Surviving Emma

by Jen Atkinson

  “You can finish out the week and you can keep janitoring for me, but you’re done offering Do or Dye services.” Part of her blonde hair with streaks of blue had been piled in ringlets on top of her head with the other half running straight as sticks down her back. I wanted to rip them from her scalp and tell her to take her job and shove it you know where… but how could I? It’s not like I had a degree or a bunch of options. I had bills and groceries and, well—

  Dakota.

  Chapter 4

  Emma

  “Thanks, Virgie.” Two days later, I held my phone to my ear and twisted one of Dakota’s rubber bands around my finger until it had turned blue. “Yeah, if you hear of anything part-time or full-time, let me know.”

  “I don’t understand why you need another job.” Dakota stirred the cereal flakes left in her bowl. She looked so tiny with her legs swinging beneath the kitchen chair. Too tiny to be headed to first grade, too tiny to be staying after school—not because she’d gotten behind, but because she’d advanced ahead of everyone in her class and her teachers didn’t want to lose that.

  I bit down on my thumbnail, scanning through the Dubois Times. “I told you already, Kotes.”

  “Right,” she said through a mouthful. “Deputy Stupid—”

  “Idiot.”

  “Right. Deputy Idiot threw a fit like a baby and cost you your rubbing people job.” She sounded sing songish—repeating my words like they were The Pledge of Allegiance or something.

  “Massage therapy, but yes.”

  “But you already have one job.”

  “I know, but someone is so darn smart, her momma has to make enough money to pay for a big fancy college.” I poked Dakota in the belly and she giggled. Still, I regretted the joke right away. I didn’t want Kotes feeling guilty or at fault for my having to work a couple jobs. Besides, janitoring and massaging wouldn’t pay for any college, just dinner. “Hurry up. It’s time to head out.”

  “And after school—”

  “Just go to Virgie’s.” Dang Taggart made a point to be gone when Dakota got home the rest of the school week—he made sure I realized I didn’t have control of where and when he spent his time.

  “Yes!” Dakota hopped off the chair, ran into the living room and slipped into her winter coat. “Telenovela!”

  “Telenovela my hinny!” I strolled up behind her and tickled her sides.

  Dakota fell to the carpeted floor in a heap and giggled.

  “Come on, chica. The bus will be here any minute.”

  Bundled in my coat and hat, I stood on the side of the road and waved goodbye to Dakota’s bus.

  Friday. I needed Friday. Friday meant Saturday. And I needed to sleep past seven and watch Saturday morning cartoons with Dakota until her hungry tummy forced me off the couch. Sure, I’d have to clean the salon tonight, but Jodi didn’t work Saturdays or Sundays, and now I didn’t either—since she’d canned my hinny. My insides boiled a bit at the memory. If I ever saw that Deputy Idiot again, I might greet him with my fist.

  My day was wide open until my very last massage appointment with Mr. Bear that evening. I had plenty of time to search for a job in the tiny town of Dubois.

  Emma

  Two coffee houses and a gas station later, I had made zero progress. My uneducated, lack of experience, two-line resume impressed no one—I wasn’t even qualified enough to pour a cup of coffee. I kicked at the frozen ground with my boots, my teeth grinding together while foul thoughts flittered through my brain.

  Maybe Kotes and I needed to find someplace new—the thought came often, but it blew away like sawdust in the wind. I couldn’t afford rent, and the expenses that came with moving were out of the question.

  The icy film covering the ground broke and I switched from kicking it, to stomping it with my heeled boot. More cracks spread out into the iced-over sidewalk. I grasped to the wooden, Carly’s Coffee Shop, sign sticking out of the ground with both of my hands. I stamped my heel until a chunk of ice flew from its spot on the outdoor floor. But peace didn’t come with the destruction.

  Leaning my forehead against the large wooden sign, my eyes filled with tears. Tears, I wouldn’t allow to fall. I hated this town. I hated Jodi. I hated that deputy. And I hated Taggart.

  I hated myself, too, because this was the best I could do. The one person I didn’t hate deserved so much more than I could give her.

  “Miss?” The low voice came from behind me, connected to a pair of boots just in my view. They were the only pair that hadn’t passed on by the way like they should have. “Do you need help? It’s cold out here and—”

  I turned around and the talking stopped—Carter stopped. Carter! I doubled my fists at my sides, ready to punch.

  “You. Always you.” Carter rubbed his hands together. He cupped them and blew warm air into their crevice. “I went three months without ever seeing you and now it would seem you’re the only girl in this town!”

  I held my bare hands at my hips, standing as tall as my five foot seven would allow. I didn’t shiver or let my teeth rattle. I wasn’t wussy like Deputy Idiot Carter. “You know, I think I am the only girl in Dubios.” I tapped my chin with my finger, pouting out my lips. “That explains all the testosterone in the air.”

  Carter shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’re just hilarious, aren’t you? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be beating some poor soul into delirium and calling it a massage?”

  I didn’t feel like giving him the satisfaction of learning what had happened to me after he left. He’d probably call it karma for getting out of his idiotic traffic ticket. “What are you doing here? Ticketing people for knowing how to drive in the snow?”

  “My job is being out and about in the community.” He peered up and down the quiet Dubois street, as if this explained why he stood in front of me. “Yours is in a back room at the Do or Dye. I can’t really blame them for hiding you away like that—Jodi probably doesn’t like to scare the customers.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said, nodding, but feeling the scowl on my face, “and I’m the comedian? Well, I feel so much safer knowing you’re out and about in the community, making sure the big bad citizens of Dubois aren’t out to get me.”

  “You mean you aren’t the big bad citizen?”

  “Very funny.”

  He raised his eyebrows, seeming to say—it wasn’t a joke.

  I shrugged and tilted my head, my lips in a flat line. I narrowed my eyes on him, silently calling him an idiot. “Can’t a girl get a cup of coffee?”

  “Apparently not.” He pointed at Carly’s and smirked. “You came out empty handed ten minutes ago. Your back was turned—I didn’t realize it was you.”

  If he had, he wouldn’t have come over, I’m sure. How long had he been watching me?—all the while not realizing it was me. “Just because you’re law enforcement doesn’t give you the right to—”

  He held up his hands, innocent. “Just an observation, Emma.”

  I didn’t like the way my name sounded on his lips, like a down pillow whose feathers were about to be ripped from their protective case and scattered into the air.

  He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “Despite what you may think, I’m not a bully.”

  “No, just an id—”

  “Individual,” he said, raising his voice above mine, “trying to figure out Wyoming. So far,” his head scanned up and down, looking me over, “its weather and its patrons are lacking.”

  I walked by him and scoffed. What did I care if Deputy Idiot thought I was lacking? Everyone thought that, I thought that. “Then leave. We don’t want you here anyway.” I didn’t wait around to hear what come-back Carter had for me. He always had something to say. I jerked open the door on my little red Volkswagen and climbed inside.

  Emma

  “That’s it, Mr. Bear, just relax.” I ran the eucalyptus oil over Mr. Bear’s back, his wiry body hair sliding between my fingers. The muscles in his back were tense, more so than normal. “
Everything okay with Mrs. Bear?”

  “Shirley’s fine, Emma. Still spending money and happy as ever. Why’d you reschedule for so late this evening?” His voice strained as he spoke.

  Everywhere else in town closed by seven—except the bar and the market. I’d spent the day job hunting, and knew I would be, so I’d rescheduled Mr. Bear for later. I hadn’t told him yet it would be our last visit together. Really, he might be the only one to care, besides me. Sure, I had a few other regulars, but none that depended on me like Corbin Bear. “It’s only seven. I just needed—”

  “Jodi said you were quitting. Tell me that ain’t true, Emma. You can’t do that to me.” His voice took on a whine that I’m sure he’d learned from Mrs. Bear and his three daughters. Corbin Bear needed me. I worked out the kinks his wife and girls created spending all his money.

  “Quitting?” That rat in heels wanted me to take the fall for this? My knead on Mr. Bear’s back intensified and he squeaked in pain. “That’s what she said? I did not quit. I had one little argument with a client—not even a client, a jerk who sat in my therapy room for five measly minutes and she fired me.”

  “Ah, Emma. Didn’t you ever consider what losing your temper could mean for me?” Mr. Bear groaned under my squeezing hands.

  “Sorry, I was too busy being insulted by stupid Aiden Carter and worrying about how to put food in Dakota’s mouth!” Holding onto to a flabby piece of skin, I pinched Mr. Bear’s back in my frustration.

  “Ouch!”

  The oily skin slipped through my fingers and I smoothed the area over with more eucalyptus oil. “Sorry,” I said without feeling.

  “I can’t go a week without my massage, Emma. What about in your house?”

  “My house?” I could only imagine, Taggart drunk on the couch, Dakota practicing her math skills, while Mr. Bear lie on my table in the middle of it all—yeah, that sounded like a brilliant idea. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

  “I’ll pay you double.”

  “Double?” Two hundred dollars a week, plus money from my janitoring job, it wouldn’t pay all the bills, but it might feed Dakota. “I suppose we could try it out, Mr. Bear.”

  “Emma, call me Corbin.”

  Chapter 5

  Emma

  “He’s always driving by at this time.” I watched Deputy Idiot’s car chug by. He didn’t look over at the house, but it still annoyed me. Mr. Bear had been to my house for his massage three times and every time Aiden Carter had driven by.

  “He’s got his routine. Andy’s the same way. Not a lot of action in Fremont County, Emma. We meet at four o’clock, at four he’s routing by.” Mr. Bear couldn’t be bothered by raging, overly nosy deputies. His wife had just bought a new dining room table that didn’t match the vintage china she purchased only a year ago.

  Oil ran between my fingers and I breathed in the earthy eucalyptus scent. I didn’t trust Carter’s routine. Didn’t he have better things to do than patrol by my residential? Taggart had gone to the bar, Kotes to Virgie’s. I just wanted to go about my daily business. I didn’t need to see Aiden Carter’s face every Thursday afternoon.

  I tried to forget about that stupid cop car with that stupid man—time to go to work.

  I massaged Mr. Bear’s arms, from his shoulder to his fingertips, my hands in motion like a machine, moving to the instrumental music playing in my living room. I’d drawn the curtains and turned off the lights, lighting candles to create something like the dimness from my therapy room at Jodi’s. Mr. Bear didn’t seem to mind Taggart’s old couch against the wall, his TV tray in front of his Lazy Boy like always, or the few pictures of Dakota I had about the room—and I grew more used to the idea of massaging at home. Both times he’d left me with two one hundred dollar bills, so I tried to see past my discomfort.

  He stood up from the table, holding the sheet he wrapped about his middle. After an hour of lying face down, impressions of my table and where there’d been a wrinkle in the sheet were imprinted on Mr. Bear’s skin. Heading into our one bathroom, he shut the door behind him. Minutes later, he exited. “Thanks, Emma. You’re worth every penny.” Mr. Bear closed the bathroom door behind him, his thumbs finding their way into his belt loops. “I think I will buy that new china for Shirley.” He looked so content as he said it.

  “I thought you said you paid a thousand dollars for a setting of four and four wouldn’t even cover your family.” I should have charged him more—a thousand dollars for a setting of four!

  “It is. But I’m feeling good—and a thousand dollars is worth keeping the peace.”

  Yep, I should absolutely be charging the old boy more. By five thirty I waved goodbye. Only thirty more minutes of clean up and then Dakota and I would be enjoying a big bowl of Lucky Charms for dinner.

  I should’ve been enjoying my extra time with Dakota. For the first time since she started school, I’d been there to greet her when she got home. And maybe I would have enjoyed it more if I knew how to pay next month’s bills.

  With my hand fisted, I knocked on Virgie’s door, an involuntary sigh falling from my chest. Searching for work wore me out—a job without pay.

  Virgie opened the door, Dakota ready to go at her side.

  “Thanks, Virgie.”

  Virgie smiled and nodded, pushing out her double chin. “And tomorrow you’ll—”

  “Yeah. Tomorrow I’ll be over with your payment.”

  “Pepsi!” Dakota said, pumping her fists in the air.

  “The Pepsi’s for Virgie, Kotes.” I didn’t like the idea of my six-year-old getting all caffeined-up, but I couldn’t find a cheaper sitter.

  “I know. You pay Virgie to watch me. Virgie pays me to translate.” She smiled as if she’d just thought up the idea of sliced bread.

  I wrapped her little hand in mine and started back to the cabin. “See you tomorrow, Virg.”

  “Bye, Emma. See you, Stink.”

  Emma

  I ignored Taggart’s snores from the living room and tucked the old blanket from Grandma Daisy around Dakota’s legs. How Taggart turned out so poorly, I’d never know. Grandma Daisy had been a sweetheart.

  “Mama, how’d you get your name?” She looked so big lying on her little bed. I’d never replaced her infant mattress. It worked just fine outside of the crib and I didn’t have the money for a new bed.

  “My name?” I ran a hand over the soft skin of her forehead, whisking away stray hairs from her view.

  “Don’t you wanna know how I picked your name?”

  “Oh, I know. You really liked visiting South Dakota. Although, Virgie says if you were going to name me after a place, you really should have named me Cheyenne.”

  I laughed, my chest rumbling without any noise escaping. “I’ve never even been to South Dakota.”

  “Oh. Well, then, North Dakota.”

  “Well, you’re closer, but nope, I’ve never been there, either.”

  Dakota sat up. “Then why? You really should have named me Cheyenne. Have you been there?”

  “Yes, Kotes, I’ve been there. But your Great Grandma Daisy came from North Dakota.”

  “Really?” Her eyes glistened, questioning my words. “But she lived here.”

  “She lived here with Taggart and Great-Grandpa Sunday, but she didn’t grow up here.” I brushed my fingers under her chin. My grandma Sunday was pretty much the only person other than Dakota worth anything in my life. “Grandma named me—that’s how I got my name. And, since she wasn’t around to name you, I decided to call you after the home she loved.”

  “Huh.”

  With two fingers on her little shoulder, I pushed her back into a lying position. “Why do you ask?”

  “So, Taggart didn’t name you? How come? Your mom didn’t either?”

  Mom ran off before she had a chance to give me a name, and Taggart didn’t care enough to bother. Finally, Daisy named me. She told me once if she’d ever had a daughter she would have named her Emma. “Why the sudden curiosity about names?
” I hoped that brilliant girl wouldn’t recognize me side stepping her question.

  “Mrs. Olson asked us how we got our names today. Harley said her dad named her after his baby blue bike and Beau said his mom named him after the man who should’ve been his daddy. I told everyone you liked South Dakota.”

  “Well, I’m sure it’s lovely there.”

  “Can we visit Grandma Sunday’s old house in North Dakota?”

  “I don’t know where that is, Kotes.” Not to mention I couldn’t afford rent, let alone a vacation. “Now, close your eyes. You can ask all your questions in the morning.”

  I shut the door to her room and crept down the hall to the kitchen. My skewed view into the living room told me that Taggart had woken up and was flipping through the TV channels, a new bottle of beer in his hands. I eyed him through my peripheral, annoyed at the way he held the bottle like a precious commodity and yet he couldn’t show up for his granddaughter for a single hour. What’s a human being compared to liquid pleasure?

  With my newly poured bowl of cereal in my hands, I wandered out to the living room and sat on the couch that belonged to my grandma. My throat itched to speak and I ground my teeth together. I shoved a bite of generic Lucky Charms into my mouth and stare at the TV. Two men wrestled, one in bright pink shiny pants.

  “I struck out again today.” I curled my feet up onto the couch.

  Taggart ignored me. One man from the screen stood over the other, his fist rising in the air as he made obnoxious faces into the camera. He snorted and took another swig from his drink.

  With my hands wrapped around the glass bowl holding my cereal, I set it on the coffee table and stamped both my feet flat to the floor. “Did you hear me, Taggart? I said I struck out. I couldn’t find a job today.”