Finding Emma

by Steena Holmes

  “Dottie, hurry up woman. What's taking you so long?”

  “I can't find it,” Dottie's yelled. Jack found Dottie in the front room tearing apart the closet.

  “What can't you find, love?” Jack stood behind her and peered into the closet. She was pushing shoes and boots aside on the floor.

  “My purse. I can't find my purse.” She leaned back and blew a strand piece of hair out of her face. Jack leaned down to grasp her hand and hauled her up so she was back on her feet.

  “Where did you last see it?”

  Dottie rubbed her face. “I don't know. I don't remember. I just can't find it.”

  Jack glanced around the room. “Are you sure you looked everywhere?”

  It was obvious she'd already looked for her purse in the living room. It had been torn to shreds. Pillows that would sit in the corner of the couch were now on the floor. Her wool had been dumped out of her knitting bag and some of the balls had rolled off the chair. Streams of yarn now crisscrossed on the floor.

  “What about the kitchen?” He pulled Dottie along behind him.

  “I've already looked. I just don't know where it is!”

  Dottie's hand fisted while Jack held it. Not good. He made Dottie sit at the kitchen table and with gentle pressure he massaged her neck. Her head dropped as he worked his magic. Maybe if she just relaxed for a few minutes she would remember.

  “Things were busy last night when we came home. Emmie was pretty hyped up from the fair and Daisy made a mess in the kitchen. I'm sure you just set it down somewhere. You've just forgotten, that's all,” Jack said.

  Dottie's head shot up and she pulled her body forward, out of Jack's hands.

  “I don't just forget, Jack,” she said. Her mouth had set in a straight line as she twisted her head to look at him. He backed away while holding his hands up.

  “Yes, Dottie. You do. Lately, you've been forgetting more and more. Remember this morning, when you asked me if we were going to the fair today? We did that yesterday,” Jack said.

  Dottie shook her head. “No we didn't. We're going now. That's why I need my purse. You gave me the tickets to hold on to, and they are in my purse.”

  “No, love, that was yesterday.” Jack said.

  Maybe it was time to go back to the doctor.

  Dottie's shoulders slumped. Jack took a quick peek out the kitchen window. Emmie sat on the grass with Daisy in her lap. He started to open the kitchen cupboards. Maybe Emmie hid the purse as a joke. When he looked back at the kitchen table, Dottie's head hung low and her shoulder's shook. He walked over, sat in the chair beside her and took her hands.

  “I miss her, Jack. So much so that it hurts. I'm empty without her.” Tears ran down Dottie's face. Jack leaned forward and wiped them away.

  “I miss her too.” Jack knew she was talking about their daughter.

  Dottie lifted her tear stained face. The sorrow written in her eyes broke Jack's heart.

  “I never told you. I always meant to tell you,” she reached up and stroked his face. “I'm so sorry.”

  Jack covered that hand with his. These little trips into the past were happening more frequently. It worried Jack. She was becoming more meshed in the life they once had then the life they now live.

  “I know you miss her, it’s okay.” He was at a loss anymore on how to help his wife and it really bothered him.

  Dottie shook her head. “No, Jack. You don't understand.”

  “Understand what? What don't I understand?”

  Dottie pulled her hand away and fiddled with the basket of Emmie's stuff on the table. She looked everywhere but at him.

  “I know we promised to never keep secrets from each other. I didn't mean to. I just ... my mind gets all muddled ...” Dottie's body trembled.

  Jack's heart broke. He knew the secret Dottie carried. He knew, but he never confessed it to her. Some secrets are better left unsaid.

  “It's okay, love. It is okay. You don't have to say anymore,” he said. He took a deep breath. “I already know.”

  “How do you know? How?” A glazed look filled Dottie's eyes, her brows furrowed. Jack knew she didn't understand what he was saying.

  “Why don't you tell me, love. Tell me your secret.”

  Dottie's voice could barely be heard as she confessed. With each word she whispered, the crack in Jack's heart widened until the pain became so intense he thought it would shatter.

  “She's dead Jack. Our Mary is dead.”

  A small cry filled the room. Jack's head whipped up. Emmie stood at the screen door.

  With speed he didn't know possible in his old age, Jack rushed to the door. He gathered Emmie in his arms, crushed her to his chest as the tears ran down his cheeks. She didn't need to hear this. Not here, not now. Emmie's arms tightened around Jack's neck.

  “It’s okay, Papa. I know my Mommy’s in heaven,” Emmie whispered in his ear.

  Jack's eyes closed as he held on tight. Dottie's quiet sobs filled the kitchen, but all Jack saw in his mind’s eye was his daughter at Emmie's age, as she danced in their front yard. Emmie reminded him of his daughter in so many ways. As he held her close, he whispered a silent prayer that if he couldn't have his daughter, at least he could have his granddaughter.

  “Why don't you go run up to your room, okay? Let me talk with grandma for a few minutes and then I'll be up and we can talk.”

  Jack kissed the top of her head and set her back down on the floor. He watched her give Dottie a hug and then climb the steps to her room. It wasn't until he heard her bedroom door close that he sat back down at the table.

  “I already knew, Dottie. I called the half-way house and they told me.”

  The memory of that phone call hit Jack full force. When he found out that his daughter was dead, his heart just about broke. The only thing that kept him going was Emmie.

  “They told you? Why did you call them?” Fear filled Dottie's eyes. There was something she didn't want him to know. What could be worse than keeping their daughter's death a secret?

  Jack explained with painful patience why he called the half-way house. He confessed the ache in his heart for Mary and the thought that if he could just hear her voice, or even leave a note letting her know he cared, that the ache would diminish. The counselor at the home told him that Mary had been very sick. Whether from the drugs or disease, Jack didn't think to ask. She’d been dead for over two years now. At Mary's request, they didn't contact any family until after her cremation. They used money Jack had sent to cover the cost.

  “You must hate me,” Dottie said once Jack fell silent.

  “How could I hate you? We've been through too much Dottie-mine, for me to ever hate you. I wish you had told me, I wish that you could have confided in me. You shouldn't have had to deal with that all on your own,” Jack said. No, he didn't hate. He never could.

  “Why didn't you tell me, Dottie? Why didn't you tell me when you brought Emmie home?” He tried to wrap his mind around that, but he couldn't. No matter the various scenarios he thought of, none of them made sense.

  Dottie's head shot up. A horror stricken look covered her face.

  “Because I couldn't remember. I couldn't remember Jack. I couldn't remember...” Dottie's fist hit her head, over and over as she said the words.

  Jack grabbed at her fists and struggled with her. She pulled away from him.

  How could she not remember? Her memory wasn't that bad back then. That's when it hit Jack. That was at the time Dottie's memory started to slip. They had gone to the doctor and they began to play around with the various medicines and dosages to help her. There was one point where things were really bad, when her memory wasn't there at all. The doctor readjusted the dosage until she was back to normal. That was right around the time Dottie brought Emmie home.

  “Of course you do, Dottie. You remember the day you brought Emmie home, right? How happy you were when you walked in the door? I'll never forget that day. Emmie held onto your hand so tight, but your face, ah,
your face was aglow. You remember that day, don't you?” Jack needed her to remember.

  Dottie nodded her head. “I remember being so happy. When I found her, alone on the street, all it took was one look for me to know she was Mary's daughter. She looks so much like her, doesn't she?” A soft smile settled on Dottie’s face. She retreated, back into the past, to the day that Emmie came home. Jack couldn't let her. He couldn't lose her, not now. Now when she was so clear headed.

  “On the street?” Jack prodded her. He needed her to focus, to stay with him in the present. Jack needed her to remember.

  “Dottie, you said you found her on the street? Was that in front of the half-way house where Mary stayed?”

  Dottie didn't answer. Tears shimmered in her eyes, her lips pursed as her fingers clenched together.

  She twisted her hands together and closed her eyes. Jack gave her a minute. He needed her to remember.

  “Then where did I get Mary?” Dottie asked, her eyes still closed.

  “Emmie, you mean Emmie.”

  Startled, Dottie gasped. “Of course I mean Emmie. Jack, what are you thinking?”

  Jack stared out the window. His world crumbled all around him and he felt helpless to do anything about it. He wished the blinders were still on, that he didn’t see what was before him. His heart broke as he struggled with the truth that stared him directly in the eyes.

  “I think...I think that you're struggling with your memory more and more each day and that we need to go back to the doctor. It's been a while. You missed your last few appointments. You promised you would reschedule, but you haven't. Do you still have any more pills or are you empty?”

  Dottie's head twisted back and forth, as she denied what he was suggesting. He knew she would. She hated going to the doctor. She always had.

  “I don't need a doctor. I'm fine.” She looked into his eyes, and he knew he'd lost her. She was gone.

  “Come on, let's get Mary and go to the fair. You know how she loves the fair,” Dottie said as she pushed her chair back to stand. Jack grabbed onto her hand and wouldn't let go.

  “Emmie, Dottie. Emmie. Our granddaughter. We took her to the fair yesterday. Right now, she's up in her room. She heard about Mary, Dottie. Emmie knows that her mom is dead.”

  A wave of sadness flowed out of Jack as he said the words. His granddaughter. The weight of the world crashed down upon his shoulders. He was afraid. More afraid then he'd ever been in his life, even when he was in the army.

  Dottie sank in her chair. Her body shook with force as a sob tore through her throat. If Jack had been anywhere but next to Dottie, he would have thought the feral sound to be something from a horror movie.

  “I'm so sorry, Jack. I'm so sorry.”

  *****

  Jack stood in the doorway and watched his granddaughter. His heart swelled, with love, heartache and a sadness he couldn't understand. He wasn't a stranger to death, in the war it became a constant companion. But not like this. This, he wouldn't wish on his best friend.

  Emmie was hunched over her little table. She'd placed her stuffed animals all around her in a circle. Jack couldn't see what she was doing, but he imagined she was coloring a picture.

  Jack coughed and Emmie looked up. A sad smile settled on her face.

  “Hey, Princess,” Jack said. His voice croaked out the words.

  “Hi,” Emmie said. She bent her head again, focused on whatever she was doing.

  “Can I sit down?” Jack took a step into the room. He wasn't sure what to expect. He had just left Dottie in their room after he managed to get her to lay down for a bit. He just hoped that it would help her to calm down.

  Emmie moved a stuffed animal off the chair that sat beside her. She didn't say anything. He peered over the animals to see what she was doing. A piece of paper lay before her. On it, she had colored a large castle that sat on a sparkling white cloud.

  Emmie watched him as he took in her picture. When he glanced up, he noticed there were unshed tears in her eyes. He swiped at his face, erasing any evidence of his own tears.

  “It is okay, Papa. I'm just a little sad,” Emmie's quiet voice soothed the ache in his heart.

  He didn't understand this gift God presented to him. He came upstairs to help comfort his granddaughter, not for her to comfort him.

  “I'm sad too.” Jack admitted. More sad than he would ever have imagined.

  “Do you like my picture, Papa?” Emmie's hand hovered over the picture, a pink crayon cradled in her fingers.

  “It's very beautiful. I think that's the best castle I've seen yet.”

  “It's Mommy's castle in heaven. She loves flowers, so I made sure I drew lots. And here's the swing, Papa, just like the one you made when she was a little girl. Grandma told me how much she used to like to swing in it.” Emmie drew another flower beside the castle.

  Jack couldn't answer. He didn't know what to say.

  The silence in the room reigned supreme. A whisper of a breeze fluttered through the room along with the soft chirps of the robin nestled in the tree outside of Emmie's room.

  “Papa?” Emmie's voice broke through the quiet.

  “Yes, Princess?”

  “Are my sisters with her?” Emmie's brow furrowed together.

  The question shocked Jack. This wasn't the first time Emmie had brought up these imagined sisters. He didn't know how to answer her.

  “What sisters, Emmie?”

  “My sisters. Grandma doesn’t like me to talk about them. She said that it’s foolish talk. Does she not like me talking about them 'cause they are in heaven with Mommy and Daddy?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  If we had paid as little attention to our plants as we do our children, we would be amazed at the jungle we found ourselves in.

  It was a saying Dottie's mother loved to repeat while she shadowed her children in the garden. Dottie muttered it to herself now as she crouched amongst the rows in her garden and plucked at the tiny sprouts that grew beneath the plants.

  She poked her head above the plants and checked on Emmie. She couldn't help but smile. Emmie threw a stick and tried to get Daisy to chase it, but no matter how hard she tried, that little dog was determined not to learn to fetch. Dottie chuckled. At least it kept the girl occupied.

  She bent back down and reached for another bundle of weeds, when she heard a pop. She'd reached too far, and her back cracked. With a groan, Dottie struggled to stand. A sharp pressure built up on the one side of her back. She twisted to the side in an attempt to crack her back again. It took a few minutes, but the moment she heard another pop, the pressure released. She sighed. Old age wasn't all it was cut out to be. Retirement wasn't as relaxing as she thought it would be either.

  As she stood up, she noticed Emmie wasn't where she had played a few minutes ago. Dottie took a deep breath, but it was difficult. Emmie had to be around, she couldn't have gone far. She wouldn't lose her too. As she stepped over her plants to reach the far side of the garden, Emmie's giggle, along with Daisy's bark, sounded to her right. With a hand raised over her eyes, she searched the hill that led to the neighbors’ house. I should have known.

  Emmie stood at the fence while Daisy jumped around.

  “Emmie,” Dottie called. She knew she scowled, but the girl knew better than just to take off.

  “Over here, Grandma.” Emmie waved her hand.

  Dottie took a few steps towards the hill. Her knees creaked. Even though it was only a small incline, she didn't think her knees could make it up. She stopped at the bottom of the hill, and was just about to call her granddaughter to her side when Sherri, the neighbor, came to the fence. She waved. Dottie waved back. It was the polite thing to do, after all.

  “Can Emmie play with the girls?” Sherri shouted down to her.

  Dottie closed her eyes. A sudden wave of dizziness hit her. She wobbled on her feet. Jack, where was Jack? She looked behind her, but the truck was gone. Where was he?

  “Grandma?”

  Dott
ie's eyes widened. Emmie. Where was she? Her head whipped back and forth, but she couldn't see her.

  “Grandma!”

  Dottie glanced down. There she was, at her feet. She closed her eyes as another burst of dizziness sent the world spinning around her.

  “Can I go play, please?” Emmie pulled at her hand.

  Dottie made an effort to listen to her. Play? Play where? She looked up and noticed her neighbor waving at her. Dottie waved back and then dropped her hand. She'd already done that, didn't she?

  Dottie nodded her head. All Dottie wanted to do was sit down in her chair and close her eyes. Maybe then the world would stop spinning. Emmie let go of her hand and ran off. Dottie watched as Sherri walked to the gate on her side of the yard and took Emmie's hand.

  “Thanks!” Sherri called down.

  Dottie brought her hand up to her waist and gave a half-hearted wave. She took a step forward and the gravel driveway pitched to the left. Her arms went out, for balance. She brought her foot back down and waited for everything to go back to normal.

  A wave of dust appeared on the road out front. With the dry weather and lack of rain, their country dirt road was dry. Whenever a car drove down their side road, a trail of dust announced its presence way before you actually saw the vehicle.

  Dottie hoped it was Jack. She needed Jack. He’d run down to a neighbors’ house down the way for a tool he needed. But he’d been gone too long.

  Dottie crossed her arms as she waited to see if it were Jack’s truck. She shielded her eyes with her hand when the vehicle approached. But it wasn’t Jack’s truck. It was a dark car. It slowed as it neared her house.

  A nervous flutter overtook Dottie’s stomach. She stepped backwards. Something about the car ... didn’t police cars look like that?

  She felt a moment of fear. As the car slowed to a crawl, Dottie knew that something was wrong, very wrong. Her nostrils flared as she fought the panic that threatened to overtake her. She could feel it bubbling up. Her hands shook first, then her arms.

  “No, no ...” Dottie said as she turned and hurried towards the house.