She didn’t understand this sudden flight of panic. All she knew was that she needed Jack. The vehicle on the road stopped in front of Dottie’s driveway. Dottie edged away, so that if whoever was in the vehicle were to look, they wouldn’t see her.
She turned her back and was hit with a pain so fierce in her head that she stumbled over the gravel under her foot. She held her arms out for balance and realized she was seeing double. She glanced back to the road. The car had moved on, still slow, but now at her neighbor’s driveway. Maybe they were looking at the mailboxes. She should tell Jack. He would know what was going on.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Dottie managed to move her shaky limbs into the house. She grabbed hold of a kitchen chair and sank her weary body down. When she closed her eyes, things stayed still.
She took a few deep breathes to calm herself. She didn't understand why she was so dizzy. If everything would just stay still, in one spot, she would be okay. She had too much to do today. With that thought in mind, Dottie rose from her seat and glanced around her kitchen. There was something she was supposed to do.
A bowl sat on the kitchen counter with a tea cloth over top. Dottie stared at it for a few moments before she remembered that she had left the bread dough to rise earlier. She took a few tentative steps to the counter, unsure if she would get dizzy from the movement or not. She felt odd. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she'd never felt like this before.
Dazed, Dottie repeated a process she knew by heart. She placed the dough on the counter and worked the air out of it. She didn't pay attention to the rhythmic motion; instead, she glanced around her kitchen. Something was wrong. Something was missing. Emmie. Emmie was missing.
A squeal of laughter sounded outside. It was Emmie. Dottie’s heart pounded. Where was Emmie? She searched her yard through the window and remembered that Emmie was with the neighbor. A wave of relief flowed through Dottie as the initial panic wore off. Emmie was okay. Emmie was okay. All that mattered to Dottie was Emmie.
Dottie's fists crushed the dough, over and over. Tears drift down her face. Her hands start to hurt from the repeated motion, but she couldn't stop. She tried to stop, to step away, but it felt like something had taken over her body and controlled it. A sharp pain pierced through her head. She cried out in anguish and crumpled to the ground. She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't work now.
*****
Jack pulled into the driveway, parked the truck off to the side and looked around the yard. All was quiet. Dottie must be inside with Emmie and the dog. Jack picked up the treat he'd picked up in town and headed towards the house. He hoped the little cupcakes he found at the downtown bakery put a smile on Emmie's face.
When he entered the house, he heard a low mumble type sound. The radio must be on.
“Dottie?” he called out.
The low mumble continued. He dropped the bakery box on the table, along with his keys and walked into the front room. It was empty. He stood at the front door and opened the heavy wooden door. A nice breeze whisked through the house. Why hadn’t Dottie opened this earlier? She always did.
He headed back towards the kitchen. Maybe she decided to have a nap while Emmie either did the same or played in her room. He walked around the corner into the kitchen and was about to head up the stairs when he heard his name.
“Jack.”
He turned. Dottie lay on the floor, almost in a fetal position, with her head angled to the side. Her legs were curled up underneath her while her one arm was tucked under body.
He rushed over and pulled her into his arms.
“Dottie!”
The weight of her body as she lay in his arms shocked him. Dead weight. Yet, she was alive, breathing fine. Her eyes were glazed over and her mouth was slack on the right side. Stroke. Dottie was having a stroke. With a gentleness normally reserved for babies, Jack laid her back on the ground and searched the kitchen for the cordless phone.
“Emmie?” Jack called out while he searched for the phone.
It was over on the desk. He rushed to grab it and dialed 911 as he literally ran back to where Dottie lay on the ground. Her eyes shot him a desperate look. His heart wrenched while the love of his life lay there helpless.
Assured that the ambulance was on its way, he cradled Dottie in his arms and shouted for Emmie again. She must be sleeping. Please God, don't let her come down here. Not yet.
“Jack … dust … up,” Dottie whispered. Her voice was agitated. She mumbled words he couldn't understand, words that didn’t make sense.
“Shh, sweetheart. It's okay. Shh.”
Jack struggled to keep his composure as he comforted his wife. The drive from town to their house took about twelve minutes. He hoped the ambulance could make it in five. He'd never been so scared before. Nothing compared to this. Nothing.
Dottie struggled to move. He swept her arm from beneath her waist and Dottie sighed. It must have been hurting her. Why didn't he notice it earlier? He kept an eye on his watch while he continued to try to soothe Dottie. She moaned and mumbled, her words were no longer distinguishable. It scared him. Slight tremors would travel along her body, from her legs up to her head. The moment she began to shake, he'd tighten his hold on her. The sweat that beaded on his forehead trickled down.
Through the windows, Jack heard the sirens of the ambulance as they approached. He breathed a quick prayer of thanks for their swiftness. He wiped Dottie’s drool and rocked her back and forth. A sense of dread hung over him. He was at a loss of what to do.
When the ambulance arrived, Jack felt like he was stuck in a nightmare. He took his arms from around his wife and stood to the side and watched helplessly as the medics took care of his wife better than he could. He didn't take his eyes off of Dottie. Her pale complexion worried him. Please don't let her die, God please, I'll do anything.
He was startled out of his prayer by one of the paramedics.
“Sir, is your wife on any type of medication?” The man waited with pen in hand as Jack forced his eyes to leave his wife's frail body.
“Um, yes. Namenda, Zyprexa and Aricept. Sometimes she'll take ...”
Jack searched his memory for the name of the sedative their doctor prescribed. He only gave it to Dottie when she was really agitated. He didn't like its affects, how it changed her. He turned and opened the upper cupboard where he kept her medication. Where Emmie couldn't reach. He searched the pill bottles until he found the one he wanted, at the very back. He looked at the label ... Ativan ... and handed it to the medic.
“Sir, we'll have to ask you to follow us to the hospital, is that alright?”
Jack nodded his head. He needed to grab Emmie first and explain what happened. Then he'd need to pack some items for Dottie. She wouldn't appreciate waking up in the thin hospital gown and she'd need her slippers. Maybe even her knitting.
As the medics loaded Dottie in the ambulance, Jack crumbled. He grabbed onto the table for support before he stood up straight, squared his shoulders and gave himself a stern talking to. His family needed him to be strong. If he fell apart now, he'd be ashamed of himself forever.
About to head up the stairs to find Emmie, Jack stopped when a knock sounded at the door.
“Jack, is everything okay? I wanted to wait until the ambulance left until I came over, I didn't want Emmie to see and get worried.” Sherri wrung her hands as she stood there.
“Emmie's with you?”
Shocked that she wasn't up in her room like he'd thought, it took a moment before he realized that if she was at the neighbors, then Dottie must have known. Maybe that's what she was trying to tell him.
“Jack is everything okay? What happened to Dottie?” Sherri's voice shattered the confusion that reigned in Jack's mind.
He opened the door for her to come in, while he pulled out the desk drawer to find Dottie's medical information. The last time he looked in the drawer for Mary's phone number, he remembered seeing a clear plastic bag that held all the information they recei
ved from the doctor they last time they visited.
“She had a stroke. I think. I need get a bag made up for her. And Emmie. I need to get Emmie.”
In a rush, Jack pulled the desk drawer out instead of pushing in it, and everything fell to the floor. Sherri bent down to gather up all the loose papers, pens and keys that emptied onto the floor while Jack stood there and watched. The drawer reminded him of something. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but he knew it was something best left forgotten.
“Jack, let Emmie stay the night with me. She can have a sleepover with my daughter. The girls will love it. All she'll need is a nightgown and her favorite stuffed animal. Okay?”
Jack didn't know what to say. A neighbor in the disguise of an angel. Right when he needed a miracle, one knocked on his back door. Too shocked to reply, he grunted before heading upstairs, not only to pack essentials for Dottie at the hospital, but also for Emmie. She'd want her pink lion.
A thought trickled through his head as he stuffed everything into a bag. What if the neighbor wasn't the angel she appeared to be? What if, having Emmie over at her house is what caused Dottie's stroke? The worry, the stress of not having her granddaughter near could have put Dottie over the edge. Dottie's fear at losing Emmie had grown stronger the past few days.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Sherri rushed back home. She'd left the girls giggling together over a bowl of popcorn while the latest My Little Pony movie played in the background.
Both girls looked up from the movie when she opened the front door. She quenched the concern for Dottie as she held up the bag Jack had thrust into her arms before he left.
“I have a surprise,” she announced. Grins covered the girl’s faces as they looked at her. Marie, her daughter, jumped up to her knees in anticipation.
“We're going to have a sleepover party!”
Sherri placed the bag on the chair by the door and opened up her arms. Her daughter slammed into her, excitement all over her face as her breath was squeezed out of her. Sherri glanced at Emmie. She doubted the little girl had ever been away from her grandparents for longer than an hour, let alone overnight. Emmie's face was scrunched and her eyes darted to the bag on the seat. Sherri opened the bag and took out the stuffed animal Jack had stuffed in the bag. Emmie leapt up and grabbed the pink lion. She held it close to her chest as a tentative smile crept on her face.
“What do you say, Emmie? Want to have a sleepover?” Sherri asked.
Marie pulled away from Sherri, placed her hands on Sherri's cheeks and smiled.
“Sleepover?” Sherri asked her daughter. Marie nodded her head.
Sherri chuckled and gave her daughter a quick hug. If there was one thing her daughter loved, it was sleepovers. She struggled to suppress her grin as her daughter jumped from her arms over to Emmie. She flung her arms around her friend and squeezed tight. Emmie's eyes opened wide until she giggled.
“Fort, Mama?”
She needed to make this night a happy one for Emmie. It might be her last one for a while. She held up her one hand and began to list off everything the girls would do tonight. Make a fort. Bake cookies. Have a bonfire and roast marshmallows, then read a bedtime story.
Her daughter jumped high in the air, and her yell bounced off the living room walls until Emmie was forced to cover her ears with her hands. Marie grabbed Emmie's hand and pulled her upstairs. Sherri knew the bedroom was going to be a mess as the girls attempted to make their fort. She would need to remember to take pictures.
As she prepared to make dinner, loud thumps and peals of laughter drifted from her daughter's bedroom upstairs. It's so good to hear the laughter. Sherri uttered a small prayer for Dottie. A stroke. What would that mean for Jack and Emmie? Where was Emmie's mother and why wasn't she taking care of her daughter? Sherri knew she shouldn't judge, nor allow her thoughts to grow in an exaggerated form. Many elderly couples took care of their grandchildren in today's day and age. It was just sad. Grandparents were there to spoil not to raise small children.
With a pot of water on the stove to boil, and a tray of chicken nuggets in the oven to bake, Sherri poured herself a glass of iced tea and started to clean her kitchen table. Her husband wouldn't be home until after dark tonight. Matt managed the car dealership in town and often worked the night shift. Which meant, an easy dinner tailored specifically to the girls would make it an even easier night for Sherri. It was a win-win situation for everyone.
Once everything was ready, Sherri called the girls down. When there was no reply, she had a sneaky suspicion, so she climbed the stairs and stood outside the bedroom door. She couldn't believe her eyes. Not only was the fort built and the room surprisingly clean, but the girls were inside the fort and only muffled giggles could be heard. The girls had managed to empty the bed of all blankets and sheets, and with the help of Marie's desk chair, dresser drawers and desk, they managed to create a large enough space for them to sleep under.
On tiptoes, Sherri snuck into the room and lifted a corner of a bed sheet draped over the chair and peeked inside. She was smashed in the face by a pillow. With a growl, she launched her body inside the fort and grabbed a nearby pillow. After a few minutes of blows to the body and a pain in her side from laughing so hard, Sherri persuaded the girls to join her downstairs for dinner.
As Sherri dished out the plates of homemade macaroni and cheese and chicken nuggets, Marie took out the milk from the fridge and poured herself and Emmie a glass. Before Sherri could bring the plates over to the table, her daughter had already downed one full glass of milk and was in the midst of pouring herself another. Emmie just sat there, wide eyed as she watched Marie chug the milk down with superhero speed.
Emmie waited until Sherri had sat down before she reached for her milk and took a big gulp of it. Sherri smiled at her, reached for her hand and waited for her daughter to say a simple prayer of thanks for the meal. Silence reigned in the kitchen as they ate their dinner. Any time Marie would speak, Sherri marveled at how quickly Emmie recognized the need to look her daughter in the eye before she answered. Children were able to adapt and accept what adults often struggled to even notice. Her daughter's hearing disability didn't even seem to faze Emmie.
“Mama? Why is Emmie on the milk?” Marie asked
Sherri glanced up from the plate. What? Marie pointed to the milk carton that sat on the kitchen table. Sherri reached across and turned the carton so that the picture faced her. It was a Missing Children's advertisement often found on milk cartons. Sherri never really took much notice of them before.
“I'm not,” said Emmie as she continued to spoon her macaroni and cheese into her mouth.
Sherri looked at the picture on the carton back to Emmie. There was a resemblance. It was uncanny.
“It's not me,” Emmie said again, with a shake of her head. “See, my hair is longer and I have all my tooths.” She opened her mouth wide to display her teeth.
Sherri glanced back at the picture. With her two front teeth missing and her hair in a ponytail, now that she really looked at it, that little girl didn't resemble Emmie at all. Emmie was older as well, plus where were the dimples?
“Okay,” said Marie before her attention returned to her dinner.
Sherri didn't say anything.
*****
Sherri stood at the foot of the stairs and gave off a sigh of relief. It took a bit, but she finally managed to get the girls to settle down and go to sleep. The excitement level was kept high for Emmie. First sleepovers were always difficult, but the brave little girl only asked for her grandma and Papa a few times.
She checked to make sure the porch light was on for Matt. He should be home soon. She needed to talk to him about the photo on the milk jug. The campfire smoldered in the fire pit outside in the backyard. It had become a habit to sit enjoy the quiet night in the country once their daughters were in bed. She poured a tall glass of iced tea from the pitcher she’d made earlier and was about to head outside when the slam of a car door caught h
er attention. She looked out her window, but Matt's silver truck wasn't there.
With her iced tea in one hand, and cordless phone in the other, Sherri nudged the screen from the patio door open. A warm red glow emitted from the fire pit. The girls had so much fun out here earlier as they tried to toast their marshmallows. Sherri's stomach turned at the thought of all those sugary treats. Emmie wouldn't eat any of the ones that caught on fire, so rather than waste it, Sherri engorged herself.
The night was still. The crickets’ soft melody carried in the warm summer night breeze as the lone cow out in the farmers’ field called out to the herd. Sherri loved the quiet nights of country life. She didn't miss living in town at all. Sherri sank back in one of the white washed Adirondack chairs that encircled the campfire and closed her eyes. The scuffle of rocks sounded to the right. It was a quiet sound, but Sherri shot up and looked around.
A vehicle was parked outside of Jack and Dottie's house. Sherri walked over to the fence that separated their properties. Maybe Jack was home already, although, he drove an old Fold pickup, not a Jeep.
Sherri could barely make out the silhouette of the person who banged on her neighbor’s back door.
“They're not home,” Sherri called out during a lull in the pounding.
The figure turned and took a few steps away from the porch and into the small light.
“They're not home,” Sherri called out again. She didn't want to make her voice too loud. Her daughter's window was open and the last thing she wanted was for either one of the girls to wake up.
“Do you know when they'll be home?” A man’s voice carried in the wind.
Sherri was about to call out again when she realized the person headed towards her. “I'm sorry, there was an emergency and they had to go to the hospital.”
“Is everything okay, ma’am?”
As the man approached, she noticed something in his hand. A badge. It was a cop. Why would a police officer be looking for Jack and Dottie?
Should she say anything about Emmie and the photo of that missing girl?
Finding Emma Page 20
