Emma's Secret (12 page)

“You forgot, didn’t you?” The gentle accusation in Laurie’s voice rang loud and clear.

Megan frowned. She struggled to recall anytime Alexis had mentioned her birthday, but she couldn’t think of a single time. Normally, Alexis would be brimming with excitement and plans. With her birthday in August, she normally wanted to do something outside, a pool party or picnic. Last year, they held a mock summer Olympics in their backyard, complete with an egg toss, a waterslide, and horseshoes.

“I’m sure she’s talked about it with Peter, and he’s told her he’d talk to me.” At least, she prayed that was true.

There was a slight rise in Laurie’s eyebrow. “I’m sure. And where is your husband anyway? If you cancel on me again, I’ll scream.”

Before Megan could respond, the sound of the front door opening and then closing caught their attention. She cocked her head before looking past Laurie’s shoulder, and waited for Peter.

There was a small thud of what she imagined to be Peter’s briefcase as it hit the floor, and they heard the jingle of keys dropped into the bowl on the front table. Within moments, her husband walked down the hallway and stood at the kitchen doorway.

There were visible creases along his face, and a strain to his smile as he nodded to Laurie and then leaned down to brush his lips against Megan’s cheek. She smiled up at him before reaching for his hand. She needed to touch him, to feel a connection between them, but he only grazed her fingers before turning away. She could see the look on Laurie’s face out of the corner of her eye but refused to meet her gaze. Megan wasn’t in the mood for sympathy.

“So you’re going on a girls’ date? What movie are you going to see?” Peter reached into the fridge and grabbed the water jug.

“Some chick flick Laurie’s been wanting to see.” Megan smiled before narrowing her gaze. “Has Alex mentioned anything about her birthday to you?” She kept her voice down, just in case her daughter was eavesdropping.

Peter only shook his head as he gulped down the glass of water. “No. I figured you were on top of that.” He reopened the fridge door and peered inside. “Did you leave me anything for supper?” He pulled open the oven door before reaching for the microwave and finding the plate of food in there for him.

Megan’s heart sank. She had five days.

“You forgot, didn’t you?”

The look in his eyes said it all. Megan sighed.

Peter shrugged it off. “I’ll talk to her tonight about it. Explain that we just lost track of time.” She noticed the thin crease around his mouth.

“Or,” Laurie interrupted, “we could plan a surprise party. There’s that new go-kart track that opened just out of town. They
have miniature golf too. You could call and see if there is an opening. Invite some friends…”

Megan smiled. “I like that idea.” She could ask her parents and some of Alexis’s friends to join them. A surprise party would be perfect. Then Alexis would never know Megan had completely forgotten her birthday.

“That will work.” Peter nodded. The look he gave Megan told her he thought she should have come up with that idea rather than Laurie. Waves of his disappointment and disapproval washed over her as a glower settled on his face. Now that Emma was home, he thought she should be there 100 percent for Hannah and Alexis. And he was right. She should.

“Did you at least remember to order that gift I wanted for her?” His brow rose as if he didn’t expect her to say yes.

Megan stared at him blankly, trying to remember what gift he had wanted ordered. It sounded vaguely familiar.

“The golf bag, Megan. I wanted to get her a new golf bag with her name on it to go with the golf clubs I ordered. Remember? You told me you’d take care of it.” Peter sighed as he laid his plate down on the kitchen counter.

Right. She bit her lip while remembering the phone call she’d made. “They were out of the bag you wanted with the purple camouflage fabric, so they were going to see if they could locate one in their other store.” She caught the skepticism in his gaze. “I’ll give them a call tomorrow.” She made a mental note not to forget.

Peter thought her lack of memory was due to laziness. Her counselor said it was because she didn’t view the small issues as important enough to remember. But Megan feared something different. For two years, she’d been so focused on finding Emma that she’d gotten in the habit of putting off everything else until the last
minute. She wasn’t lazy or forgetful. She had simply forgotten how to prioritize.

The problem was that she needed to make her entire family a priority now. Not just Emma.

The guilt she’d felt earlier intensified. She could tell Alexis until she was blue in the face that her birthday was more important to her than anything else, but they both knew Megan would be lying.

There was nothing Jack loved more than being in his woodshed. Sure, the sawdust made his eyes water and he’d sneeze for the next day or two, but there was something about the smell. Dottie used to say it offered promises of what was to come; he personally believed it offered the promise of the unknown.

Being out here kept him busy and kept his mind off what he’d found earlier.

Jack set the piece of quarter-inch-thick plywood he’d just cut on the side table and picked up another piece. Only three more to cut. He knew it was early, but before Emmie had been returned to her parents, he’d been planning to build her a Victorian dollhouse for Christmas. Now that his girl was back in his life, he wanted her to have it.

He took a quick look at the drawings he’d made to confirm that the markings on the wood were correct, and then powered up his table saw and gently pushed the wood along until it was cut in half.

He’d spent a long time on this drawing. There were a few designs in one of his books Dottie had bought him a few years ago that he liked, but instead of choosing just one, he decided to incorporate what he liked from several. The only problem was that the house looked like a mishmash now.

He grabbed the design from the corkboard across from him and gazed at it. Maybe if he added some lattice around the roof, a wraparound porch, and extra doors…he grabbed the pencil behind his ear and was sketching the layout of the porch when a car horn interrupted him.

Jack stepped out of his woodshed and hesitated before waving to Doug. Not sure whether he’d kept the surprise off his face, he stepped back into his shed and kicked open the old fridge in the corner. By the time Doug walked in, Jack had two cans of root beer opened and had already chugged half his can. It felt good to taste something other than sawdust in his mouth.

“Thanks.” Doug took the offered can and sipped. There was a gleam in his eye as he looked around.

Jack puffed out his chest before taking another long drink. He was proud of his shed. He’d added on to it last year, enlarging it so that he had more room to store his projects and keep them out of Dottie’s way. Off to the side was a table he’d lowered for Emmie. On days when he wasn’t cutting wood, she’d sometimes sit out here with him and color while he tinkered. He missed those days.

“It’s been a long time,” Jack muttered. Ever since Dottie banned Doug from her life, he’d never stopped by. Not until now.

“Need some help?” Doug’s gaze shifted to the corner where Jack’s half-finished projects collected dust. Most needed to be stained or painted.

“I’ll get to them eventually.” Jack shrugged before emptying his can and throwing it in the recycle box beneath his table. A metallic sound filled the silence.

Doug’s lips tightened, but Jack was glad he didn’t say anything. Having Doug here was uncomfortable, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. The coffee shop, the races—those were neutral grounds. But here, where Doug’s presence hadn’t been allowed since Jack had
come home from the war…well, Dottie was probably glaring at them right now, angry beyond words that Doug would have the audacity to go behind her back.

“Think Dottie’s turning in her grave?” Doug’s voice was gruff.

“Why not go find out for yourself. She’s out front, beneath the new sapling.” Jack nodded toward the door and waited to see whether Doug would leave.

“Thought for sure you would have put her in the back with her brother.” The surprise in Doug’s voice caught Jack off guard. A tremor worked its way through his body, but Jack fisted his hands and ignored it.

“Sometimes Dottie didn’t know what’s good for her. She was too focused on the past. I can’t go back there anymore,” he mumbled.

“So don’t.” Jack jumped at Doug’s brief touch on his shoulder.

Jack cleared his throat. “Why’d you come anyway?”

Doug’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a sigh and pulled out a stool from beneath the table.

“I’m tired, old, and lonely as hell. And I know you are too. You heard Kenny; he knows he’s dying. We know he’s dying. And you…” Doug gave him a pointed look. “Something’s up with you, but you’re too pigheaded to ask for help.”

Jack buried his hands in his coverall pockets. He had half a mind to stop his old buddy from going any further, and yet he didn’t.

“You’ve got this big old house that’s falling apart around your ears, and you’re too stubborn to sell it, but you can’t fix it up either. Let us move out here with you. Kenny has a day nurse; she’ll even cook up dinner if we ask nice enough. The three of us, we’ve been through hell and back together. Why not die together too?”

Jack shook his head. “Who said anything about dying?”

He’d already had that conversation with Dottie earlier. He wasn’t going anywhere. He had his little girl to take care of.

“Then let us help you make sure you live long enough for her.”

Jack hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud.

“Just think about it.”

Jack grunted. He’d already made his decision.

He pointed to a small rocking horse on the floor.

“Stain is on the top shelf. Go with the dark stuff. If you’re sticking around, you might as well make yourself useful.”

C
hristmas Eve

We’re snowed in. The tractor is broken, and Jack hasn’t been able to keep the lane clear during the heavy snowfall today. Thank goodness we don’t go anywhere for Christmas anymore.

Our front yard is decorated with lumpy snowmen and tiny snow angels. Jack convinced me to put my knitting aside—I had just finished a dress for Emmie—and dragged me outside. We taught Emmie how to make snow angels and then Jack insisted on rolling mounds of snow together to make a snowman family. I swear my bones refuse to get warm now despite the blazing fire in front of me.

In the months that Emmie has been with us, I’ve seen a change that warms my heart. She’s accepted us completely as her new family and rarely cries out at night for her mommy anymore. I still catch the moments when I know she’s thinking of the life she used to have, and I wonder what I could have done differently, but there’s no going back. No changing the past. What’s done is done, and I can’t let it eat me up.

She is Mary’s daughter. I know she is. I have moments of doubt—that is common, I think. I never knew about Emmie until the day I saw her. So much from that day is a blur. There are so many things I question and wish I could remember, but one thing I know for sure is that I love this little girl more than anything.

This is her first Christmas with us, and I think it will be wonderful.

Jack loves all the cookies and squares that have filled the kitchen. Emmie is a natural baker and a good helper. I think she’ll like the matching aprons I made for her and me to wear while we are baking. Our freezer is full of containers of baked items for Jack to donate to the local churches. He was supposed to have done that today, but with the snowfall warning for the county, I’m glad he didn’t. The cookies can wait.

This is the first Christmas in a long time when I’m actually looking forward to the day. Our tree is up and decorated, the lights are strung, and the giggles of a young child remind me of the days when Mary was a little girl.

The only thing more perfect would be for Mary to be here as well. But there’s a snowman outside with her name on it, so that will have to do, as Jack says.