Finding Emma (8 page)

Jack took another drink of his coffee, emptying the cup of every last drop.

“Well, I should go. Got a tire swing to hook up for Emmie today,” he said. “Could use some help if you need somethin' to do.” Jack kept his gaze on the table.

It was the first time in a long time he'd invited Doug to the farm. A long time ago he swore he'd shoot him with his shotgun if he ever stepped foot on his land. A lifetime ago. Doug never had. They rebuilt their friendship, but it was only over coffees and fishing trips. Never at the house.

“Nah, I should drop by Kenny's place and see where he's at,” Doug said. His voice quivered a bit. Jack grunted. Probably a good thing he didn't come. Some bridges are too old to fix.

Jack grabbed his dishes and headed over to the counter as Doug sat at the table. He didn't look back.

The gal already stood there with his box of donut holes. She opened the container and added his uneaten donut while she shook her head. “See ya tomorrow boys.”

Jack wanted to get home, see how Dottie was feeling and hang up that tire swing for Emmie.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Upstairs in the bedroom
Megan stood in front of a mirror. She leaned over so her long brown hair fell in waves across her face. She tried to attach the end of her necklace to its chain, but kept missing the eye. Once attached, she positioned the chain on her chest to see where it laid. Not quite long enough, but it would do. She lifted her head and gazed at the woman before her. She didn't recognize her.

The woman in the mirror looked old, haggard even. There were bags under her eyes that no amount of make-up could hide the dark circles. She looked down, at the jeans that once were snug against her hips. She twisted her waist and looked again. They looked good on her, a bit loose in areas, but better than before. The running helped.

She gathered her hair together in her hands and pulled it into a high ponytail. She should have washed it. Peter liked her hair up -- only to take it down again with his own hands. She closed her eyes and imagined the sensation of his hands on her neck, the way it felt to have him hold the weight of her hair in his hand.

Her head jerked back as the elastic in her hair tugged loose. She opened her eyes to find Peter standing behind her, a grin on his face before he buried it into the back of her neck. His lips whispered promises against her skin, his hands worked their magic until she was enthralled. She leaned back into his solid body and breathed a gentle sigh.

“This is a surprise.”

Megan turned her body until she stood face to face with her husband. She laid her hands on his chest, looked into his eyes and smiled. “Laurie picked up the girls for a night out. Which means we are alone.”

“And you're dressed. Why?” Peter's curved eyebrow rose, a suggestive smile lingered on his face as his gaze travelled along her body.

“Because I thought we could have a nice dinner. It's been a while since we've spent alone time.” She leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on against his lips. “Maybe we could go to the Silver Rose?”

Megan turned back to the mirror. All she needed were earrings and some heels and she'd be ready to go. A tiny sliver of excitement sprouted in her heart. She was actually looking forward to a night out. She'd keep her promise to Laurie, but it could wait until after dinner.

Then she saw the pout on Peter's face. Her tiny sprout withered. If she were to make up for this morning, maybe she needed to give in a bit.

“Or we could order in?” Megan said. Something like a smile flirted with her lips. Her eyes twinkled back to herself in the mirror.

Hope sprang in Peter's eyes. He bent his head to kiss the back of her neck.

“I like how you think, Mrs. Taylor,” Peter wiggled his hips in a suggestive dance that brought a blush to Megan's face.

Watching this dance of seductive love play out in the mirror added a new dimension to the experience. Despite being fully clothed, Megan might as well have been naked, vulnerable to Peter's desire. His tie now off, he began to unbutton his shirt, slowly. Megan placed her hands on his chest and pushed him. He took a few steps back until his legs met the edge of the bed. She pushed again. He fell onto the bed, his arms spread out while a grin remained fixed on his face.

Passion took over Megan's body. Her limbs flowed together as she loosened her top and slid it up her body. She edged closer to the bed. Peter's eyes lit up. When her legs were between his feet, she stopped. The unfamiliar sexual feline response shocked her and at the same time, excited her. It had been a long time since she played this role. She hoped it served her well. When Peter found out she broke another promise, this scene might be erased from any future scripts forever.

*****

Relaxed, Megan leaned back against the couch in the family room and waited for Peter to join her. The Mu Shoo Pork they ordered was delicious. Peter had found the scones she baked earlier, so he offered to make coffee to go with the treat. The coffee's aroma wafted through the house as it brewed.

She curled her feet under and picked up a magazine Laurie had dropped off when she picked up the girls. The Home & Garden Ultimate Dessert Magazine. Laurie stuck bright yellow post-it arrows on her favorite recipes. Laurie couldn't bake, so apparently this was her way of asking Megan to do it for her. Nice one.

She studied a coconut vanilla cake recipe as Peter entered into the room with a tray. Two cups of coffee sloshed over their rims with each step he took. Megan placed the magazine down on her lap and took hold of her coffee as her husband stood before her. She didn't touch the scone.

“Find anything good?” Peter asked as he gestured to the magazine.

“Maybe.” She shrugged her shoulders. Megan turned it over and showed Peter the delectable picture of a white cake with coconut icing. Everything depended on how their conversation went tonight.

Peter sipped his coffee and pulled the magazine off her lap.

She waited for him to speak, but he continued to flip through the pages. An edgy silence filled the room. Megan knew she should say something, but she wasn't sure how to begin. She glanced down at the watch on her wrist. The girls would be home in a few hours. She concentrated on her coffee cup, listening to the rattle of paper as Peter turned each page.

“So what's wrong?”

Megan looked up and found Peter's eyes on her. Her heart gripped with fear, her stomach knotted together with sharp pains. He knows. The thud of the magazine as it closed startled her.

She held the coffee mug tight in her hands. Its warmth didn’t impact the sudden numbness in her fingers. She took a deep breath, held it to the count of three and exhaled. She could do this. He would forgive her. He'd understand, he had to understand.

“The other day, when I went to get coffee...” she struggled with the words. Her fingers pushed the coffee cup around the palms of her hand.

“You already apologized,” said Peter, his voice void of any emotion.

“I know.” Megan took a deep breath. “I was in the drive-thru and I saw her.” Megan shook her head, “Emma. I thought I saw Emma walking across the parking lot.”

There, she'd said it. She made no excuses, didn't even try to explain. It would be pointless. It was always the same, every time it happened. Whether she saw the top of Emma's head in a crowded mall, or heard her voice in a busy park, it always ended the same. She left the area alone, devastated that she'd gotten her hopes up. Nothing Peter could say would hurt as bad. Nothing.

The steady tick-tick-tick of the wind up clock that sat on a bookshelf filled the silence in the room. It had been a gift from Peter when they first started dating. Megan picked at her fingernails, her head bent down to avoid her husband’s gaze. Why doesn't he say anything? She glanced out of the corner of her eye and found him staring at his own hands. The look on his face shattered her heart into tiny pieces.

“Peter?” Megan winced. She sounded like she was begging. What if that little girl had been Emma? Would she be asking for his forgiveness then? No, it would be the other way around. Why couldn't he understand?

“What did you do?”

Megan whipped her head up. Peter's voice was so low, Megan almost asked him to repeat what he'd said.

“I, ah ...” She couldn't say it. Not to him. He already knew. Why did he even have to ask?

Peter brought his head up and stared at the wall straight ahead.

“You what, Megan? What did you do? Did you just watch her until you realized it wasn't our daughter? Did you get out of your Jeep and grab her? Did you follow her into the store?” Peter's voice rose in cadence as he barraged her with his questions.

“What exactly did you do?”

A tear slide down Megan's cheek as she tried to form the words Peter wanted to hear. She opened her mouth, but no words came forth. There was nothing to say.

Peter jumped off the couch and headed to the fireplace, where a multitude of family photos stood on display across the mantle. Even though his back faced her, his anger confronted her. His shoulders were tight, his legs stiff. The muscles on his back protruded against his white t-shirt. She couldn't see what he was doing, but she knew. He stood in the same spot she favored. Directly in front of Emma's birthday picture, taken just before she was kidnapped.

“Peter, I --” Megan shuddered as her husband's shoulders dropped. He leaned his elbows against the mantle and his body shook. What had she done?

“I miss her too,” Peter's voice cracked. “More ... more than you can imagine. I dream about her, I wake up to the sound of her laughter. I see her too.” Tremors wracked his body. “Just out of my reach, her curly blond hair -- always out of my reach.”

Megan perched on the edge of the couch, unsure if she should go to him to offer comfort. Is this what our marriage has come to? Peter turned, his bright blue eyes flooded with tears as he looked at Megan. She didn't move.

“But I know it's not her. I know the difference between my dreams and reality, Meg. Do you?” His eyes dared her to argue with him, to try to prove her innocence. She knew she shouldn't, but she did anyhow.

“What if, Peter? What if that was her? What if it was Emma? Do you want me to just give up and give in? Is that what you want?” Megan stood and crossed her arms. Please let him say no.

The silence the room was deadly. All it would take was one word to shatter the precarious silence. Please don't let him say it. I won't choose. I can't.

“Of course not. But, you promised Meg. You made a promise and broke it. To me.” Peter walked over to chair opposite the couch and sank down.

Megan didn't know what to say. She didn't know what words he needed to hear.

“I can't keep doing this. We can't keep doing this,” Peter said. He rested his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his hands. “We need closure. We can't keep our lives on hold waiting,” he took a deep breath, “waiting for something that will never happen.”

“What are you saying?” Megan worked hard to keep her voice level. Inside her whole being shook. She clenched her hands. She wanted to shout at him, rail at him, but he wouldn't even look her in the eye.

“Maybe it's time to move on.” His voice, a mere whisper, shattered whatever hope Megan held for them.

“Never.” Venom filled her voice, full of hatred and anger. She didn't care. How dare he.

Peter lifted his head, tears rimmed his eyes. “Not give up, I didn’t mean that.”

“Well praise be to God. For a moment I thought you meant to believe our daughter was dead.” She spit the words out at him, dumb founded that he would even assume they should move on without Emma. She held her hands up in exasperation. Her whole body vibrated with anger. “Don't you dare tell me to give up. Not on Emma. I will never accept that she's not coming home. Never.” She headed to the doorway afraid if she walked away, she wouldn't come back. Not to this.

Peter's voice stopped her.

“Each time you see her yet come home empty handed, my heart breaks all over again. Except, it was never whole to begin with. I don't want to accept that she's gone forever, but I don't know what else to do. We have two other children who need us, Meg. There won't be anything left for them if my heart keeps breaking.”

Megan grabbed onto the trim of the door, an anchor to her trembling body. She turned to find Peter behind her. He reached his arms out but she stepped to the side. His hand brushed against her arm. She walked to the fireplace and grabbed hold of a picture on the mantle.

“It's because of our other children that I won't give up on Emma. If I let her go, I let her down. You talk of broken promises, Peter. But I'm not the only one who’s broken them. What of the one we made to our girls? That they would always be safe? Oh, wait. You blame me for that one too.”

Megan held on to that picture, her fingers white from the grip. A family picture when they were whole, complete. Now they were only broken, splintered into pieces that were forever lost. Megan didn't know how to fix it. Peter was supposed to be the key, the glue that held them all together while she held onto the hope of her daughter's return.

Megan's throat constricted as she tried to swallow her anger. It took a few tries before she could speak without spewing the anger that consumed her being.

“I need you Peter. I need you to believe in me, to believe in Emma. Everything that I have done has been for her. You asked me earlier if I was having a relapse. Trying to find our daughter is the only thing keeping me sane. The only thing. But I can't do this alone. You talk of your heart breaking, but have you ever thought of what I go through? Do you think I enjoy the agony? I literally die inside every time, Peter. Without Emma, I'm nothing. Nothing.”

Sobs ripped through Megan's body as she crumbled to the floor. The picture frame tumbled out of her hand. Megan grabbed for the frame but missed. It smacked into the fireplace, the glass shattered from the impact.

She stared at the splintered glass, at the jagged lines that ripped across the surface. It's how their family lived now, cracked at the core. She picked up the frame. She could replace the glass and no one would ever know. There was no easy fix for her family though. No way to ever hide the damage.

She looked up but found she was alone. Megan struggled to walk the distance to the couch. The steady cadence of the clock filled the silence. She pulled an afghan across her body and curled into a ball underneath it. She watched the empty doorway, praying Peter would come back. He couldn't have left. Not like this. Their marriage stood on shaky ground, but was a landslide inevitable? She couldn't believe that this would be the catalyst.