Finding Emma
Page 7
“There is a forensic artist that works with our department. I know Emma's birthday is coming up, so I requested an updated sketch.”
“Yesterday,” Megan whispered into the phone.
“I'm sorry?”
“Yesterday,” Megan said again. “Emma's birthday was yesterday.” There was a pause on the phone. A slight ruffling of papers could be heard in the background.
“Right, yesterday. I'm sorry, I knew that. I wanted to let you know that I have new age-progressed sketches of Emma. I can drop them by if you like? Her picture has already been updated on the national website. The new circulation of her photo on the milk cartons will also start,” more paper shuffles sounded, “yesterday actually.”
Megan stood and walked down the stone pathway to the back of the yard. Years ago, she'd planted a flower garden along the fence. There were a few stragglers that persisted in flowering. Maybe she should think about buying some plants this year. A good summer project for Alexis.
“You mean sketches of how she would look now, right?” Megan asked. When Emma had first disappeared, they’d placed her photo on the milk jugs. They’d received a lot of phone calls, but nothing that could pinpoint where Emma was. Maybe this time would be different. At the very least, it was nice to know she wasn't the only one trying to find Emma.
“Right. Would you and Peter be available this evening? I could drop them off for you to look at.”
Megan's hand shook with a slight tremor. She started to count to three. One - breathe in. Two - breathe out. Three - open your eyes.
Tempted by the thought of seeing her daughter's face, of how she would look today pulled at her. Would she have made the same mistake at the donut shop if she'd already seen the pictures? That little girl's face, the expression in her eyes haunted Megan. She should have known better. She should have made sure, really sure, that it was Emma before she grabbed the little girl's hand.
But then she thought of what was in store for tonight. How she needed to be honest with Peter. Having the man she almost turned to for comfort come over when she had to break the news to Peter that she'd broken another promise, probably wasn't a smart move.
“No Riley, I'm afraid tonight's not a good night.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Pretty little dandelion all dressed in yellow, let's make a necklace for the pretty princess,” Emmie sang. Dandelion heads filled her lap as she made a chain to go around her neck. Such pretty flowers. Papa called them 'those pesky weeds', but she thought they were cute. She had one chain already made. Daisy had it around her neck. She should make one for Grandma. That might make her happy.
Daisy barked, and her little yaps increased as she fought to take off the chain.
“Shh, Daisy. Shhhh. Don't wake up Grandma.” She leaned forward to grab Daisy, but her hands ended up empty. Oh, Daisy.
Emmie glanced around the yard. A big tire leaned against a tree. Papa promised he'd make her a swing. Maybe when he was home. She looked out to the driveway and down to the road, but Papa's truck wasn't there. Emmie's body wilted under the warm sun. I wish Papa would hurry.
“Pssst, little girl!”
Startled, Emmie jumped. The dandelion fell out of her lap and she squished a few under her feet as she stood. She looked around. Who called her?
“Hey, friend, over here!”
A hand waved to her through the fence behind Grandma's garden. Her friend!
“Shhhhh,” Emmie called out, her voice just above a whisper. She didn't want Grandma to hear. Emmie skipped over to the fence, the grass tickled the bottoms of her feet along the way. She stopped at the edge of the garden. Daisy barked hello. Emmie sank to her knees, grabbed Daisy and hugged her close. Daisy licked Emmie's face. Emmie giggled as Daisy’s wet tongue tickled her nose and cheeks. Holding Daisy was hard, she kept squirming in her arms.
“Hi, friend!” A hand stuck out of the fence and waved to her.
Emmie stuck her face close to the fence boards and smiled. Her friend looked pretty today. Emmie liked her dress - it was a bright yellow with pink dots all over. Emmie glanced down at her own dress. Pink with yellow flowers. They matched. Emmie giggled. Her friend giggled too. Daisy dropped out of her arms and stuck her nose through the fence.
“Friend, I got you this,” the little girl said. She stuck a frozen lollipop through the fence. It dripped down the handle. Emmie wrinkled her nose before she took the treat. Daisy jumped up, licked it and then sat. She looked so cute with her head tilted like that. Emmie squealed in delight. Daisy sat! “Good girl, Daisy. Good girl!” Emmie kneeled down and let her lick the lollipop as a reward.
“Your puppy is cute.”
Emmie looked up to find her new friend reaching to pet Daisy, so she pushed her closer, but Daisy didn't want to move.
“Friend, can you come play? We can go on the swings. They're fun. Please?”
Emmie stepped to the side so she could look through the fence without her friend being in the way. Their backyard looked like fun. A picnic table, a sandbox and swings. Emmie glanced behind her to the tire swing propped up against the tree and then back to the real swings. She wished she could go over. Why wouldn't Grandma let her? It wasn't fair. Grandma was never a kid. Emmie shook her head. Grandma was so old.
She plopped herself down and picked at the long grass that grew against the fence. Emmie plucked a few dandelions but didn't want to take them all. They looked pretty.
“I can't,” she said to the girl, “my grandma said I could only play in our yard.” Her friend dropped to the ground, arranged her skirt to cover her knees and smiled.
“Okay. So do you want to play a game?”
“Eye spy?” Emmie loved to play games. Her Mommy used to play this with her.
The girl on the other side of the fence clapped her hands together. “I go first! I spy with my little eye something that is yellow.”
Emmie looked around her. “Is it the dandelion?”
“Nope.”
Emmie looked at her friend's dress. A smile lit her face. “Your dress!”
“Nuh uh.”
Emmie scrunched up her face. Papa said it makes you think better. He also said if you rub your head or scratch your chin that would work too. She thought and thought, looking around but she couldn't see anything else that was yellow. Daisy barked behind her and she jumped up. Emmie turned. Maybe Daisy just chased after a bee. Daisy stood on the gravel driveway, her little tail wagging. On the other side of the driveway stood Grandma. With her arms folded. Uh oh.
“Gotta go,” Emmie whispered in a rush as she fluffed away the grass bits left on her dress. Grandma didn't like her to get her pretty dresses dirty. She took a step down the small hill that led to the driveway. Her friend’s voice stopped her.
“It's the pretty flowers on your dress,” she said. Emmie smiled. Her friend liked her dress. She skipped down the hill until her feet met the rocks in the driveway. They always hurt her feet when she skipped across them. Papa said he would smooth it out and take away some of the rocks, but that was a project for another day. He always said that.
She tiptoed, careful not to step on any rocks. Grandma stood at the door, holding it open for her. She wasn't smiling.
Emmie pursed her lips together. She was in trouble. With her head bowed, she tried to think of a way to make Grandma smile. As long as she smiled, everything would be okay. She held out her hand. In her fist was a pretty bunch of flowers. Grandma liked her flowers. She looked up into the face of the woman who loved her more than life. More than life, that's what Grandma always said.
Grandma smiled. “I think I have the perfect vase for these. What do you think, Emmie? Where should we place them?”
*****
With the thickly twinned rope looped around his arm, Jack waited for the door at the Kinrich Hardware store to work its way open. They had installed this new automatic door two years ago. Since then he'd been waiting to see why it was so much better than the old door the store used to have. In the time it to
ok for the door to open enough for him to squeeze through, he could have been sitting in his truck with the old door. That's the problem with this generation, always trying to find the next new thing. Jack shook his head. Sometimes older was better.
As Jack wound his way down the lot to his pickup, the owner of the store pulled up in his new red, Ram 3500. The thing sparkled in the sun. Jack whistled under his breath as he nodded his head in greeting. Little Chris O'Donnell, the skinny redhead kid who used to bug Jack in the summer had grown into a Mr. Hotshot. Not so skinny anymore. When he took over the store after his dad had a stroke out in the cornfield, the boy's girth grew as the years passed. Jack doubted he even lent a hand to his mom and brothers on the farm. The only thing good enough for this boy was money. Just like the rest of his generation.
He tossed the coiled rope into the box and watched as a puff of dust pillowed into the air. His old Ford might not be shiny and new as Mr. Hotshot's, but it worked just fine. His old Ford had seen more, driven further and pulled its share of weight in the years since Jack bought it. They don't build them like this anymore. No sirree. Jack banged the side and grunted. The only thing ole Betty needed was a good scrubbin'. Maybe he'd do that before supper.
He looked across the lot, to the donut shop. Only a handful of vehicles littered the parking area. He didn't see any of the boys’ trucks there. Guess he'd missed them. Still, he drove over to grab a box of donut holes he'd promised his grand-baby. Emmie loved the tasty treats, especially the chocolate and strawberry filled ones. He drove around to the other side to the drive thru entrance and found the missing trucks. He shook his head. He pulled into an empty stall and went inside.
“Wondered when you'd get here, the boys are getting impatient,” the waitress at the counter said as Jack entered the store. The tiny bells above the door jingled as the door closed behind him.
“Well, I can't be that late, if they stuck around, now can I?” Jack watched her pour him a cup of black coffee. He gestured to the donut holes sitting on the bottom shelf, “I'll take some of those too when I leave.”
Jack looked at the far booth in the corner. Both the boys, Doug and Kenny were slouched over their coffees as they stared at him. He'd known the men since childhood. They were closer to him than his own brothers. Jack made a trip into town once a week just to have coffee with them. Doug tapped the watch on his hand. Jack shrugged his shoulder and turned back to the counter.
“I might as well get a honey dip too. Can't let these boys eat alone.”
“Where've you been? Figured you weren’t comin’ into town this week. Dougie and I have been sitting here like a herd of cows mowin' down on the grass,” said Kenny as Jack set his coffee and plate down on the table. He pulled a chair over from one of the other tables and sat down.
Jack grunted. “Workin’ on the honey-do list. Thought you boys would have been long gone by now.”
Jack took a sip of his coffee and peered over the rim. His was the only full cup. Black circles rimmed the other two empty cups on the table.
He looked at Doug. With his salt and pepper hair all over the place, he looked old.
“So when are you going to bring that grandbaby of yours in with you?” Doug asked as he leaned back in his chair and tilted his head down to look over the top of his glasses at Jack.
“Yeah, thought you were bringing her in today. Otherwise, I would have left long ago. I got fish to catch, you know.” Kenny played with the empty cup in front of him.
Jack shrugged his shoulders. Dottie had been steadfast in her refusal to let him bring Emmie today. She never let that girl out of her sight. Didn't make sense to him. Little girls need more than just tea parties and play dates with teddy bears and dolls.
“Dottie still protective?”
Jack glanced up at Doug, surprised he'd figured it out so fast. Shouldn't have been though. Doug knew Dottie almost as well as Jack did. Almost. And it was a fact Jack didn't like.
“Said she had plans to make cookies with her today. Maybe next week.”
Unsure of why he felt the need to protect Dottie, Jack was even more surprised to find himself lying. Doug only nodded, which irritated him for some odd reason. No doubt, Doug knew he was lying.
“You takin’ her to the Hanton Fair this weekend? Heard the Ferris wheel was new,” said Kenny.
Jack had forgotten all about the fair. Living out in the country with no paper delivery, it was easy to forget life carried on around you. He had wanted to take Emmie last year but it never happened. Something about Emmie having a cold and not feeling well. Jack never heard her cough, but Dottie knew best. He'd mentioned the fair to her a few weeks ago when the posters first started coming out but she didn't seem too interested, so Jack pushed it out of his mind. Until now.
“Thinkin' about it. It’s been awhile since we made our way over there. We never made it to the one last year.”
Doug grunted beside him and stretched his arms up over his head. “Well, time for me to go find a wife to feed those animals of mine. I'm getting old you know and all this hard labour is wearin' me down.” The wrinkles in his face widened as he smiled and showed his side gold tooth.
Kenny laughed. “Headed to bingo are we? Is Ms. Hot Pants going to be there?”
Jack smirked as he watched Doug's face go from a grin to a frown in thirty seconds. Single his whole life, it wasn't until a few months ago Doug decided to get over his lost love and find someone else before it was too late. About time too. He'd better hurry, old men like them don't often find love in their old age.
“That's Mrs. Weatherall to you,” Doug pointed a finger at Kenny. “And at least I'm doing something instead of complaining all day about how hard bachelorhood is.” Doug pursed his mouth the moment he said that. He'd just crossed the line, and they all knew it.
Kenny stood up, grabbed his cup and plate and walked away. Jack looked at Doug whose eyes followed Kenny. He looked lost. Jack turned and watched Kenny hand his dirty dishes to the waitress at the counter and walk out, never once looking back at his two friends. He shook his head. Not good.
“Aww, man, that was stupid. Why did I say it?” Doug muttered as he watched Kenny climb into his truck and drive away. Jack felt sorry for him. “I blew it, didn't I?” Doug sank into the chair, his shoulders fell with a dejected air.
“Nah, nothing that can't be fixed,” Jack said. He cleared his throat and took a swig of his warm coffee. The donut sat there untouched. “Guess today wasn't a good day for him. Anything happen?”
Doug glanced up. “Nothing out of the ordinary. His mind is going, his body is getting old and there’s nothing he can do about it. Guess his doctor wants him to go on some new type of medication, but Kenny’s not going for it. He outlived everyone else in his family and figured if it’s his time to go, then it’s time. I told him I wasn’t ready,” Doug shrugged his shoulders. “There’s not many left of the old gang. You barely come into town anymore, and life at the old lodge isn’t what it used to be. One can only play bingo for so long.”
Jack nodded his head. He understood what Kenny was going through. With Dottie’s dementia, the doctor kept forcing all these new pills on her. If it wasn’t for Emmie ... losing a child does strange things to a mother’s mind. Jack thought about Dottie and how she kept mixing up Emmie’s name. Too many times she’d call her Mary. Sure, she looked like Mary as a child, but still. Ever since she brought Emmie home, her memory continued to slip. It scared him. He didn’t want to end up alone, with a small child to raise.
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 a
nd 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.