Finding Emma (5 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Help!”

Sherri jumped up. In her haste, she jarred the patio table and her glass of water spilled, soaking into the open magazine. She picked it up and fanned it as she scanned the yard. With so many voices screaming, she wasn't sure which child the cry came from. She jammed her feet into her flip-flops and headed out across her yard.

“Help me! Somebody help me!”

Sherri raced past the group of children playing in the sandbox and headed down the gentle slope in her yard, beyond her pathetic vegetable garden, and stopped in her tracks. She shielded her eyes with her hand against the bright glare of the sun and frowned.

In Sherri's acreage, a small hill sat off to the side. The children in her daycare liked to play at the foot of the hill. From their height, three feet and under, they didn't think they could be seen. Little did they know that Sherri, who stood over five feet in height, could see them fine.

“David Jackson, what do you think you're doing? Get off of Travis this minute!”

“We just playin', Sherri,” David scrambled up and dusted off the grass from the knees of his jeans. Even from this distance, Sherri could see the stains. Great, his mother was going to flip. Again. Travis stayed seated, his face pale as he struggled to take a deep gulp of air.

“Travis, do you need your puffer?”

Travis raised his hand, his puffer clutched tight in his fist. He inserted the tube into his mouth and Sherri watched until she knew he was okay.

She headed back towards the patio and mentally counted heads as she passed by each group of children. Five, six, seven ... seven ... who am I missing? She looked over at the sandbox, the play set and the group of girls coloring pictures at the picnic table.

Sherri stopped at the swing set. A child with a pixie haircut pumped her legs back and forth.

“Tonya, where is your sister? Where is Sarah?”

“S'over there,” Tonya pointed to Sherri's side fence. “Can you push me?”

Relieved, the tightness in Sherri’s chest disappeared. Thank God, Sarah was okay. Over towards the fence, Sarah sat close to the wood boards, her legs crossed as she twirled a dandelion in between her fingers. Eight. Sherri closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Of all the children to lose sight of . . .

“Sure can, hon.” She pushed to Tonya's back and watched the child throw herself backwards on the swing before she pumped her legs out and swung higher than before.

Sherri meandered over to the fence. The day was filled with laughter, excited chatter and a gentle wind that carried the children's voices. She soaked in the sun, her face tilted to the sky as she enjoyed the feel of new grass tickling her toes while she crossed the yard. Sarah sat at the fence and when she saw Sherri, her face beamed. Sherri couldn't help but smile back.

“Hey, Sarah, why are you over here by yourself?” Sherri sank into the grass and crossed her legs. She picked up a discarded dandelion and tickled Sarah's chin with it. Sarah leaned forward and tried to tickle Sherri's chin, but her arm wouldn't cross the distance.

“No alone,” Sarah said as she stuck a finger into the space between two fence boards. Sherri leaned to the side, the silhouette of a little figure showed through the space between the boards.

“Well, hello there.”

“S'my friend,” Sarah said. Her wide and slanted eyes sparkled as she slurred the words together. Of all the children Sherri took care of, Sarah held a special space in her heart. Only three years old, Sarah had Down's syndrome.

A soft “hi” was whispered through the boards. Sherri leaned closer. A little girl was on the other side of the fence. So Sarah has a new friend then. Sherri stood and leaned over the fence. The little girl looked up at her and gave a shy smile.

“See?” Sarah said. “My friend.”

“I see,” Sherri smiled. “Nice to meet you, Sarah's friend. I'm Sherri.”

Sherri looked across the yard and waved as her elderly neighbor stood in her garden and frowned. Uh oh. Sherri waved again, hoping to come across as friendly as the woman walked towards the fence. A nervous flutter took root in her stomach. She'd been meaning to walk over and introduce herself to the neighbors.

“Emmie, come here, honey.”

Sherri glanced up. The little girl, Emmie, uncurled her legs and stood, dandelions clutched in her hand that she held out to her Grandma. The woman kneeled down once she reached the girl, clutched her close and whispered into her ear.

“Hi there, I'm Sherri. I've meant to come over and introduce myself since we moved in, but the days just aren't long enough.” Sherri took a step closer to the fence and stuck out her hand. She waited for her neighbor to move towards the fence, take her hand and greet her.

The woman grabbed Emmie's hand and pulled her behind her. Sherri struggled to keep the frown off her face. Talk about friendly neighbors.

“Dorothy. This is my granddaughter Emmie. I hope she wasn't disturbing you,” she said as she removed the garden glove from her hand and placed it in Sherri's. It was soft, albeit a little wrinkly. Emmie poked her head from behind her grandmother.

“Of course not,” Sherri smiled at Emmie. “Actually, would she be able to come over and play with Sarah?” Sherri reached down and hoisted Sarah up so she could see over the fence. “I believe the girls have become friends.”

“I'm sure that would be lovely, but another day perhaps. It's time to get ready for dinner and Emmie is my little helper.” Dottie nodded her head, then turned and placed her hand on Emmie's shoulder. “What do you think, Emmie, time to check on our bread and make dinner?”

Sherri held Sarah close as Emmie and Dorothy walked away. “My friend,” Sarah said, her head snuggled close to Sherri's neck.

“She sure is. We'll have her over to play, okay?” Sherri said as she placed Sarah back on the grass, held her hand and walked her back to the other children.

Sarah looked up, her eyes wide with delight. “Morrow?” she said.

Sherri glanced back towards the fence. Her new neighbor had disappeared into the house. Sherri wasn't used to being rebuffed. “I hope so honey, I hope so.”

*****

“Can I have chocolate milk?” Emmie ran over to the fridge and struggled to grab the milk jug.

Dottie glanced out the kitchen window to her garden and thought of the neighbor, Sherri, with a crowd of kids. Just what she wanted—a daycare next door. Good thing their houses were a fair distance apart, otherwise the screaming and yelling of the children would annoy her. One child was enough. Any more than that and her patience level plummeted.

“Grandma?”

Dottie turned. Emmie kneeled on the chair, hands on her hips, and frowned.

“Grandma?” Emmie's voice, insistent this time.

“Just a minute,” Dottie said as she poured the hot water into her teacup. A chair scraped across the floor.

“Emmie, I said just a minute.” Dottie finished pouring the water, turned and found Emmie on her tiptoes on one of the table chairs with her hand inside the cupboard. The chair tipped forward with Emmie’s weight. Dottie rushed across the kitchen and caught a hold of Emmie's body as she began to sway on the chair. She helped Emmie down, pushed the chair out of the way.

“Can we have a party, Grandma?”

“What for, child?” Dottie never understood how her granddaughter’s mind worked sometimes.

“For me,” Emmie's face broke out in a smile while she brought her hands together, fingertip to fingertip.

“Please, Grandma. With cake?” Her head tilted to the side as she pleaded.

Dottie pretended to ponder the thought as she enjoyed watching Emmie, a smile planted on her face as she waited for an answer.

“Oh, I think we could do that.”

A twinkle sparkled in Emmie’s eyes. “Mommy’s cake?”

Ever since Emmie had found out that chocolate coconut had been Mary’s favorite cake, that’s all she ever wanted. Anything to feel closer to her.

“I miss Mommy. I wish she could come to my party. Do you think she has parties in heaven, Grandma?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jack swiped his hands
on his jacket as he walked across the yard. Dottie would skin him alive if he walked into the house with sawdust on his hands. He shrugged out of his jacket and noticed his pants were also coated in the dust. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound, as his dad used to say. He stomped his boots on the back deck. A waft of dust billowed up under his feet.

Jack sniffed the air. The mouth-watering aroma of fried onions drifted through the screen. Excited chatter greeted him as he walked through the door. Emmie sat at the kitchen table, her face covered with smears of chocolate while she held a plastic kid’s knife in one hand and a bowl of frosting in the other.

“Papa!”

Jack planted a kiss on top of his granddaughter’s head and rubbed her cheek with his whiskered face. Emmie tucked her head to her shoulder as she beamed a smile up at him.

“Oh Papa, you’re silly.”

He kissed her red cheek before he headed over to Dottie. He leaned over her shoulder and kissed her weathered cheek.

“Jack, you're all dirty. Go get changed before you come near my food,” Dottie said.

She smelled of onions, garlic and soil. He smiled as he gave her rounded frame a squeeze.

“Yes ma’am,” he said as he grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water. His parched throat welcomed the water as it washed away the tiny particles of dust he could feel in his throat.

“I'm hungry, woman, what's for dinner?” Jack stopped on his way up the stairs and bellowed down. He waited until he received the response he knew he'd get before heading up to the washroom.

“Just you never mind, old man. Go get washed up and dinner will be on the table. Hurry up now.”

The sound of Emmie's laughter followed him up the stairs as he reached the bathroom. Ah, it's good to be home.

*****

The glow of candles illuminated the kitchen as Jack descended the stairs. Their plain wooden table was decked out in Dottie's special linen. Jack hesitated; did he forget a special day? It wasn't their anniversary, Dottie's birthday, or even Emmie's. Both his ladies sat at the table.

Emmie wore a crown on her head—the same one from the tea party he was forced to participate in. Two candles sat in glass holders in the middle of the table, amongst Dottie's china place settings. A nervous flutter settled in his stomach. Dottie's china never came out unless it was for a special occasion.

Jack rubbed his hands together as both his girls beamed at him. He should have felt reassured. Should have, would have, could have—those words don't count when it came to the women in the house, something Jack learned years ago. Anything could be up. Jack pulled out his chair and winced as it scraped along the floor. He waited for Dottie to say something, like, oh for pity's sake Jack, would you lift up the chair and use your manners, but she remained silent.

Emmie giggled. Her fingers covered her mouth and her eyes were round saucers, but the giggles didn't stop. Dottie's face cracked a smile. Jack let out the breath he didn't know he held and reached for his cup of water. He expected to grab hold of the large cup he always used. The one Emmie had given him as a Christmas gift, complete with pink sparkles with tiny red words that said ‘I Love You’.

A snicker sounded beside him. He glanced at Dottie before looking down at the table. A small teacup sat in the place of his large cup. A small teacup.

“Whose bright idea was this?” he asked, waving his finger in the air.

Emmie giggled as he pointed his finger towards her. She raised her hand, inching its way up into the air.

“Yours?” Jack smiled inwardly as her head bobbed up and down.

“Emmie wanted to have a grown up party tonight,” said Dottie as she unwound her napkin from its ceramic holder and placed it on her lap.

Jack looked down at his own napkin. Oh, come on. Emmie cleared her throat and held her napkin up. She looked so cute sitting there with her napkin up in the air, her little eyebrow raised as she waited for him. Oh, for Pete’s sake. Jack grabbed the napkin, unwound it from the ceramic holder and with pomp ceremony, unfurled it and placed it on his lap.

“What's a man gotta do to eat around here, huh?” Jack made sure his grumble was loud enough to be heard.

Jack smiled at Dottie, and felt like he'd been sucker punched in the gut. Her eyes sparkled with life, her face beamed with happiness. Lately the only thing he'd seen in her eyes was sadness. This was the Dottie he married, the woman he fell in love with all those years ago. He reached across the table, wound his fingers through hers and squeezed.

When the table had been cleared of all but the candles, Dottie brought over the semi-iced cake on its stand. Emmie clapped her hands and climbed onto her chair, excited for cake. Jack received an extra wide slice, exactly how he liked it. He took a bite of cake and smacked his lips.

“Well, I think this party was perfect. Good idea, sweetie.” Jack clapped his hands. Emmie scrambled off her chair and spun a pirouette before she held her dress out in a pretty bow.

Jack stood and took his plate over to the sink. Dottie leaned her hip against the kitchen counter, a soft smile on her face, as she watched Emmie dance along the kitchen floor, singing a song about sunshine. He placed his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Dottie swayed in his arms as they danced to Emmie's song.

Jack leaned close and whispered into Dottie's ear. “Can I take Emmie to town with me tomorrow? The boys at the coffee shop would like to meet her. It's been over two years. They think I'm making her up.”

Dottie's body stiffened in Jack's arms.

“No.”

Jack sighed.

“I don't understand. Her life revolves around this farmhouse and us. She needs to get out. What harm can it do?”

“I said no, Jack. Leave it be.”

Jack pulled away from Dottie. She could be so stubborn at times. He didn't understand what the harm could be. Dottie coddled her too much. In the beginning, he understood, but to continue? It baffled his mind. The child needed interaction. She needed friends. She needed a life outside this house, even if it were only for an hour or two.

He didn’t want to make the same mistakes with Emmie that they’d made with Mary.

*****

“But I'm not tired, Grandma.” Emmie poked her hands into the top her grandma held for her and wiggled her head through the opening. She shivered as a cool breeze tickled her stomach before her pajama shirt covered it.

“I know you're not, Emmie, but Grandma is. That party wore me out. Now, let's dry your hair so Papa can come up to tuck you in, okay?”

The princess lights in Emmie's room twinkled on as Grandma flipped the switch. A soft glow filled the room. She loved her bedroom.

Emmie winced as Grandma unwound the towel from her hair. She always pulled when she did that.

Grandma moved over to the bed and sat down with her legs tucked under her. She patted the bed. Emmie flopped to the floor and wouldn't budge. She grabbed her pink lion beside her and hugged it close. Pinky didn't like getting her hair combed either.

“Sorry, love. Here, come sit down in front of me.”

Emmie stood and sighed. Papa would be here soon and he wouldn’t read her a story until her hair was dry.

“There, that's it,” Grandma said.

Emmie tucked her legs underneath her, just like Grandma.

“Do you promise to be gentle?” Emmie held the comb tight in her hand.

“Remember that conditioner we put in your hair, the one that smells like coconuts? That takes all the tangles away, Emmie.” She held out her hand. “Now, hand me the comb please.”

Emmie remembered the bottle with the furry animal on it. Grandma called it a Koala Bear. She closed her eyes as the comb went through her hair. A few times her head jerked backwards, but so far it didn't hurt. Grandma hummed a song, it sounded nice.

“Mommy used to sing me that song too when she brushed my hair. I like it,” Emmie said. The comb stopped and she couldn't hear Grandma hum anymore.

“Well, are we ready for a story yet?”

Emmie jumped. Papa's voice startled her.

“Oh, Jack, her hair isn't dry yet,” Grandma said. Emmie's shoulders sank. “Just wait, love, let's put it in a braid tonight, okay?”

Grandma ran the comb through her hair again. Emmie's head jerked back a couple of times as it was braided, but she kept her eyes focused on Papa. He gave her a smile.

“Can I pick a story, Papa?” Emmie asked. Papa had pulled out a book from her shelf but it wasn't the right one. Emmie had a special book for tonight.

She leapt off her bed once Grandma was done braiding her hair and ran over to the shelf. Down on her knees, Emmie searched through the books, looking for the one with the pink cover. When she found it, she pulled it out and held it up.

“This one.”

Papa scrunched his nose then tapped his fingers against the book. When he bent down and looked Emmie in the eyes, she grabbed the book out of his hands and held it close to her chest.

“How come that book, sweetheart?” Papa said.

Emmie lifted one hand and rubbed his cheek. It tickled from the prickly hair. Papa placed his hand over the top of hers.

“Cause it’s my special book.” Emmie looked into his eyes. “Can we read it tonight?”

When Papa reached out and pulled her close, she snuggled in tight. She loved it when he held her. With the book wedged tight between them, Emmie placed her arms around his big body and tried to squeeze as hard as she could. Sometimes she tried to see if she could touch her fingers together. Not yet, but one day, when she was bigger, she would.

“Of course we can. Come on,” Papa said.

Emmie squealed as he scooted his arms underneath her legs and tossed her into the air. Her tummy squirmed and she was afraid Papa would drop her.

“Tell me why you like this book so much, Emmie,” said Papa as he dropped her onto her bed. Her blankets puffed up around her as she sank into the mattress. Her body bounced a few times as she giggled.

She waited for him to sit down on the edge of her bed with her special book in hand. He opened it and placed his finger underneath the first word. Emmie stared at the picture on the page.

“Cause that's where Mommy is.”