Surviving Emma

by Jen Atkinson

  “Emma,” I said again, not allowing her verbal punches to hurt me. “I’m sorry.”

  “Get out,” she said and the first tear fell. She didn’t brush it away, and that hurt me more than anything she’d said.

  Chapter 28

  Emma

  I hated it when he came. It had happened less than a handful of times, but my fears were always the same. What if he saw Taggart drunk and on a rampage? What if he saw my cupboards close to bare and my refrigerator without one expensive helping of fresh fruit? What if he decided I wasn’t enough for Kotes? I’d wondered that myself plenty of times. What if he saw all that and fought to take Dakota home with him? Away from me.

  “Why’d Carter go home?” Kotes asked, looking over the array of rubber ducks Carter had given her. They floated around her, and every now and then she’d cause a wave and watch the direction they each decided to float.

  I peered up from my zoned out gaze of the bathtub water to her sweet face. “I don’t know, honey. I guess he had to go.”

  “I thought we were gonna watch Adventures in Babysitting.”

  “Nice try.” I rolled my neck, trying to lessen the kinks Keith’s one text had created. “I already told you, that one is off limits. It’s not appropriate.”

  “But Carter said—”

  “Carter is not your parent, Dakota.”

  She shut her mouth at my reprimand.

  Sighing, I crouched by the tub and picked up one of the ducks floating beside her. “Sorry, baby. I just don’t think Carter realizes that movie has colorful language in it.”

  “Taggart says colorful language all the time.”

  I smirked. “Well, that’s true. We don’t need to hear any more of it, then.”

  “But why’d he go? He said we were gonna pop popcorn and watch a movie.”

  I shrugged, not wanting to turn myself in. “Hey, Kotes,” I said, thinking about what Carter had said, praying I knew my girl better than he did. Surely Dakota knew she could tell me anything. If I dug down deep enough I’d have to decide where my true fear really lie—with Dakota being afraid to talk to me or Dakota wanting to call her dad. “Keith texted.”

  She squinted, her lips pursing in confusion.

  “Your dad, not your dog.”

  “Oh.” She covered her mouth with her fingers and let out a little laugh.

  That dog grew on me more every day. “He’s coming for a visit.”

  Her eyes grew wide and she smiled as if I’d announced she’d won the lottery. “I knew he’d come! I knew it. I knew he wouldn’t wait another year.” She spoke to herself and splashed her celebration so that water sloshed up over the side of the tub.

  Carter was right. Kotes did want to see Keith, and she hadn’t felt she could tell me as much.

  Carter

  I sat up, the pounding on my door at one in the morning making me pant like I’d ran a race. Had I been in the city still, I would have grabbed my gun, but this was Dubois.

  “Carter,” Emma’s muffled voice hollered at my closed door.

  “Em?” I eyed the clock one more time and hurdled through images of a hurt Dakota. I flung the door open, and her knocking fist paused mid-air.

  She sighed. “About time.”

  “Sorry? I was in bed.” I bobbed my head, shaking off her sour tone. “What’s going on? Kotes?”

  “She’s fine. It’s Taggart.”

  “Taggart?”

  She nodded with the tell sign of her jaw clenching. “He fell down a flight of stairs and broke his leg. The moron. I have to go to Riverton to get him.”

  “Ah.” Of course I’d go with her to get him. I—

  “Can you stay with Kotes?”

  “Oh. Sure. Is she—”

  “She’s home asleep.” She picked up my coat and handed it to me, ready to leave. “Hurry up. She’s alone.”

  I shoved my arms into the sleeves and snatched my phone from the charging station. “You should have called.”

  “I did,” she said, taking my phone and bringing the screen to life. She held it inches from my face: missed call, missed call, missed call.

  “Sorry.” I cringed—had I really slept through three calls? Maybe I shouldn’t have taken that Advil PM.

  I drove my own car to Emma’s so she wouldn’t have to take me home. I guess our fight had ended—or would it resume after the crisis? Either way, she’d come to me when she needed me. She could count on me. Maybe she couldn’t count on Taggart or Keith, or even her job, but she could count on me. I’d proven that to her.

  Warm air from the cabin trickled over me as I came in from the single digit degree outdoors.

  “Hopefully I’ll be back in four hours. If not, you can take Kotes to Virgie’s.” She threw a bag of chocolate covered pretzels into a huge purple purse and slid a quick glance my way. “You work at eight, right?”

  “Yeah, but Andy can cover for me.”

  She nodded, not in the mood to be proud. She needed me.

  “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “No,” she shook her head, “stay here with Kotes.” She waved down toward the hall of rooms. “Sleep in my bed. There’s no reason for you to be up all night.”

  “Okay.” My mom used to tell me that when you didn’t know what to say to a friend, the best support was a warm hug. I didn’t know what to say. What could I say about her ex coming here in just days, causing her stress and a strange sort of anxious jealousy? What could I do about her waste of breath father who would now need her care?

  Emma may have talked harsh, but she had no confidence in herself. Knowing her as I did now, I could see right through her idiots and hollering.

  I caught her by the wrist as she passed me toward the door.

  “I have to go,” she complained.

  But still I drew her in and wrapped my arms about her, holding her tight and burying my face into her neck. Her arms lay slack at her sides, but I didn’t let go. Lifting my head after a minute or two, she pierced me with her gaze. No words came into my mind. Not even a good luck. But then she raised on her toes and pecked my lips.

  “It’s Saturday. Let her sleep as long as she wants.”

  Carter

  “Carter?” The small voice flittered into my head—a dream? “What are you doing in Mama’s bed?”

  Most definitely not a dream.

  Dakota stood over me, a curious smile on her face and her blonde curls sprang out in all different directions. She giggled. “You look funny. You’re eyes look like Sponge Bob’s when he sees a fish hook.”

  I blinked and rolled to my side to better see the alarm clock on Emma’s night stand. Seven? Had Emma let me sleep? Why didn’t she wake me when she got home?

  “Where’s Mama?”

  My forehead wrinkled. “Hey, Kotes.”

  “You don’t wake up very well.”

  I cracked a grin. “You sure do.” I sat up and a beam of sunshine peeked through the window, hitting me in the retinas. “Ah, your mom had to pick up your grandpa.”’

  “Oh boy. What did Taggart do now?”

  “I think he broke his leg. Is he not here? It’s seven—I thought for sure—” I stopped midsentence. I didn’t need to scare Dakota. Instead I picked up my phone and saw three texts from Emma.

  Taking longer than I thought.

  And…

  This stupid hospital is never going to release him.

  Then…

  6 a.m. Leaving. Finally. See you around 7:30.

  “His leg?” She scrunched her face. “How would he have done that? He usually only sits.”

  “I don’t know, sweetie.” I set my bare feet on the ground and stood, still groggy from a restless nights sleep. “Come on. They’ll be here soon. Let’s go make breakfast for your mom.”

  She followed after me, asking questions I didn’t have the answer to.

  “Pancakes or waffles?” I asked, opening a cupboard. I knew Emma’s kitchen better than my own.

  “Hmm, what about crepes?” She twi
rled, her socks sliding on the hard linoleum. “Shiva says his dad makes crepes and fills them with delicious things like chocolate and cream and they call it breakfast! Can you believe that?”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve never made a crepe before.”

  “I mean, I know a crepe is a breakfast food. But chocolate and cream? I think Mr. Asan is pulling one over on them. That’s dessert.” She spun again, her slippery socks almost causing her to lose her balance.

  “Do you normally wake up so early on Saturdays?” Remembering the time made me realize I hadn’t texted Andy yet. I typed a quick note, telling him why I’d be late, while Dakota talked.

  “Well, not always, but after you left last night—thanks a lot, by the way—Mom made me go to bed. No movie and no popcorn. When I get a full eight hours my body wakes up all on its own.”

  “Sorry, kiddo.”

  She bobbed her acceptance. “You can make it up to me with some crepes.”

  I tickled her sides. She giggled and squirmed until she’d wiggled out of my reach. Then I pulled my phone from my pocket and googled a crepe recipe.

  Twenty minutes later Dakota and I hadn’t exactly mastered crepe making, but we knew which pan worked best. We knew if our stove temperature even slightly dialed over medium our crepes would burn every time. We had just mixed up a new batch when the front door opened.

  “I told you not to park there. We could have been home—”

  “A whole five minutes sooner,” Emma’s voice interrupted Taggart’s complaints. “Go sit down, I’ll bring you something to eat.”

  “What is that awful smell?” Taggart barked. “I was gone one day. What’d you do?”

  “I haven’t been here all morning, remember? And it’s not that bad.”

  “Well, then who is here? You left your kid, didn’t you? She’s burning the place down.”

  Emma sighed loud and audibly—even from the kitchen we heard her exasperation. Dakota and I glanced at each other as her footsteps walked our way. We’d both gone quiet and still to hear their conversation.

  “Hey, you two,” she said, rounding the corner. She’d pulled back her hair into a low ponytail and strands fell out around her face. There were dark circles beneath her eyes and she seemed pale—evidence of being alone with Taggart for too long.

  “Mama!” Dakota gave a gleeful whisper. “We made you a crepe. We didn’t have any melty chocolate, so we put some jam on the inside and Carter sprinkled it with powder sugar. See? Pretty, huh?”

  “Beautiful.” She yawned. The rings below her eyes aged her a decade. A twenty-four year old shouldn’t look so exhausted, so berated. No doubt Taggart had tormented her the whole way home. “I’ve got to get Grandpa some cereal.”

  “I’ll get it,” I offered, setting a hand on her arm.

  “No, you should go to work. This is my problem, not yours.”

  “I don’t think I should leave.”

  “You think Taggart’s gonna hobble after me? He’s only got one good leg, I think I could outrun him.”

  “His mouth still works.”

  “That’s for sure.” She pulled a box of corn flakes from the cupboard and poured half a bowl. “Go on,” she said.

  Why so stubborn? Why couldn’t she just say thank you?

  I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. I waited while she took Taggart a bowl of cereal, a glass of water, and a pain pill the hospital had issued him. Dakota and I eyed each other, listening again.

  “Here,” Emma said from the living room.

  “What’s this?” Taggart’s clipped tone was even more harsh than usual. I’d broken up fights multiple times on the job—but never a father who couldn’t stand his daughter. He despised her. He made that clear in every syllable he spoke.

  “Your pain meds.”

  “Not the pill, Emma,” he said her name like a curse word. “This?”

  “Water.” She paused a long moment before speaking again. “The doctor said you shouldn’t drink alcohol with your medication.”

  The shattering crash that came next put me into action. I scooped Dakota up and hurried her down the hall, setting her on Emma’s bed. “Stay.” I ran back, past the kitchen entry and into the living room where I stumbled, only because my bare foot came down on a shard of glass.

  Taggart had smashed the glass against the wall and Emma knelt, cleaning up the pieces, while he gave her a tongue-lashing. He paused upon seeing me though. I lifted my heel, keeping my wound off the ground and pointed at the piece of junk Emma called dad. “No. You will not speak to her that way.”

  He cocked a grin at me, looking me up and down. Maybe I wasn’t as intimidating in my sweats and T-shirt as I was in my uniform, but he didn’t scare me and I wouldn’t shy away from his glare.

  “Emma, go check on Dakota,” I said.

  For the first time in the months I’d known her, Emma Sunday sounded small, “But the glass—”

  “Leave it. Go ahead.” I didn’t look away from Taggart.

  She stood, didn’t argue for once in her life, and left the room.

  “Why do you like her?” Taggart asked me.

  I yanked the glass protruding from my foot, ignoring the pain, and knelt to finish Emma’s job.

  “Why?” he asked again, louder, when I didn’t answer him.

  But I didn’t owe him anything.

  “Don’t know, huh? That’s understandable. She must give it up pretty easy.”

  I stood, glass shards filling my cupped hands. An angry energy raged inside of me—I couldn’t stop myself. I kicked the underside of the leg rest of Tag’s recliner. Both his feet popped into the air and he howled out in pain. I clenched my teeth, biting back all that I wanted to say to him. It wouldn’t make a difference, anyway.

  “You piece of—”

  “Looks like you’re gonna need that pill. I’ll get you some more water.”

  Chapter 29

  Emma

  I lay in my bed, having slept three hours with Dakota next to me and Keith snuggled in a ball at our feet. I’d cried—again, except this time my girl had been a witness. What was wrong with me? I’d blame Carter except he currently did my dishes after making Dakota, Taggart, and I lunch.

  Dakota and I were on our second movie. Carter had Netflix on his phone, and Kotes and I had laid next to each other, her hand in mine, watching ridiculous things like MaKenzie’s Perfect Valentine on the small screen.

  “My turn! My turn!” Dakota said as the credit screen rolled.

  “You picked the last one.” But the mindless story numbed my pain. I didn’t really care what she picked.

  She sat cross-legged on my bed, her head tilted. “It’s no telenovela, but it’s good.”

  I fluttered my lashes at her comment, wanting to remind her that as a brilliant seven-year-old she shouldn’t go falling in love and getting her heart broken just yet—or ever. “Fine. But keep it PG. Got it? I’m going to check on Carter.”

  “You mean Taggart,” she said, scrolling past chick-flick after chick-flick on Carter’s phone.

  But I meant Carter. I didn’t care if I ever saw my father again. I’d become used to his insults and abusive comments, but I hadn’t had a six hour dose in some time. It wore me down. I felt about two inches tall, and I needed to forget that the man existed—at least for a while.

  My head spun a little after so much lying down. I crept into the kitchen and frowned at the bloody dish towel balled up on the floor. Taggart’s voice from the living room sounded and chills ran down my back.

  “I heard the girl say her father was coming back. You ain’t worried, lover boy?”

  I stepped in the hall to hear Carter’s response a little better. He had no reason to worry. I hated Keith, and Carter and I were just… I’m not sure what we were, but we weren’t together.

  “Why should that worry me? I would hope Dakota could have a good, healthy relationship with her dad. She needs a better example than what you’re giving her.”

  Taggart scoffed. “I ain’t nobody�
��s example. You don’t like it, you can get out.”

  “You’d like that, but I’m not going, and if I do, I’m taking Emma and Dakota with me.”

  “You think I care? You can have ‘em.” Taggart made a sniffling, garbled sound and I cringed. “I don’t want ‘em, neither of ‘em. Worthless pieces of—”

  “You, Taggart Sunday, are the most ungrateful old fool I have ever met. If Emma goes, so does your allowance.”

  A flash of green told me Carter had stood. I hopped back into the kitchen just as Taggart yelled out, “You think I can’t take care of myself? She’s the one holding me back. She’s the one!”

  Carter sighed and about ran into me. With my palms out, his chest smacked into my hands. “Hey, you’re up,” he said.

  “Yeah.” Embarrassed, I tried to skirt his eye contact. I had behaved so stupidly, so weakly, and I didn’t know how to say that I’d been the idiot. I closed my eyes, shutting out the blue of his irises that wouldn’t let me be. I bit my cheek, words evading me.

  “How do you feel?”

  “I’m fine,” I said too quick.

  “Good.”

  “So, what’s with the blood?” I pointed at the rag on the ground, changing the subject however I could.

  “Oh—ah, I just cut myself. No big deal.”

  I ran my hands down my cut off sweats, wishing they had pockets. When had I become so useless and awkward?

  “You’re out of milk. You okay if I head to Superfoods?”

  “We don’t need milk,” I barked.

  “I don’t mind.”

  I pressed my lips together. I knew he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind cooking more than half the time and buying more than half our food. He put up with my yelling and name calling—for some crazy reason. But the milk hadn’t made me react. My body and mind couldn’t handle being left alone with Taggart just yet. “I thought we could sit a while.”