Finding Emma (13 page)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“And we picked pretty flowers
and made chains from them. Just like Daisy and I do. It was so much fun!” Emmie chattered away at the kitchen table while she played with the peas on her plate.

Jack chuckled. His granddaughter's enthusiasm was contagious. For him at least. Dottie on the other hand just glowered at the opposite end of the table. Jack ignored her. She was in a mood. Had been since they left their neighbors house so rudely. It was so unlike Dottie that Jack questioned her once they arrived at the house, but Dottie would only slam her pots around on the cupboards until he escaped outside.

“And she looks like my sister too. Isn't that funny, Papa?” Emmie continued to push her peas around her plate. “I think it's funny.”

“Is that right?” Jack continued to stare at Dottie, and merely placated Emmie, until he noticed the look in Dottie's eyes. They were wide. With fear.

“Yep. And Papa, you know what?”

“No, Emmie. What?” He glanced at Emmie. Her eyes were wide too. With joy.

A fork rattled against a plate. Dottie placed her fork down, picked up her napkin, dabbed her mouth with the linen and placed it down on the plate. A plate full of uneaten food. What is going on? Did Dottie forget to take her medication today?

“She's just as nice as my sister too! Isn't that great. I wish my sister could meet her. Then we'd all be friends!” Emmie flung her arms up in exuberance.

“Sister? What sister?” Jack shook his head. He must have missed something.

“My friend's sister. She's so nice!” Emmie forked a helping of shepherd’s pie into her mouth.

“Well, that's nice now, isn't it?”

Jack had no idea what she was talking about, but figured that she'd chatter away enough for him to figure it out. At least the girl had friends now. If anything out of that awkward visit came about, it was at least that.

“Well, wife, you made another fine meal,” Jack patted his stomach and winked. Dottie glared back at him. She grabbed her plate, pushed her chair back and stood. Now what?

He followed Dottie to the sink. He laid his plate on the counter and placed his hand over hers as she reached to turn on the sink taps. She shrugged his hand off.

“Don't you think that would be cool, Papa?”

Jack stared at Dottie and struggled to read her eyes, but they remained shuttered, closed to him. He sighed, his shoulders deflated as he accepted defeat and turned back to Emmie.

“What's that, Princess?”

“If they could meet?”

Emmie's voice sang with happiness. Jack closed his eyes. In all his years, he'd never mastered the language of women. Never would either.

“If who could meet?” Jack started to worry. Dottie’s lips were pursed so tight he could see the individual white lines and her chin wavered.

Emmie turned in her chair and sat on her knees. Her hands gripped the top of the wood. She shrugged her shoulders and sighed.

“Papa, you weren't listening! My sister and --”

Dottie whirled around, her body quivered as she pointed a finger at Emmie.

“That's enough! I knew letting you play with those strange children was wrong. I knew it.”

She turned to face Jack and jabbed her finger into his chest.

“I told you it was wrong, but you insisted. Now look. She's lying. She never used to lie to us. Our Mary never lied!”

Tears welled up in Emmie's eyes before they streamed down her cheeks.

“But, but Grandma, I not lying! I promise!”

“Now, Dottie--” Jack knew if he didn’t intervene now, things would get nasty.

Dottie jabbed him again. This time he winced.

“Don't. Don't, Jack. I won't put up with these lies.” She turned her back to him. “Go. Up those stairs little girl. I don't put up with little girls who lie. You can spend the rest of the night in your room.” She pointed towards the stairs. “Go.”

Jack's heart almost broke when Emmie's gaze turned to him. She pleaded with him, but he only shook his head. Tonight was not the night to fight Dottie. He jerked his head towards the stairs.

With her head tucked almost to her chin, Emmie climbed down from her chair. Her body folded into itself, her arms dangled at the sides as she trudged her way to the stairway. She stopped, lifted her head and looked at Jack. He smiled at her. Her lips protruded into the largest pout he'd ever seen on her. She lowered her head and lifted one foot to rest on the first step.

Jack glanced out of the corner of his eye to make sure Dottie wasn't looking. He took a small step towards Emmie, but Dottie's voice stopped him cold.

“Don't. She needs to learn, Jack.”

Emmie climbed the stairs. She sniffled with each step. Jack turned away from Dottie. He waited until he heard Emmie's bedroom door close before he turned to his wife. About to barrage her with questions, the tears in her eyes silenced any words he wanted to say.

“Sisters,” Dottie muttered under her breath. “Why would she think about sisters now?”

Jack’s body stilled, frozen in silent horror. Dottie never looked at him. It was as if she forgot he stood right beside her, close enough to hear her thoughts. He wanted to beg her to look at him, to stop thinking out loud, but he couldn't. The next words out of Dottie's mouth robbed Jack blind.

“I never thought she had sisters.”

*****

Dottie's body quivered. Her hands gripped the bottom edge of the kitchen counter until they were white. It had been over two years, why would she talk about sisters now?

With slow precision, Dottie released one hand at a time from the counter and turned on the taps to the sink. She grabbed each plate, fork and cup, one at a time, until the sudsy water covered the dishes.

She tried to remember the day she brought Emmie home with her. It was all a blank. She couldn't remember the drive into the city. She couldn't even recall seeing her daughter. When was the last time she remembered seeing her daughter? Why couldn’t she remember?

The only memory she had of that day was the feel of her granddaughter’s hand inside her own, the tight grip as they walked into the house together.

A sob welled up within Dottie's body. She sucked in her breath and held it. It didn't matter though, the sob tore through her body until it caved in upon itself. Did Mary have other children she never knew about?

Dottie collapsed -- any strength her body held was gone with that thought. Jack's strong arms caught her before she hit the ground. She rested her head against his chest as she gave into the pain that flowed through her body.

Why couldn't she remember? Why did the memory of seeing her daughter for the last time escape her? Her head pounded as the questions swirled through her mind.

“Dottie?”

Jack's eyes stared down at her. She struggled to stand. Jack's arms tightened around her before he pulled her up. She leaned against the counter and closed her eyes. A pounding pain settled right behind her left eye.

“Dottie? Are there sisters?” There was hesitation in Jack's voice.

She shook her head. She didn't want to talk about it. Not with him. Not now.

“She shouldn't be lying, Jack. Mary would never lie to us. Why is she now?” She couldn't look him in the eye. She concentrated on the dishes instead.

“She's not Mary. She's a little girl with an active imagination. Sending her to her room was wrong.” Dottie's body sagged when Jack walked away from her.

“I know who she is.” A dish clattered in the sink as it slipped between her fingers.

“I think you should let her come out of her room.”

Dottie whirled around, the dishcloth dripped water onto the floor.

“Don't you dare tell me how to raise that little girl.”

She bent down and wiped up the water that pooled by her feet. She didn't understand her anger. Jack was right. She'd overreacted and she knew it.

“I just think you're being too harsh with her, that's all.” Jack shrugged his shoulders. He gathered the plates and cutlery off the table and brought them over to her.

Dottie sighed. “That's because she's your princess. I know what I'm doing Jack. We can't have Mary lying to us. If we stop her now, then the past won't be repeated.”

“Emmie.”

The pounding in Dottie's head intensified. Her eyes hurt. Jack's hands rested on Dottie's shoulders. She groaned and dropped her head forward as his fingers massaged the knots.

“Who?” The pounding increased, until a dull roar filled her ears.

“Our granddaughter.”

Dottie rolled her head as the pressure of Jack's fingers did wonders. She didn't feel as tight in the neck as she did earlier. Now only if this headache would go away.

“I don't understand, Jack. Mary never had a daughter.”

An intense, shooting pain exploded behind Dottie's eyes. She cried out as her body bent forward. Jack's arms encircled her. He took her hand and led her out of the kitchen. He muttered something under his breath, but she couldn't make it out.

With his hand on her back, he helped her walk up the stairs and into their bedroom. She sank on their bed. Her feet lifted and she rested her head on her pillow. It felt good so good to lay her head down. A thought nagged at her, she was missing something, but she couldn't remember what.

But she knew it had to do with Mary.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A small box lay on the ma
T at Megan's front door. A brown box with a chocolate satin bow. She picked it up. It was light. The delicate scent drifted from the box. She brought it closer to her nose. Hmmm, chocolate.

Inside the house, she kicked off her shoes and headed to the kitchen. She had an hour before she had to pick up the girls. After their argument this morning, Peter had rushed out. She tried calling him all afternoon but he never answered. When he didn't bother to show up for dinner Megan knew he wouldn't be coming home.

She seethed the more she thought about it. He knew tonight was a busy night. They both needed to be on duty. Alexis had soccer practice at the same time Hannah needed to be at the pool for her swimming lessons. So she dropped Hannah off early at the arena before she took Alexis to the soccer field. Alexis didn't want her to stay and watch, so instead of heading to the pool, she decided to come home and see if Peter decided to show up at the house while they were gone.

He didn't.

But there was this small package for her at the door. A tiny sliver of hope settled in her heart. Maybe Peter wanted to surprise her. Maybe this was his way of saying sorry.

She positioned the box on the counter and opened the envelope attached to the front. She smiled as she pulled the card out. It was a picture of a girl diving into a box of chocolates. It wasn't from Peter. But she had an idea who it was from. The hand writing in the card proved it.

When life hands you a box of chocolates, I say we just dive right in! xoxo Laurie.

She smiled and reached for the phone. It was answered after the first ring.

“Did you open it yet?” Laurie asked.

“No, but I love the card. You're a sweetie,” Megan tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear. She untied the ribbon and lifted the lid off the box.

“So open it, will you?” Excitement laced Laurie's voice.

With the lid off the box, Megan laughed. Laurie had given her a box of chocolates to go with the card. Except half of the chocolates were gone.

“So that's where the 'we just dive in' part takes place, huh?” Megan couldn't stop smiling.

“Well, you weren't home when I dropped it off. Plus, I know you, if I didn't take some now, there'd be none left for later, so ...”

“So, you helped yourself.” Megan picked up a delectable square piece and bit into it. Hmm, caramel. Her eyes closed as she savored the creamy flavor.

“Oh. My ...” she sighed into the phone.

“Good, huh?”

“Hmmm...” Megan shoved the rest of the chocolate piece into her mouth.

“Like I'd buy you, the ultimate chocoholic, anything less than the best.”

Megan looked through the rest of the chocolates. “You have no idea how much I needed this.”

“Bad day?”

“You could say that. Peter came home to find Detective Riley here.” Megan grabbed another chocolate and headed out to the back porch.

“Uh, oh.”

Megan sat down in one of the deck chairs. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

“He accused me of having an affair.” Her shoulders slumped.

“Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. You're kidding me, right? Did he actually say that?” The shock in Laurie's voice was quite evident.

Megan shook her head. She thought back over the words flung between them this morning. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to forget.

“I’m not sure where we'll go from here. We've already hit rock bottom. I think instead of heading up, we're just running parallel. Opposite ways. Alone.”

She knew she should probably be upset, distressed or even a bit sad about this. But she wasn't. She was just ... flat. Empty. She shrugged her shoulder at the thought. Indifferent.

“Is it that bad?”

“I don't know. Maybe? I guess we'll see. We're both on edge right now. Riley came by to show us the updated sketches of Emma. I think we both just reacted badly and took it out on each other.”

The image of Emma as a boy haunted her. It had invaded her thoughts all day. She'd tried to drown it out by watching old movies in bed, but she couldn't stop thinking about it. It was all she could do to not go down to Peter's study and pull the pictures out again.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Megan bit her lip. She didn't know where she'd be without Laurie. She'd done so much for her, been there for her through everything.

“No, just keep the supplies of chocolate coming. I'll meet you at the corner for our run tomorrow.”

Megan hung up the phone. It was so quiet outside. Maybe instead of waiting to see if Peter came home, she'd just head down to the beach and walk along the boardwalk until the girls were done.

She picked up the phone. She should call Peter. She placed the phone back on the table. She didn't want to. She didn't know what she would say.

She headed back into the house. Laurie’s question wouldn’t leave her thoughts. Was Peter having an affair? Despite having accused him of it, she didn’t think he was. Or had. Yet. It was a niggling fear in the back of her mind. But the wife is always the last one to know, isn’t she? Sure, he’d been working a lot of late nights recently, but …

Megan grabbed her purse and another piece of chocolate and headed to the front door. There was only one way to find out. She only hoped she was ready for the answer.

*****

“Can someone open the door for me?” Megan juggled the containers of ice cream in her hands as she stood at the front door.

“My hands are full,” said Alexis as she kicked her soccer ball with her feet while carrying her shin guards.

“I got it,” Hannah came along beside Megan, dropped the bag containing her wet bathing suit and towel, grabbed hold of the keys, and opened door.

“Where is Dad?” she asked.

Megan shrugged. Ice cream dribbled down the side of a cup onto her hand. She rushed into the kitchen, placed the containers of ice cream down on the counter and washed her hands as they girls paraded into the kitchen.

“Well, should I put his ice cream in the freezer if he's not home?” Hannah asked.

Megan bit back a reply. He didn't deserve the treat they bought. But she needed to keep a united front. That's what all the parenting books say when it comes to raising your teens.

Instead she grabbed his sundae from the counter and placed it in the freezer herself. There. Now he can't say she didn't think of him.

“How about we take our ice cream outside? It's a beautiful night and it's too stuffy in the house.”

Alexis stood at the kitchen table where she’d dumped out the contents of her school bag and sorted through it.

“What are you looking for?” Megan brought a sundae to her daughter and set it beside her. A scowl filled Alexis' face as she tore through all the papers.

“Mr. Morley sent a note home for you. It's the last week of school. You'd think he'd let up a bit,” she grumbled.

She held a white envelope with Mr. & Mrs. Taylor scrawled across the front. As soon as Megan took hold of the envelope, Alexis dug into her ice cream.

“Why don't you eat that outside with us?” Megan headed outside with her own sundae in one hand and the envelope in the other. She wasn’t too concerned about the letter. There were only a few more days of school left. What could possibly be wrong?

The silence between the three at the patio table spoke volumes. Megan enjoyed her hot fudge sundae. She loved the taste of the chocolate on her tongue and made sure she savored each spoonful. Alexis inhaled her butterscotch sundae, while Hannah dipped her spoon into the ice cream with delicate precision. She was usually the last to finish.

The white envelope, discarded on the table, caught Megan’s attention. Alexis hadn't brought home a letter from her teacher in quite a long time.

“You're not going to read that in front of her, are you?” Alexis pointed towards Hannah with her spoon.

“Alex!”

“What? It's personal. I don't want her to hear.” Alexis shrugged her shoulders. Hannah stuck her tongue out.

“Hannah.”

“Alright, alright. I'll go inside.” Hannah stood and gathered the trash.

Megan waited for a nod from Alexis before opened the envelope. Since it was the last week of school, she doubted Mr. Morely would have anything negative to say.

She should have known better.

“Alex, what is this?” She waved it in front of Alexis, who now slouched in her chair, her arms folded and her head down.

“Is it about today?”

“Of course it is, you know that.” Megan's blood pressure rose as she looked at the letter in her hands. She had to remember to breathe, in and out, in and out.

“I didn't mean it.” Alex peeked up at Megan.

“But you said it.” Oh God, how would she deal with this now?

Dear Mr & Mrs. Taylor;

An incident occurred today after school that I wanted to bring to your attention.

Words were said between Alexis and a fellow classmate. Alexis brought the incident to my attention, but also said something to me that raises my concern.

Has she ever said to you that she wished it were her that was taken instead your other daughter?

Alexis has made a tremendous effort this year and her attitude has improved, but I wonder if seeing a child psychologist would benefit her in dealing with her emotions. There is one that I recommend if you would like to pursue this.

I know this has been a difficult time for you, but I am concerned for your daughter.

She placed the letter back in the envelope and laid it down on the table. Her heart fluttered with unease.

“Alex, honey, why...how could you even wish this? Do you think ... you don't think ... that I love you less than Emma, do you?”

She reached across the table and laid her hand on her daughter's arm. It was cold to the touch. Alexis unfolded her arms and grabbed onto Megan's hand for a moment before she let it go.

“But you do love her more.”

Megan's heart twisted. She didn't know how to answer without hurting her daughter even more.

Alexis' chair scraped along the wood deck as she pushed it back and stood.

“Seriously, its fine, Mom, you don't have to explain. You love us all the same, yadda yadda.” She stomped away in a huff, wrenched open the patio door and turned.

“Sometimes I just wish you could love me more. That's all. Not all the time. Just sometimes. More than Emma.”

Megan reached her hand out and caught her daughter's arm before she entered the house.

“I do love you, Alexis. I love you more than life. If it were you that were missing, I would be doing every single thing that I could to find you. Everything. Just like I am for Emma.”

Alexis' back straightened and a light shone in her eye. Megan knew that light. Alexis was ready for a fight.

“Yeah, but would you forget about Emma if she were here and I wasn't?”

Megan’s stomach clenched as if she'd been sucker punched in the gut.

“What? Why you would you say that?” She gasped, fought for her breath as her daughter stood there. The light in her eyes shone brighter.

“'Cause it's the truth. Isn't it. Ever since Emma disappeared, it's like you forgot that I was here still.” Alexis shrugged her shoulder. “It’s okay, Mom. You don't have to worry about me. I've got Dad. At least he loves me.” Megan flinched at Alex’s scathing look.

Megan stood helpless as her daughter walked away. The patio door stood open. She cringed with each stomp up the stairs Alexis made. When her music blared through the open windows, Megan covered her ears. She wanted to block out the sound.

Hannah stood by the kitchen table. Megan reached for her, wanted to hold her close. She prayed Hannah didn't feel the same way. Her daughter didn't move. She just stood there, sorrow etched in her eyes. Megan took a step towards her, but Hannah shook her head.

“You can't ignore everything, Mom. I try to fill in the gap, but I’m just a kid.” She turned and walked away.

Megan stood there, with her hand stretched out. She'd been left alone.

Where was Peter? How dare he leave her alone to deal with this? It was after nine o'clock at night. Why wasn't he home yet? He hadn't called, hadn't emailed or answered any of her texts she sent him on her walk along the beach that evening. On their way home, the girls wanted to stop at the office to give him his ice cream, but his truck wasn't there.

Only one thought came to mind. There was only one place he could be. One place he would go to if he thought our marriage was over. HER house.

Megan’s heart broke. If he was there, it was all her fault.

*****

The porch swing creaked as Megan stared into the night sky. It was almost midnight and she was still alone. The night breeze kissed the skin at the back of her neck. She tugged the blanket wrapped around her body tighter with one hand. The other held a cup of lukewarm mint tea.