Emma's Secret (21 page)

She would never forget what had happened that day. It had been right after the first anniversary of Emma’s disappearance. She’d just dropped off a new flyer with a different image of Emma to be printed at the downtown photo shop. She stopped in at the library and grabbed a few books she’d placed on hold for Hannah and Alexis and decided to wait at a nearby park for the flyers to be printed. She sat on one of the park benches and browsed through a home decorating magazine she’d picked up earlier until she heard the laughter of children nearby. Two small girls were playing in the fountain that sat in the middle of the park, splashing each other while their mothers stood by. Megan smiled and was about to return her attention to the magazine when something caught her eye. Another little girl with blonde curly hair.

Megan still recalled the way she dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand and forced herself to count to ten, just like Kathy had told her to do. It took everything in her not to rush over to see if it was Emma. She’d done that too many times to count, and it never ended well. But when the little girl looked her way and a wide smile covered her face, nothing could have held Megan back from rushing over to her. She could have sworn that little girl was her daughter…until she got closer and realized the curly blonde hair was the only thing Emma and this little girl had in common. But by that point, the smile had disappeared from the girl’s face and, instead, she stared at Megan in horror.

Megan would never forget that look. Never.

She rushed away and drove straight to Peter’s office, only to find out he was out with
her
for the afternoon. When she arrived home, she found Riley waiting in her driveway. All it took was one look; once inside, she found herself bawling like a baby in his arms instead of confiding in her husband.

Maybe it was the way he stroked her hair or rubbed her back. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t condemn her for thinking that that little girl was Emma or berate her for scaring the little girl.

Or maybe it was just the fact that he was there when Peter was not, and all Megan needed was someone to lean on.

Either way, one second Megan was crying against Riley’s chest, and the next, his lips were on hers and she found herself lost in the moment.

It was one kiss, but the ramifications were endless. For both of them.

Peter had walked in shortly afterward, when they stood there staring at each other trying to understand what had just happened. No words were said, but they all felt the tense undercurrents. To this day, Peter had never confronted her about it.

Megan’s shoulders heaved as she acknowledged the wide range of emotions flowing through her. Maybe that was their problem. The many things she and Peter had left unsaid to each other were eating away at them, tearing them apart, and no matter how hard they worked at rebuilding their marriage, some things couldn’t be swept under the carpet. She was ashamed at herself for allowing the silence to grow between them, for thinking it would go away if it were ignored. Like everything else in her life.

She was also angry with herself for feeling betrayed—and at Laurie for betraying her. It didn’t make sense for her to feel this way. And yet she did. While she might not have slept with Riley, there had been an emotional connection, and sometimes that could be stronger than a physical connection.

Megan leaned her head back against the door. She loved Peter. With all her heart. But he hadn’t been there when she needed him the most, and that pain, that memory of feeling so…alone, seemed like it would never go away. But she couldn’t forget what it felt like
to have someone else in her corner, someone who
did
believe in her. Someone who encouraged her to never give up instead of suggesting they hold a memorial service.

Megan’s jaw clenched. Peter had given up. Megan sucked in air, drawing it deep into her lungs. Everyone else gave up, but she never did.

Using the wall for support, Megan climbed to her feet. She needed to leave all that in the past. Her counselor had urged her to learn to forgive. And she had, or so she thought. But there was a difference between forgiving and forgetting. Forgiving was something she could learn to do, but forgetting? That would never happen.

She climbed into the corner armchair in her room and reached for the knitted throw. A cold chill permeated her bones, and once the blanket covered her, she nestled beneath its heavy weight despite the warm wind blowing through the window.

Was it wrong of her to feel betrayed by Laurie? Of course it was; it had to be. But why didn’t Laurie tell her? Why didn’t she come clean that night at the bakery instead of keeping silent and pretending it was nothing?

Megan’s shoulders dropped. Laurie didn’t tell her because she knew how Megan would react. Did she blame her? No. The look in Laurie’s eyes when she realized Megan was standing there haunted her.

But Laurie should have come clean.

That was what hurt the most. Not that she and Riley were involved, but that Laurie had hidden it from her. Perhaps if Laurie had told her ahead of time and given her time to process what it would mean to Megan and their friendship, then maybe seeing them in such a tender embrace wouldn’t have affected her as strongly as it had.

Or maybe it would have. But it would have been nice to know. She wasn’t sure what to do now. Confronting Laurie didn’t make sense. She’d only be admitting something that wasn’t true: that she was jealous when she wasn’t. She had no right to be. And telling Peter would be awkward. He wouldn’t just hear the words; he’d be looking for a hidden meaning or emotion, wanting to see whether she still had feelings for Riley. Needless to say, bringing him up to Peter wouldn’t be smart.

Megan breathed in deep and exhaled. She should be happy for her best friend. It had been too long since Laurie had been involved in a relationship. This was a step in the right direction.

But as Megan folded the blanket over the back of the chair, she couldn’t help but wish that Laurie would wake up and see how awkward this would be if their relationship continued.

She winced when she realized how that sounded.

P
eter squirmed in his seat—he was uncomfortable sitting at the corner table at the donut shop, where everyone and anyone coming through the drive-thru could see him.

“Worried your wife’s going to drive by?”

Peter almost dropped his coffee mug as he was raising it to his lips. Instead, the dark liquid spilled over the sides. He wiped it up, never glancing at Jack, who sat across from him, and struggled to respond without giving too much away.

“Don’t bother trying to deny it. No man parks in the back corner of the lot if he doesn’t care about being noticed.” Jack chuckled before picking up a green crayon and filling in a tree outline in the new coloring book he’d bought Emma.

Peter knew his face flushed.

“You haven’t told her yet.”

Peter glanced over in time to catch the small shake of Jack’s head. He shrugged. Jack didn’t know Megan; he didn’t understand the battle he’d be in if she found out about these little dates. He was actually surprised she hadn’t by now. He thought for sure she would have figured something was going on and would have called him on it.

“Take it from one who knows: Keeping secrets from your wife always backfires. Somehow, she’ll figure it out. It might be a look on your face, or something Em here says, but trust me, when she does, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Papa!” Emma’s brows knotted together She shook her crayon at him, and it was all Peter could do not to smile. Apparently, it was the same for Jack.

“Okay, princess. I’m sorry.” He rubbed the top of her head and winked at Peter before his face paled.

“Are you okay?” Peter leaned forward. The look on Jack’s face was vaguely familiar. Peter’s own father had passed away from a heart attack, so he knew the signs. Tiny beads of sweat dotted the top of Jack’s head and forehead as his face grew white.

Peter pushed back his chair, but Jack held up his hand. His nostrils flared before his color returned.

“Daddy?” Emma sat back, her crayon clutched tight in her fist as her head rotated to look at Jack, and then Peter, and back to Jack.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. No need to worry.” Jack’s hoarse voice seemed to calm Emma down. She rose up to sit on her knees and placed her hand over his chest.

“Is it your heart again, Papa?” She frowned at him. “Grandma said you have to be careful. Maybe you shouldn’t color with me.” She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips before she rested her head on his chest.

Peter sat back down in his chair as Jack stroked Emma’s hair. There was so much to take in right now: Jack being sick, and Emma not only knowing about it but calmly accepting it. This obviously wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. “How bad is it?”

Jack shrugged. “Doctor wants to do more tests.”

And?
Peter mouthed the word, not sure that this was something Emma should be hearing.

Jack only shrugged.

Peter swallowed and almost choked. It must be bad. He couldn’t imagine being so calm about something so serious.

“What does your doctor say?”

Jack raised his coffee mug and took a sip. “What do they know? I’ve got a little girl here to watch grow up. I’ll go when I’m ready to go.”

“And you’re not ready.” Emma piped up. She pushed off Jack’s chest and sat back down in her chair, engrossed in her drawing once again.

Peter still couldn’t believe how calm Emma was about all this. He would have expected her to be more stressed about Jack being sick, but she was as unfazed as if this were an everyday occurrence. Maybe it had been. Peter winced at the thought. He hated that his little girl had known so much grief in such a short time.

“There you go; the boss has the final say,” Peter said. Jack’s hand shook slightly, and Peter tightened his lips. Maybe he should insist Jack go to the hospital.

“Do me a favor?”

Peter glanced down at the hand covering his own. It was wrinkled and spotted with age. Jack’s fingertips were rough as they grazed his knuckles. He glanced up to see concern in the other man’s eyes.

“Tell her. Even if it means I don’t see Em again for a while. Your wife needs to know. Keeping secrets, especially something like this, isn’t good for a marriage. It’ll destroy you both, and nothing is worth that. Not even this.” Tears gathered in Jack’s eyes before he blinked them away.

Peter winced. He was right. He needed to tell Megan. But he wouldn’t let her take Jack away from Emma. Not again. Not now.

“On one condition,” Peter said.

A steel gaze met his own, but Peter refused to back down.

“What’s that?”

“You remember you’re not alone anymore. You’ve got a granddaughter to live for now.”

Jack turned his attention from Peter down to the little girl beside him.

Peter knew the effect his words would have. He knew there would be ramifications, but it was worth it. He’d have to make Megan see that these meetings were necessary. That it wasn’t only Emma’s emotional well-being at stake. And if she didn’t agree? He knew he’d have to stand firm in his decision.

He had just given Jack his family back.

M
egan’s mom and dad had dropped by on the pretext of picking Alexis up to take her out for ice cream, something they did for all the girls on their birthdays. Daniel had wanted to check the latest baseball score on TV and sat down in the family room with Peter, while Sheila drank a cup of coffee in the kitchen with Megan. They had one hour before they all needed to be at the small amusement park where Megan had booked Alexis’s birthday party.

Emma sat curled in an overstuffed chair in the far corner of the family room, playing with some of her ponies. She’d originally been out in the kitchen with Meg and Sheila, but slowly she’d ventured into the family room.

“Emma, why don’t you come and sit by your old Papa?” Daniel patted the couch beside him during a commercial. Peter caught the deer-in-headlights look on Emma’s face as she raised her head and stared at Daniel.

“Come on, sweetheart. I won’t bite.” Dan’s smile faltered when he saw the look in her eyes.

Emma sat frozen in her chair.

“Not yet, huh? Well…I’ll just go see what your grandmother is doing.” Dan’s shoulders slumped before he pushed himself off the couch.

Peter gave him an apologetic smile before he too stood and went over to crouch in front of Emma.

“What’s wrong?” He lowered his voice and reached a hand out to place on top of hers. Although ever since coming home she had been somewhat reserved when Megan’s parents came by, she was usually friendlier than this.

Emma’s lip quivered. “He’s not my Papa,” she whispered.

Peter sat back on his heels. He should have expected this, should have realized why, in all the times Dan and Sheila had stopped by and tried to connect with Emma, she pulled away. Why she struggled with getting close to them.

Why did they not think about this? Emma didn’t even remember them, so to throw her into a relationship with them, expecting her to trust them…how many times did they have to hurt their youngest daughter before they realized it?

“Do you remember our talk the other day about nicknames for people?” He watched as Emma bit her lip before she nodded.

“So how about we call Mommy’s daddy another name? Like Grandpa or Grandpa Dan? I used to call my grandpa Pops.”

The tension in Emma’s body released, and she picked up one of her ponies. “Can everyone have their own special nickname?”

Peter nodded. He had a feeling he knew where she was going with this.

“Mommy won’t be upset?”

Peter relaxed his shoulders as he casually looked over them into the kitchen. Dan stood at the kitchen table beside Sheila, but his gaze was fixed on Emma.

“No, sweetheart, she won’t be upset.”

Emma cast her eyes downward as she fiddled with the pony in her fingers. Peter stood up, leaned down, and placed a small kiss on the top of her head; then he held out his hand.