Surviving Emma

by Jen Atkinson

  Why didn’t Taggart love her, she’d asked me. I should have told her what a fool her father had been, a mean fool who didn’t know how to love. But I hadn’t said a word.

  I covered her with the blanket my Nana had crocheted for me on my sixteenth birthday. It lay on the back of every couch I’d ever owned. Tess had called it ratty once, but Emma said she liked the softness of the yarn. She liked it even more when I mentioned my Nana. Emma’s grandma had been her only reprieve, but she hadn’t had her long.

  I sighed, watching her. So, Taggart was dead. They’d be better off, and yet it still caused suffering.

  I called Virgie again and told her we’d be a little longer than planned. I wouldn’t wake Emma.

  She slept for four hours. I watched her most of the time, and somehow it didn’t feel like much time had passed when her eyes finally fluttered opened.

  When she saw my Nana’s blanket over her shoulders and me sitting in the chair opposite her, she leaned her head back, her eyes closing and sighed. “Not a dream then.”

  “How are you? I have some Advil and some very luke-warm water.”

  She sat up and took the pills, downing the glass of water. Her puffy eyes matched her cheeks, still rosy from crying. “What time is it?”

  “A little after ten.”

  “Oh geez.” She stood, but held her head and swayed with the action. I stood too, catching her by the arm. “I need to go.”

  “Don’t.” I moved in front of her, inching my coffee table out of the way with my leg. “Just stay. Dakota’s camping out at Virgie’s already. Just stay.” I wished for once in her life she’d listen to me.

  She slid her hand into mine and pulled my knuckles to her lips. She kissed my fingers and held my hand to her cheek. “I can’t,” she said, slowly setting my hand back to my side. She walked to the door in a slow stride and I followed her like a puppy.

  A cold, blustery breeze invaded my warm home, and she shivered before turning away from the dark outdoors to look at me one more time.

  “Stay,” I told her again.

  “Thanks, Carter. For everything.” And then she left.

  Chapter 37

  Emma

  Just the three of us stood at the top of the hill. Sal didn’t even come and I’m pretty sure Taggart kept him in business. He’d suffered a heart attack—which wasn’t enough suffering in my opinion. He went so quick—neither of us even saw it coming. Would he have wanted to say anything to me if he’d known? Probably not. I’d had plenty to say to him though.

  I spread his ashes over the stones and buds at our feet. The wind swept them away and took them to all the places Taggart didn’t deserve to fly.

  “Should we say something?” Carter asked.

  I shrugged one shoulder. I wouldn’t stand there and lie about how much I’d miss him. But then Dakota stepped up, a sniffle in her nose, her tiny voice cracking. “Taggart,” she said. “You weren’t a very good grandpa. You drank too much and you made Mama mad—a lot.” She wiped a tear from her eye and added. “But you always let me watch wrestling with you.” She stepped back in line with Carter and I.

  Carter reached a hand out and she took it, holding his fingers in her small grip.

  Why did my tear ducts ache? Why did this stupid, cruel, good for nothing man make me feel so much pain? Even in death he hurt me. I didn’t want to cry over Taggart. I didn’t want to allow that man to cause me any more grief.

  “Em?”

  I glanced at Carter, my chin trembling. Because even in death Taggart threatened power over me. His words still rang in my mind, all the things he’d said about me, the names he’d called me—worthless, nothing. When the one person who is supposed to love you doesn’t, you begin to wonder if there’s anything about you worth loving. I stare down at the spot where I’d spilt his embers. “Taggart, I’m done with you,” I said. “Dakota and I are leaving and you can’t stop us. I’m done feeding your addiction and listening to you call me names. I’m going and I’m not coming back. We won’t let you have any more power over us.” The more I spoke the stronger I became. Maybe to him I’d been meaningless, but to Dakota and to Carter I meant something. More importantly, I’d become significant to myself. “I’m done.”

  Dakota reached up and with her free hand, she took mine. We stood there a minute longer, until all of Taggart’s ash swept off of the mountain and into the air, until he was gone in every way possible.

  Emma

  Two Weeks Later

  The kitchen looked bigger and bare with only a few odds and ends left to be packed. I’d only left the things I thought we’d use in the next week before moving to Laramie.

  “Hey, Em,” Carter said, “where did you want these?” He held two boxes, one on top of the other, the side of them reading in magic marker: Dakota’s room.

  “Ah, just the living room for now. I’m storying everything there until we’re ready to pack the truck. You’re sure Andy doesn’t mind you using his truck?”

  “Nah, he doesn’t need it.”

  Dakota dragged with some difficulty the largest stuffed giraffe on the planet behind her down the hallway, passing by the kitchen doorway. Her happy little face drooping in a frown.

  “Kotes, chin up, sweetie.”

  “But why can’t Aiden come with us? I don’t mind moving, but why can’t he come?” Her shoulders slumped.

  “Whoa,” Carter called, box free, “what are you doing to Clarence?”

  “He doesn’t want to go to Laramie without you.”

  Carter swooped her up and flung her on his back. He galloped away and soon giggling wafted in from the living room.

  We could do this, Dakota and I, we could be brave. But being brave proved harder every day. Dakota moped, Virgie whined, even Mr. Bear complained. The only one sure I’d made the right decision at the right time was Carter. If you don’t do it now, you’ll just find a new excuse not to, he’d said.

  I found a small, low-income apartment not far from campus, had a Skype interview, and took a job at a local spa. I signed up for fall classes and had a list of crazy expensive text books required for each—I just hadn’t figured out how to pay for it all yet. The cabin had gone up for sale two days previous, but in small Dubois, I didn’t know how long it would take to sell. I’d heard back from one of my scholarship applications—it seemed they were partial to single moms and they awarded two-hundred and fifty dollars. Sure, not much when we’re talking rent and tuition, but it gave me hope.

  I just had to finish packing this house before I lost every one of my nerves. “What’s for dinner?” I called into the living room where Dakota’s laughing fits had faded to a quieter coo.

  “I’m ordering pizza,” Carter called back. Taggart dying made that night where he told me about Tess just a memory. We hadn’t talked of it again. We also hadn’t kissed again.

  “Yes!” Dakota bellowed.

  “Should I order it now?” He leaned against the kitchen door jam, watching me.

  “Oh, sure.” I reached for bin on the top shelf of a cupboard, just inches out of my reach. I hadn’t a clue what contents might be inside after all these years.

  Carter slid up beside me and snatched the bin down. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled at him, his nearness making my heart beat faster.

  His phone pinged and I watched him read the text and grin. I bit my lip every time his phone made a noise. It had to be her. Sure, we hadn’t talked about Tess again, but I’d basically told him to go back to her. I’d shoved my heart into its own personal garbage can and in a sense said—my feelings aren’t important, go back to the love of your life, have babies and be happy.

  He looked up from the small screen and shoved it back into his pocket. “Any requests.”

  My eyes lingered on the pocket where his phone hid. Blinking, I met his gaze. “Ah, no. Whatever Dakota wants.”

  A half hour later we sat at the table, our pizza on paper plates since I’d packed all our dishes, and listened as Dakota s
o out of character complained—again. “Four more dinners after tonight. That’s it. Four more.”

  Carter and I glanced at each other, but I didn’t know what to tell Dakota. I wouldn’t ask Carter to come with us, and he wouldn’t come anyway. Tess—and the fact that I’d screwed too many things up in our make-believe world.

  “Well,” he cleared his throat and set his slice of pepperoni back onto a plate. “I have an announcement.”

  Dakota piped up—wrong word choice Carter. The girl would think he’d decided to pack his bags and come with us. I might think that, too, if he didn’t hurry and shut down my smallest ray of hope.

  “You know that American League of Scholars scholarship I told you to apply for.”

  “The scholarship with the eighteen page form, plus an essay. The one that I didn’t have a shot at and didn’t have time for?”

  “That’s the one.”

  I shrugged “Yeah?”

  “Well, you won it.”

  “I won it? But I—”

  He licked his lips and fidgeted in his seat. “I filled it out for you.”

  “And wrote—”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged again. “About your life—so I feel as though it’s less dishonest.” His grin peaked.

  My heart leapt a little. Dishonest as it may be—that scholarship amounted to five thousand dollars. That would actually help the debt slowly forming with my new credit card. “Five thousand dollars?”

  He breathed out a nervous sigh. “Well, it actually ended up being a little more than that.” He reached for his coat draped over the back of Dakota’s chair and pulled an official looking envelope from his coat pocket—a stuffed envelope. Carter pulled out a wad of cash larger than anything I’d ever witnessed in real life or on TV

  “Holy mother of pearl!” I hooted. “How much more? There’s got to be ten, fifteen thousand dollars here.”

  Carter nodded, handing me the money. “Twenty-seven thousand nine-hundred eighty-four dollars and eighty-eighty cents.”

  I took the bundle of bills, my jaw falling open. Twenty-seven thousand and… something—strangely specific. “And in cash?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged again, lifting his hands—he didn’t understand it either. “Guess they were pretty touched by your life.”

  “My life?”

  “I guess I’d studied it in a way. It made one heck of an essay.”

  I laughed and my throat constricted, wanting to cry. “This is insane. Stuff like this doesn’t happen to me.” I couldn’t help it, I set the money on the table almost as if it were a living being and dove into Carter’s arms. “Thank you. I can’t believe they picked me. I can’t believe you did this.” So much—and cash—and me—not one ounce of it made sense. But it sat on my table as proof.

  He hugged me back, awkwardly at first, and then he nestled his face into the crevice of my neck. He pulled back and kissed my cheek. “You deserve it, Emma.”

  Chapter 38

  Carter

  Five Months Later

  I didn’t need GPS. I knew where to go. I’d helped bring them here all those months ago. Still, I questioned my next turn, but then I saw it, the tall building where Emma and Dakota had moved.

  I pulled into an open parking space, my insides tense and chaotic like never before. I wish I could feel the peace I felt all those month ago when I emptied my bank account and handed it over to Emma. That had been easy compared to this. We texted weekly and had even had a few phone calls, but only so much could be said through a phone. I needed to see her.

  It’s possible I should have told her I was coming—what if she had work or a class? I shook my head, trying to evict all of the questions. If they weren’t home, I’d wait.

  I knocked on apartment C4 and rocked on my heels, waiting for Emma to answer.

  When the door opened, I had to study the woman in front of me. Emma’s hair had grown, her eyes were bright and her smile had become more natural than the noon day sun. She wore yoga pants, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes. She looked as shocked to see me as I felt being there.

  “Carter?” She leapt into my arms and strangled me in the tightest of hugs.

  “Who?” I heard a bellow from behind her. Small feet pattered on the floor and then Dakota clung to my legs. “Aiden’s here! Aiden’s here!”

  Emma broke away, and I leaned down to give Dakota a proper hug.

  “What are you doing here?” Emma asked, shaking her head and beaming. Before I could answer, she dragged me inside by my sleeve. “Oh, oh, one second. Annalise!”

  A teenage girl, clinging to her smart phone, sauntered into the room.

  “Hey, I’m not gonna need you to watch Kotes after all. Will you tell your mom I’ll meet her for yoga tomorrow?”

  “Sure, whatever.” Annalise left, somehow not running into the door while her eyes studied her phone screen.

  We stood in a small kitchen, smaller than her one back in Dubois. The clean space only had a pot in the sink—possible evidence that Emma had been cooking. I’d believe it only with proof.

  I bit my lip but couldn’t stop my snicker. “Yoga, huh?”

  She rolled her eyes in such true Emma fashion. “Yes, yoga. You were right, it’s good for my nerves. Of course, so was Tag dying.”

  Dakota didn’t even reprimand her. She clung to my arm, giggling. “Oh my gosh!” she said, letting go of me. “You have to see Clarence! He has a rip and Mom sewed him up, but—Oh! I'll go get him."

  Emma tugged on my wrist, her touch sending a spark to my nerves. It had been too long, but I had to give her space. I had to let her start anew. “Carter,” she peered up at me, “it’s so good to see you. I can’t believe you’re finally here. What really brought you?”

  Finally—she’d said. “Really?”

  She nodded.

  “Ah,” I studied her expression—how would she feel about this? “A job interview.”

  “A job? Here?” Her head perked up and her chest rose and fell a little quicker with breath.

  “Yeah.” I restrained myself from touching her again. Her hug had been too short. “What do you think?”

  “Uh—” she looked at the ceiling and then the floor and then finally me. “What does Tess think?”

  “Tess? I haven’t really—I mean… Emma, I haven’t talked to Tess in five months.”

  “Five months?” She blinked.

  “Five months.” I took a step closer.

  “Five months,” she said again, this time with belief. She stepped closer too, her cheeks brightening to a pretty shade of pink.

  “Aiden! Look at this!” Dakota barreled in between us. The giraffe that stood a foot taller than her had a tear right between its eyes, one that had been sloppily sewn up. “Damien did it!”

  “Damien?” I let out a shaky breath and tried to focus on Dakota, but I could see Emma watching me. I could feel her eyes. I swear I could hear her thoughts, echoing the words five months.

  “The little boy next door.” Emma mindlessly pointed to our right.

  “I’m so glad your mom fixed him up.” I ran my fingers over the stitches.

  Dakota took me to her room and showed me her new books. She talked about school and friends—her little mouth running a mile a minute. At last, she settled on the floor of the living room with a book and then a stillness fell over the room.

  Emma’s long fingers tangled in her lap. She pressed her lips together and peered over at me sitting next to her on the couch. “So, how have things been?”

  I shrugged, but smiled. “Same old Dubois. Tell me about you—how’s school? And work?”

  “Good.” Her eyes darted from my hands to my face. “Harder than I thought, but it’s good.”

  “You’re doing it.” I adjusted on the couch and moved an inch closer to her. I wish she’d reach out—or even head butt me with a kiss. I didn’t know where or how to start whatever we were back up.

  After an hour of semi-comfortable conversation, I stood. “I have to go. My interview is i
n half an hour.”

  “Oh, right. Your interview.”

  Dakota’s book flopped to the ground. “Wait, you’re leaving? But you’ll come back, right? We’ll make dinner?”

  I glanced at Emma who watched me intently. “Maybe. I’ll talk to your mom. See what you have planned.”

  “We have nothing planned!” She whooped, but Emma said nothing.

  Emma walked me to the door, her fingers knotting and unknotting at her side. I turned in the doorway to examine her again. Her joy had magnified and it was the most beautiful thing about her. “Hey,” she said, a nervous twinge in her tone, “Thanks. I mean, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

  “That’s not true. You made this happen.”

  She shuffled her feet, biting her lip, and gave me a short, curt wave goodbye.

  Emma Sunday had thanked me—she used those actual words. I turned, resisting the invisible string that attached me to her, and started down the hall of her apartment building.

  But then a small whimper made me stop. “Aiden,” Emma said, still standing next to her door.

  I almost thought I heard her wrong—she said my name, my first name. Deputy Idiot would have shocked me less. I turned around, feeling my brows pull together.

  “Stay,” she breathed out the word, a tear streaking her cheek.

  My body propelled forward of its own accord, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close. Her heart thumped into my chest, and I buried my face in her neck and hair, kissing where my lips met skin. “I can’t promise this will be perfect.”

  Her arms tightened around my neck and she kissed my face. “Stay.”

  “I can’t promise it won’t be hard or that we’ll always get along.” I held her inches off the ground, so that her eyes met mine straight on and only a small gap bridged our lips. “But—”

  “Just stay,” she said again, closing the breach between us.

  Epilogue