polish.” Megan tempered the sarcasm in her voice. Not that it would matter.

“You do?” Dana's eyes widened with delight. She held her fingers out and admired her bright purple nails. “You know, purple is the new black. It's the must have color for the summer.” Dana smiled. The illuminated whiteness of her teeth shone. Megan winced. Too white.

“Is Peter in?”

“Oh,” Dana, flustered, glanced down at her appointment book, “no, he just left. Like, just left.” Her dainty little shoulder shrugged.

Surprised, Megan glanced out the front door. Peter's car sat out there. So where did he go?

“Oh, he went with Sam,” Dana said. A coy smile crept on her face.

Megan bit her lip. Her. He's out with her.

Samantha Grayson. Peter's beautiful business partner. Devil incarnate in a mini skirt. Samantha had started to work with Peter as a real-estate agent just after Emma had been born. Maybe it was the postpartum depression, or the fact the baby weight took its time to melt off, but the first time Megan laid eyes on the woman, she was labeled her.

Samantha was everything Megan was not. Tall, with the body of a model, her whole persona eluded with mystery. Everything a man could want, wrapped up in a package complete with stiletto heels and tight skirts.

“Do you know when he'll return?” Megan swallowed back the remark she wanted to say.

Dana shrugged her shoulders and continued to file her nails.

Megan bit her lip before she squared her shoulders and plastered the warmest smile she could fake on her face.

“Let him know I dropped by, will you?”

“Oh, of course. He's quite busy today though. His calendar is booked. There's a new client they're trying to land.” Dana twirled her chair until she faced the computer, her fake fingernails poised over the keyboard.

Megan grabbed onto the doorknob and squeezed it. She counted to three.

“Thank you, Dana,” Megan said through clenched teeth. The little brat.

She pulled open the door with too much force and the doorknob slipped out of her hand. As the door swung open, Peter walked in, his head down as he spoke on his cell phone.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you. Some days I wonder--” Peter stuttered when Megan grabbed onto his arm before he pushed her over. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, Sam.”

Megan watched her husband, the way he slid his phone in his pants, the slight redness that crept up from his neck to his cheeks. She turned her face away slightly as he placed an awkward kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“I didn’t expect you here,” he shuffled his feet in the entry way.

Megan shrugged. “I thought I’d see if you have time for coffee, or maybe an early lunch.” She readjusted the purse strap on her shoulder and waited. She wasn’t sure how to take what she’d just heard.

“I ah...I’m actually running late for a meeting. I forgot the contract...” He jiggled the briefcase in his hand as if she were to know the contract wasn’t in there.

Megan lifted her eyebrow and glanced behind him at Sam’s brand new hybrid.

Peter sneaked a look over his shoulder. “Oh, Sam stayed with the new client. You know, create a connection, land the deal. I need to get back there.”

Megan counted to three, smiled and stepped to the side. “Of course you do,” her cheeks hurt from keeping lips curved. “Maybe I’ll bake a cake to celebrate landing the contract.”

“Oh, but we don’t have it yet,” Peter glanced at his watch again.

This time she had no trouble keeping the smile on her face. “Knowing Sam, I have no doubt she’ll create a connection with your new client. She always does.”

She took a step forward, stood on her tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on Peter’s cheek. She read the surprise in his eyes.

Megan paused for a moment, a brief moment, before she walked out the front door to her Jeep. She didn't even glance up to see if Peter watched her. She knew he wasn’t.

Once upon a time, Megan had been considered an active partner with Peter in his business. When Emma had been born, they decided Megan would take a step back from the business for a short time and focus on their family. She'd never really stepped back in.

When Emma disappeared, they both put all their focus and energy into finding their daughter. So much so, that it became necessary for Samantha to step up and become a partner in their company. Not only physically, but financially as well.

Megan rued the day that became necessary. She didn't trust that woman. Not only did she steal Megan's place in the company, but Megan knew she was out to steal her husband as well.

CHAPTER SIX

The sun shone down on Jack’s bald head
and beads of sweat pooled together until tiny rivers flowed into the crevices of his neck. His eyes stung from the droplets as they hung from his eyelashes, while his fingernails were stained with the dark soil of his flowerbeds. Jack wiped his swollen hands on his old overalls.

Shielding his eyes from the bright glare, he smiled. His back ached from bending over for such a long time, his fingers swollen at each joint, and his knees cracked whenever he straightened them, but it was all worth it. The perfect June day to work in his garden.

“Emmie, sweetheart, can you get grandpa another glass of water?”

Emmie, only five years old, heaved a huge sigh as she stood from her spot on the porch. Her long braided blond hair, swung back and forth, as she moved. She wore a dress that barely reached her knees. Dottie should take her shopping. Emmie loved her dresses; nothing else would suit her.

“Okay, Papa,” she said in her sing-song voice.

She skipped across the porch to open the screen door. He waited for the slam of the door against the old wood frame. When it came, he winced. Hopefully Dottie slept through all the commotion sure to ensue with Emmie in the house. He should have gone in himself.

Jack walked along the stone pathway he’d created years ago. Cracked and chipped in too many places to count, he used to worry Emmie would fall and hurt herself when she first came to live with them. He counted each step until they ended at the stairs. One of the steps sagged. Another thing that needed fixin’. He looked up at the place he called home.

An old-fashioned farmhouse, out on a countryside road, its yellow paint faded over the years and white-washed wooden shutters. The years had taken their toll on the old house. It seemed like just yesterday he'd picked the yellow paint at the store. But that was years ago, back when he came home from the war. Add paint to the list.

He stopped as he came to the steps leading up to the deck. Emmie's puppy lay in his path.

“All right Daisy, up and at 'em.”

Jack used the handrail to hoist himself up each step. It hurt to lift his leg high over the mess Emmie left on the floor, but he did so with a grunt, and then sat in one of the white wicker chairs that graced the wraparound porch. The screen door opened and Emmie held a glass of water in her hands.

“Got it, Papa. I was quiet too.” A wide smile spread across her face as she handed him the glass.

Jack drank the water in one gulp and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

“Thanks, sweetheart. Is Grandma still sleeping?”

“Yep.” Emmie twirled across the porch and plopped down next to her crayons and papers. “See my picture I made? It's you in your garden.” Emmie waved the paper with one hand. “And there's Daisy sleeping on the grass. She sleeps a lot. Like my flowers, Papa?”

Emmie stretch out as far as she could and handed the paper to Jack. With the appropriate noises, he marveled at her picture. She drew him as a skinny stickman, which suited him just fine. In the middle of his body, she drew a large red heart.

“Do you like my flowers, Emmie?” Jack leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. Some days he wished he were twenty years younger.

“Can I go smell them?”

Jack opened one eye. As soon as Emmie saw his smile, her face lit up and she skipped her way down the porch stairs. With his eyes closed, Jack waited. Emmie loved flowers. Hopefully she'd find the weeds he’d overlooked.

“Papa.”

“Emmie.”

“Can Daisy eat your flower?” Emmie's sweet voice called out.

“DAISY!”

If that dog messed with my flowers ...

The patter of Daisy's nails against the pathway rang out as she ran towards him. Before he could sit up, the bundle of energy jumped into his lap and licked his face. Squeals of laughter rang out as Emmie ran up the porch steps to join in the fun.

He swooped his granddaughter into his lap, tilted his head down and gave her a whisker rub. Emmie only laughed, reached up and with her two small hands, and pulled his head forward to give him a nose kiss.

“Whatcha thinkin', Papa?”

Jack cuddled her close and rested his head on top of hers. Her hair smelled like strawberries.

“I'm thinking a nap would be good. You were pretty quiet earlier, Princess. What were you thinking?”

Emmie twisted herself on his lap until she was in a more comfortable position. Her elbow jammed him in the ribs a few times while she squirmed. She rested her head against his chest and began to sing to herself in a quiet voice.

“Emmie?”

“I miss Mommy.” A slurping, sucking noise met Jack's ear. She must be sucking her thumb again. “When is she coming? Why doesn't she come and get me?”

Jack tightened his arms around her.

“Tell you what, Princess. How about you and me go have a tea party?” What he wanted to do was have a nap, but he couldn't stand to see his little girl so sad. Her mom was never going to come and get her.

“Can I draw her a picture?” Emmie looked up at him with a sad look in her eyes.

The last thing he wanted to do was break her heart.

“Of course you can, sweetie. You draw such nice pictures. Can you make me one too?”

Emmie climbed off his lap, scooped up Daisy and headed into the house. Jack thought about all the other pictures Emmie had drawn for her mom.

Pictures all stored in a drawer, hidden away from Emmie so she’d never know they were never sent.

*****

If there was one place Jack felt less at home within his own home, it was in Emmie's room. Dottie worked her miracle when Emmie came to stay with them, transforming the attic into a dream room fit for any princess.

The once spider web-inhabited attic was now a soft pink, stuffed animal-filled room. Emmie's bed sat in the middle of the room, a long white laced curtain suspended by wire along the posts of her bed. Dottie found shag carpet to keep Emmie's toes warm in the mornings.

To the right of Emmie's bed sat an old comfy chair Jack lugged up the stairs. At nights, either he or Dottie would sit in that chair, Emmie cuddled on their lap where they would read her a story until she fell asleep. On the other side of her bed sat a wooden table with tiny chairs Jack originally built for Emmie's mom when she was a little girl.

Squished into one of the chairs, Jack sat with an assortment of dolls. Emmie told him their names but a doll was a doll to him. Daisy sat at Emmie's feet, waiting for morsels of food to find their way out of Emmie's hands into her mouth. Jack's knees banged against the table each time he squirmed in his chair, forcing droplets of tea to spill from their cups onto the plates.

“Papa, your crown is falling off.”

Jack’s bald head didn't fit the crown very well and it often slipped off.

“This isn't my crown; it's too small. Who made this?” Jack grumbled as he readjusted the paper crown so it would sit on his head.

A giggle erupted out of his granddaughter's little body as she covered her rosebud mouth with her fingers.

“Silly, Papa, you did.”

Jack erupted in a playful growl, which produced more laughter from Emmie. He struggled to keep a smile off his face, focusing on the stuffed animals seated on the other chairs and pretending to tickle them. Daisy joined in the fun, her barks sounding like yaps, which made Emmie fall over with laughter. Daisy jumped on her when she hit the floor.

“Papa, help!” Emmie said as her body doubled over.

Jack loved to hear her laughter. When she first arrived, holding on to Dottie's hand, she was such a quiet little girl. Jack never thought Emmie would be able to deal with losing her mom like she did. To have her smile and giggle meant the world to Jack.

“What’s going on in here?” A furious voice filled the room.

The room got quiet. Daisy was hunkered on the floor, her head hidden beneath her two paws. Emmie stood, her head hung low. Jack turned and couldn't believe his eyes.

*****

“I said, what’s going on?”

Dottie stood in the doorway with a fierce frown on her face. It took all her effort to keep the scowl in place. She cracked a smile when Jack winked at her, but wiped it off her face before Emmie noticed. She hunched her shoulders, kept her hands locked on her hips and took long and heavy steps towards her granddaughter. She wondered how long it would take Emmie to keep from laughing.

Bending down, she moved her face in close to Emmie's. Just as her nose was about to touch Emmie's forehead, her granddaughter giggled, lifted her arms and almost pulled Dottie to the ground with a bear hug. Not long at all.

“Grandma!”

“Can’t a woman get any peace and quiet around here? You woke me up with all your laughter.” Dottie smoothed the wisps of hair around Emmie's forehead.

“We're having a tea party. See?” Emmie swept her arms around, twirling as Dottie looked on.

“I see. I also see Daisy eating cookie crumbs off the table. Emmie, you know we don't want Daisy doing that.”

A pout appeared on Emmie's face.

“Oh no you don't, little girl. Come on, I think Daisy needs to go outside.” Dottie reached for Emmie's hand as Jack picked up Daisy and they headed to the kitchen.

Dottie puttered around in her kitchen while Jack headed outside with the dog. Emmie reached into the basket Dottie kept on the table full of crayons, books, play dough and some doll furniture for Emmie to play with. She watched as Emmie brought out the doll furniture and two dolls.

“Emmie, do you want to help me make scones?” Dottie pulled her apron off a hook on the wall and wrapped it around her body.

“Grandma, we already made scones. This morning,” said Emmie. She never lifted her head, intent on her dolls and arranging the furniture on the table.

Dottie looked at her kitchen cupboard. Her glass platter, which contained her scones, muffins and buns stood empty. Dottie rubbed her forehead. She didn't remember baking today. A headache hit her mid-morning so she went to lie down.

“Emmie, we haven’t baked anything today. But we did make muffins yesterday, honey, remember?” Dottie pulled out her large mixing bowl and opened her pantry to retrieve the flour and sugar.

“No, Grandma, Daisy made me drop the flour and it made a mess all over the floor. 'Member?” Emmie cocked her head as she looked up.

Dottie turned away and looked out the window over her sink. She didn't remember that. All she remembered was the headache. Those horrible headaches she'd been getting all too often.

Jack walked into the house and poured himself a glass of water. She looked up into the face she'd loved for years. She’d memorized the wrinkles long ago, knew when each one appeared and the reason behind them. She loved his bald head, always did. This was her soul mate, her life mate.

“Emmie says we made scones today?”

A tender smile filled Jack's face. She saw the sadness in his eyes, and knew her memory betrayed her once again.

“You did, sweetheart. Emmie was helping you clean up the flour when you were hit with one of your headaches. I told you to lie down. It's my fault. I didn't realize the scones were in the oven and they burnt. I had to throw them out.”

Exhaustion filled Dottie's soul. Some days were harder to get through than others. With Emmie with her every day, it was hard to pretend all was well.

“Well Princess, why don't we go take Daisy outside and tucker her out. I think Grandma here needs a hot cup of tea. You go grab her ball and we'll see if we can teach her how to fetch,” Jack said. When he leaned down to kiss Dottie on the cheek, she raised her hand, stroking the stubble on his chin.

“Thank you.”

Dottie waited until the screen door slammed behind Jack and Emmie. She headed over to the kitchen table, cleaned up Emmie's mess of toys and sank down in the seat, only to jump up when the teakettle whistled. She poured the water into the teapot. Her knitting lay in the rocking chair in the front room and she veered toward it. She gathered up the jumper she was kitting for Emmie and wound the wool around her fingers. Knit one, pearl two.

The tea and her family forgotten.