Emma's Secret (5 page)

“Always,” Emma said.

Megan tightened her hold. “Always.”

Megan rinsed one last dish from dinner before placing it in the dishwasher. Peter sat at the kitchen table looking through the latest stack of grocery flyers, apparently oblivious to her at the moment.

Nerves made Megan’s body feel like it was strung on a taut wire. Her chest was tight, and it hurt to take deep breaths. Since her talk with Emma, she’d been fighting against the doubts that kept creeping into her heart.

“All right, spill.” Peter pushed his chair back, scraping the floor at the same time. Megan winced. She had meant to replace the little pads of fabric beneath the chair legs after washing them. They were probably still in the dryer from yesterday.

“What do you mean?” She wiped her hands on the towel hanging from the oven handle.

The look on Peter’s face told her he knew something was wrong.

“You banged the dishwasher door shut, almost broke a glass earlier in the sink, and you’ve barely said two words since the kids went outside to play after dinner.”

Megan turned her back, filled two mugs with coffee, and went to the table. She handed Peter his mug, reached for one of the grocery flyers, and prayed to God that Peter didn’t notice that her hand shook.

“You’re wound up as tight as my old yo-yo. What’s going on?”

“I didn’t think you’d be home so early tonight. Laurie had suggested going to the late show, but I told her you wouldn’t be home.” She wrapped her fingers around the mug.

“Well, I’m home.”

She caught the slight shrug of his shoulders and knew it really didn’t matter to him if she went out or not.

“I told her we’d go out tomorrow night instead. Will you be home?”

Peter tossed a flyer to the side and opened another one.

“Peter?” She glanced at what he was looking at. Golf clubs. Go figure.

“If you need me to be home early, all you have to do is ask. You know that.” He laid down the paper and took a sip of his coffee. “Why don’t you tell me the real reason you’re on edge tonight.”

Megan sighed. She bit her lip before standing up and glancing out the sliding doors. She drank in the sight of them, all together. She knew she was overreacting, that if she just took the time to really work her way through everything, she’d realize she was making a mountain out of a molehill.

“Have you ever noticed Emma not responding when you call her name?” She closed her eyes, not wanting to look at his reflection in the glass, afraid of what she’d see.

“No.”

Maybe it was the tone of his voice or the way he cleared his throat, but when Megan opened her eyes and looked over her
shoulder, she’d almost wished she hadn’t. His brows were knit together and there was a look in his eyes she’d seen too many times before.

“I have,” she whispered. When Peter sighed, something sparked inside Megan. She needed him to listen to her, to understand. “It happens to me a lot, Peter.” She turned her back to the glass and leaned on it.

Peter shrugged. “Why?”

Why? He had to ask that? It didn’t take a psychiatrist to understand that if a child didn’t respond to her name when called, there might be an issue. There had to be some reason she didn’t respond. Unless…this was Emma’s way of holding on to a life no longer hers? Would she do that on purpose though? At five years of age? Megan wasn’t too sure.

“Do you think something’s wrong with her hearing?”

Megan ground her teeth before she shook her head. “No, Peter. I think her hearing is fine. I think that she doesn’t want to be Emma. I think that—”

“She probably didn’t hear you,” Peter interrupted. His eyes were turned back down toward the flyers.

Megan seethed inside. How could he discount so quickly what she’d just said?

“She heard me when I called her Emmie.”

The look on Peter’s face said it all: disbelief, anger, confusion. His gaze shot from one corner of the room to another before resting back on her. She caught the way his fingers turned white as he clutched the coffee mug. Good. Maybe now he understood. Maybe now he would listen to her.

“You what?” His voice lowered about ten decibels, the anger she’d read on his face clear in his tone. No, he didn’t understand.

“I wanted to see. I called her name a few times and didn’t get a response. So I called her Emmie.” Megan toyed with her coffee cup, turning it in circles. “That’s all it took, for her to hear her old name. It scared me.”

Peter’s brows shot up. “Scared you? What do you think you did to her? How do you think she must have felt to realize you called her by that other name?” Peter stood, his chair scraping along the floor again as he pushed it back.

“What is wrong with you? What will it take for you to be happy?”

A
ugust 5

I burned the bread again today. I never do that. It’s the second time this week. Such a waste.

I laid Emmie down for her nap and fell asleep with her again. She doesn’t like to take many naps; sometimes I have to read her more stories than I prefer before she’ll settle down. Today I had to threaten to turn off her fairy lights if she didn’t fall asleep.

Jack brought her home some balloons today. I made him use the tire pump we used to use for Mary’s bike. I swear, that man is so stubborn sometimes. What does it matter if he blows up the balloons with his lips or with a pump? She has this fascination with red balloons—says they look better in the sky. For a girl who prefers pink, yellow, and white, I would never have thought she’d want only red balloons. Good thing the bag had plenty of red ones; otherwise, knowing him, he’d have gone back into town to buy more.

Jack commented that I’ve been more tired lately, so he made an appointment with Dr. Stewart. Meddlesome old fool, but he won’t listen to me. I’ve always been healthier than I should be for my age. Perhaps raising a child is catching up to me. There are times I don’t understand how Mary could do this to me—have a child and never tell me, her mother. Emmie is a sweet girl, so I know Mary did something right
despite her addiction, but that child of mine never thought of the consequences. She never did. It was her one big fault.

I blame myself. Mary always blamed me too.

Peter leaned against the doorway into the living room. He could never get enough of the image before him: their family complete again after so much time. He choked up and softly cleared his throat, not wishing to disturb the scene.

A movie played while Hannah sat on a beanbag chair, her back against the couch and her long legs stretched out in front of her. She was going to be tall; he could see it. Alexis was sprawled on the couch, her back against the corner of the sectional with her legs crossed and a large bowl of popcorn in her lap. Emma sat in Peter’s favorite chair, the drawing pad he’d bought her last week against her bent knees. Her tongue was stuck out, a sure sign of concentration. Every so often, she’d reach down with her free hand and grab a piece of popcorn from a bowl beside her. Not once did he catch her watching the movie.

That didn’t surprise him, though. From what he understood, she didn’t watch a lot of television at the farm. They sheltered her, and a part of him was thankful for that. She remained a sweet little girl, full of innocence and love.

She must have noticed him watching her. She lifted her gaze, her soulful eyes measuring him—something he’d noticed her doing lately. It was unnerving. What did his five-year-old see in him? Did he measure up? Somehow, he didn’t think so.

“Come sit beside me, Dad.” Alexis moved her legs to make room. Peter smiled at Emma, who watched as he crossed the room.
Hannah stuck her hand out for a high five. He went to smack her hand, but she quickly lowered it in a fit of giggles.

“Hey, no fair,” he teased her before pretending to sit on Alex. They had a mini tickle fight without spilling the popcorn before Peter repositioned her legs over his. He nudged Hannah with his foot until a slight smile appeared.

“So what are we watching?”

Alexis sighed before pointing to the screen. “A movie about a dragon, duh.” The sarcasm in her voice was overwhelming. Typical Alexis.

“Haven’t we already seen this?”

“Only like a thousand times. But there’s nothing else on,” Hannah muttered.

Peter reached into the popcorn bowl and flicked a piece at Hannah’s head. She ducked, but it was Emma’s quiet laughter that caught his attention. He flicked one at her, but before she could duck, Daisy jumped up and caught it in her mouth.

“No way.” Peter laughed. “Who’s been teaching Daisy tricks?”

A light sparkled in Emma’s eyes. She leaned over the arm of the chair and scratched Daisy’s head. “Hannah’s a good teacher,” she said.

Peter nudged Hannah again with his foot. “Hannah’s a great big sister.” A sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time settled in his heart as Hannah flushed with pleasure.

If he could freeze time, it would be this exact moment, with his children happy and himself at peace. The only thing missing was Megan.

“When’s Mommy gonna be home?” Emma asked, almost as if she knew what he was thinking and missed her too.

“Never. She ran away,” Alexis pouted. Emma’s eyes widened in fear, and Peter gave Alexis a stern look.

“She didn’t run away,” he said soothingly to Emma. “She went out.” He focused on Alexis and waited for her to look up. “Why would you say something like that?”

Alexis shook her head. “’Cause she always goes out at night without us.”

Peter sighed. “That’s not true. Your mother rarely goes out anymore and when she does, it’s usually grocery shopping. You know that.”

Alexis grunted. “She just doesn’t want to spend time with us.”

“What?” Was he missing something? Megan loved being home with the kids. School was out, her Safe Walks program was on break, the kids weren’t in sports, and she was excited to have the summer to reconnect with Emma. So why did it bother them so much that she was gone now?

“We never spend time as a family anymore.” Alexis raised her face and stared defiantly into his eyes.

Peter shook his head. That didn’t make sense. “We’re spending family time now.”

“No, we’re not. Mommy’s not here.”

Peter cocked his head and looked at his daughters. This had really upset them. Emma buried her head back into her drawing; she wouldn’t look up. Alexis’s shoulders were pushed back and her chin up high. This was his fighter. But there was nothing to challenge, nothing to fight over. The look in Hannah’s eyes was sad, downcast, and defeated.

Did they honestly think that Megan didn’t want to spend time with them? That she couldn’t wait to go out in the evenings? He could count on one hand the times Megan had gone out alone since Emma’s return. Where did this come from?

He put his hand on Hannah’s shoulder and wrapped his arm around Alexis, drawing her close.

“Listen to me. Everything your mother has always wanted is right here in this room. Her family. That’s you”—he nodded to Alexis—“and you”—then to Hannah—“and you, little monkey sitting in my favorite chair.” Emma glanced up, her eyes wide. “The only thing that matters to your mom is her family. Nothing else.”

“Are you sure about that? I heard her tell you she needed time to herself tonight.” Alexis taunted him.

He had to give her that. Megan did say that before she left. He’d even agreed with her. He didn’t know what was wrong with her or where her head was at but maybe some time alone, to think about how ridiculous her earlier claims were, would be good for her. He nodded.

“She did, didn’t she. And that’s allowed. Just like when you go up to your room for some quiet time and listen to your music. It’s the same for Mom.” Peter slowly removed his hand from Hannah’s shoulder and laid it on his leg, inches away from Alexis’s bare foot. “Right, kiddo?” He started to tickle her foot and waited for her belly-wrenching laughter.

Alexis tried to yank her foot out of his grasp, but it was pointless. He continued to tickle, and once she started to laugh, the stress in the room dissolved. Daisy started to jump and bark and Emma even laughed a little. Peter memorized the welcome sound as Hannah rose up on her knees and reached for Alexis’s other foot.