Under the Willows

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Under the Willows Page 20

by Pamela McCord


  “I want to drink to Marilee and the miraculous way she’s recovered after her horrendous experience.” We all took another drink. TJ was beaming as he got to clink his glass to mine.

  “This toast is to Rob. For saving Marilee and Emma. My heart is fairly bursting with pride for him.”

  He cleared his throat and wiped at his eyes as surreptitiously as he could.

  “Here’s to Brindleson being arrested. He can never harm another child.” After we all took a drink, I said, “Well, that’s about all I can think of.”

  Everyone set their glasses down and applauded.

  Rob stood and raised his glass then. “We need to drink to Kelly and TJ, who listened to a ghost and set the ball rolling so that we were successful in the end. Also heroes.”

  His eyes met mine. I found myself unable to look away as I felt a warm flush of embarrassment. I hoped no one noticed my discomfort.

  TJ wanted to make a toast, and all our attention turned his way. “I want to drink to my mom. ’Cause I love her so much.”

  “Aww, I love you, too, honey.” I teared up as I clinked my glass with his.

  —

  Jason and Jen said goodnight, Jason shaking his head and muttering “I can’t believe it,” as they walked out the door.

  I sent TJ up to get ready for bed and began clearing the champagne flutes off the table. I heard Rob come into the kitchen as I was hand washing them in the sink.

  “Can I help you with anything?” he asked.

  I felt that warm flush again and shook my head no, not wanting to look at him. When I got myself back under control, I turned around to find him watching me intently. I wanted to touch him, but instead asked if he’d like coffee.

  He dropped his gaze, releasing me from the compelling urge to do something I shouldn’t do.

  “Sure, if you do.”

  “I’ll put some on. It’ll only take a few minutes.” We sat at the kitchen table then, an uncomfortable silence between us.

  Once we had our mugs of coffee in front of us, though, we both relaxed.

  “Are you worried about talking to Emma’s parents?” I asked him.

  “Not really, although I’m in a quandary about what I’ll tell them.”

  “Something occurred to me.” I sipped my coffee, looking up at him over the edge of the cup. “This just got complicated. How are you going to ask Emma’s parents to bury Brownie with her?”

  He looked like I’d punched him. “I hadn’t thought about that. I don’t have any idea how to tell them.”

  I watched him silently for a few moments, contemplating the dilemma. When the answer hit me, I jumped up. “I’ll be right back.”

  I tiptoed into TJ’s room and took the nanny cam off the shelf and hurried back to the kitchen.

  Holding it out to Rob, I said, “If we got any of it on tape, we can show them.”

  He set the teddy bear on the table. “You’re a genius! Whatever the cam saw is recorded on our phones.” He started scrolling, with me looking over his shoulder.

  I felt chilled when I heard the words “Can you tell my mommy I want my teddy bear Brownie?”

  He glanced up at me. “This will help. But—”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, noticing his scowl.

  “How much should we show them? Everything their daughter said? Wouldn’t that be horrifying for them?”

  “It would be. I don’t what them to have to go through that.”

  “What about just today, when we said goodbye to her?” he asked.

  Relief coursed through me. “Of course. We can say that’s all we have.”

  “Then you should come with me when I meet them. You’re on that video talking to Emma, too.”

  “You’re right. I’m not looking forward to it, but I’ll go with you.”

  “After our meeting, I’ll ask them if they have a moment to talk to someone else who was instrumental in locating their daughter. We don’t want to bring the ghost angle up at the precinct.”

  “The park across from the police station. I could wait for you there.”

  “That would work. Thanks.”

  “You don’t need to thank me. I want to help any way I can.”

  He drained his coffee. “Shall we?”

  I carried both our mugs to the sink and rinsed them out. “Give me a minute to make up the couch.” I paused. “Tomorrow should be interesting.”

  “I can’t imagine how they’ll react to hearing the ghost of their daughter speaking.”

  “I can’t either. But hearing that she wants to see them again might bring them some peace. And knowing her spirit still exists . . . won’t they find comfort in that?” I said.

  “I hope so. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

  Chapter 38

  O

  I

  pulled into the parking lot at Piedmont Park. Rob had said to be there around two, and I was fifteen minutes early, so I sat in my car and re-watched the nanny cam video, positioning it to the last conversation with Emma.

  I was nervous at the prospect of confronting Emma’s parents with a preposterous claim. If not for the video, there would have been nothing we could say to explain the teddy bear request. I took a swig from the water bottle sitting in the cup holder.

  There was a clear view of the police department from my parking spot. I waited until I spotted Rob and the Cornings crossing the street into the park, and I got out of the car and walked to meet them.

  Emma’s parents looked confused. I didn’t know what Rob told them, but probably nothing that made sense to them. He introduced us and pointed toward a picnic table off to the right, no one talking until we were all seated.

  Mr. Corning looked between Rob and me, finally saying, “Detective Porter told us that you were helpful in finding Emma. We’re very grateful to you for whatever you did.”

  “We’re happy that we could return her to you. Although I’m sure it wasn’t the outcome you hoped for.”

  “No, it wasn’t. But after all these years we didn’t really expect to find her alive. We tried not to give up hope, but it was hard not to expect the worst.” He smiled glumly, looking down at his folded hands. “We’re not sure why you wanted to speak with us. We’ve already talked to the police.”

  I glanced at Rob. “We have a story to tell you. An unbelievable story. We hope it will bring you some peace.”

  Mrs. Corning’s hand went to her throat. “I don’t understand.”

  I took a deep breath before saying, “Do you still have Emma’s bear Brownie?”

  “Yes. Of course we—” She looked at me sharply. “Wait. How do you know about Brownie?”

  “That’s where the unbelievable part comes in,” I said. I cleared my throat. “Emma told us.”

  She clutched her husband’s arm. “What are you talking about? How could Emma tell you anything?”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Corning. Your daughter has been talking to us. Actually, her spirit has been talking to us,” Rob said. Before they could protest, he continued. “I know what you’re thinking. That it’s impossible.” I handed Rob my phone, the video queued up. “Which is why we brought this. Before you watch it, you should know that Emma’s come through to us several times in the past few days. She helped us find Marilee Harmon.”

  I could see anger surfacing on Mr. Corning’s face. “You should show them the video, Rob,” I said.

  “Look, we’re grateful to you for finding our daughter . . . our daughter’s remains, but I doubt there’s anything you could show us to convince us that Emma’s ghost talked to you. This is disgraceful. Does your department know about this?” He stood and grabbed his wife’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  I put my hand on his arm. “Please. This will only take a minute of your time. If we didn’t think it was important, we wouldn’t expose ourselves to ridicule. Just, please, let us show you.”

  He shook off my hand, but sat down again. Glaring at Rob, he took the
phone as Rob hit the Play arrow.

  He found me.

  Mrs. Corning gasped when she heard the eerie voice. As the video continued to play, both Cornings were crying.

  When Emma said she wanted to see her mommy and daddy, Mrs. Corning buried her face in her husband’s shoulder and he put his arm around her.

  The video finished, and Mrs. Corning asked to see it again. Both Cornings sat in silence as they watched.

  “Is there more?” she asked, hope swimming in her tears.

  Rob and I exchanged glances. Rob cleared his throat. “This was the most important message for you to hear. I can email you the clip, if you’d like.”

  “Of course we’d like,” Mr. Corning said. “But you didn’t answer the question.”

  “Mr. Corning, nothing else matters.”

  “If you don’t want us to see the video, can you at least tell us what else she had to say?”

  Rob rubbed his jaw and sighed. “Mostly she asked for help. It took awhile before we were prepared to believe our ears but, when she mentioned Marilee, that changed everything. She told us right off that Marilee was still alive, but that she wasn’t. She begged us to hurry, as time was running out for Marilee.”

  “And did she tell you what happened to her? To Emma, I mean,” Mr. Corning said.

  Rob looked down, reluctant to answer the question. “She did, but it wouldn’t do any good for you to know. It’s in the past now and even Emma wouldn’t want you to try to imagine how she died. Please don’t ask to see any more.”

  Mr. Corning seemed to consider the information. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead ran his hand through his hair. “All right.”

  “Thank you. Please, find peace in the knowledge that Emma survived. At least her spirit survived, and she’ll be there with you at her funeral. That she wanted to see you again. Feel happy that when you put her bear in the coffin with her, it will be the most loving thing for her to take with her as she moves on.”

  Mrs. Corning looked at me. “The necklace. It was my mother’s. Emma thought it was pretty and begged me to let her wear it, and I often did. She was wearing it when she . . . when she . . . .” Mrs. Corning looked away.

  I put my hand over hers, and she gave me a sad smile.

  “I thought you’d like to know about the necklace.”

  “Thank you for telling me. It’s what drew Emma to me. I think God must have had a hand in making sure I found it in that antique store,” I said, my fingers closing over the pendant. I prepared to lift it off my neck and return it to her. “Would you like to have it back?”

  “Oh, no. Please. Emma wanted you to keep it. And so do I. I’m glad I let her wear it. If she hadn’t been wearing it . . . if you hadn’t bought it . . . I don’t want to think about what might have happened. We may have gone the rest of our lives wondering what happened to our beautiful girl.”

  “I think things happened the way they were supposed to. We can’t let ourselves think about . . . any other outcome.”

  Rob watched us solemnly, then, his gaze steady, he said, “We have to ask you to please not discuss this except among yourselves. As you can imagine, it wouldn’t be well-received by the police department, and it would be a media circus if the press got wind of it. For you, as well as for us.”

  “I understand,” Mr. Corning said.

  “You said Emma led you to Marilee?” Mrs. Corning asked.

  “Emma first came to us for help for Marilee. It was through Emma’s words that we were able to put together the pieces of the puzzle. I can honestly say that Marilee wouldn’t be alive today if it wasn’t for Emma. Your daughter is a hero.”

  Rob sent the video link to Mrs. Corning, and she clutched her phone to her chest. “Thank you. You gave us our daughter back.”

  “Your secret is safe with us,” Mr. Corning said. “You have our eternal gratitude.”

  We watched them walk back toward the precinct parking lot. Rob walked with me to my car. When we reached it, I turned toward him. Without a word, he pulled me into his arms. I wondered if he would kiss me, but instead he grinned a crooked grin and let me go. “We did good,” he said.

  “Yeah, we make a good team.”

  “A great team.” He looked at me and I looked back defiantly. The connection between us crackled in the air. Until he cleared his throat and backed up a step. “Uh, I should get back. I’ll stop over this evening for my stuff.”

  “But, aren’t you—”

  “You’d probably like to have your house back. I don’t want to be in the way. I’m much better, and I don’t have any trouble getting around. You’ve been great, and I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I don’t want to take advantage.”

  I wanted to argue. To be honest, I wanted to plead. But I didn’t do either. I just nodded and said, “Okay. See you later.”

  I sat in my car watching him walk across the grass, cross the street and disappear into the police station. My heart ached with tears wanting to fall, but there wasn’t time for tears.

  It was almost time to pick TJ up from camp. I headed straight to the church and sat in the car while I waited, gazing out the window at nothing. At least, to me it seemed like nothing. The cloud hanging over my head obscured anything outside the car I might have seen.

  Had I misread everything? I thought it was me who didn’t want to start anything. Maybe he was simply a nice guy with no ulterior motive. That was fine. I mean, nothing really had changed. Even though I’d let the thought of having Rob in my life slip in, I’d just slip it back out. Boy, was my radar off.

  The arrival of TJ’s bus pulled me out of my malaise, and I plastered a big smile on my face when he came running up to the car. It wouldn’t do to let him know his mother’s heart was broken again.

  With no energy to do anything about dinner, I suggested pizza to TJ and watched him bounce all the way upstairs to get washed up while I placed the order.

  I carried the folded sheets Rob had slept on into the laundry room and set them on top of the washing machine to deal with later. I wouldn’t need them down here anymore. I really didn’t mean to slam the laundry room door behind me.

  When the doorbell rang twenty minutes later, I handed TJ a twenty and sent him to collect the pizza.

  “Mom,” he called from the doorway.

  “What do you need, sweetie?” I responded, coming out of the kitchen.

  “Delivery for you!”

  “I’m not expecting anything,” I said, joining him at the front door.

  Sitting on a dolly was the rocking horse, wrapped in cellophane, a huge bow around its neck.

  “Can you sign for this?” the delivery guy said, sticking the receipt in front of me.

  “Oh, sure,” I said, not able to take my eyes off the horse. “Who is this from?”

  “Don’t ask me, lady. I’m just supposed to deliver it. Check the card.”

  I stepped aside as he wheeled the parcel inside. I directed him to a spot against one wall, took the twenty back from TJ and handed it to the guy. “Thanks,” I said, closing the door behind him.

  “Who sent it, Mom?” TJ asked. “It’s so cool!”

  “I don’t know,” I said, reaching for the card dangling from the bow.

  It had to be yours, the card read. Otherwise, I might never have met you. Love, Rob.

  Love, Rob. It took my breath away. My heart leapt into my throat and my hand flew to my mouth.

  The doorbell sounded again and TJ said, “Should I get it, Mom?”

  I waved toward my handbag where it sat on the coffee table. “Can you get another twenty out of my purse? It’s probably the pizza guy.”

  He snagged the twenty and headed for the front door. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the horse.

  “It’s not the pizza guy,” a voice said, and I looked up to see Rob grinning down at me.

  “Oh, Rob,” I cried, jumping to my feet. I threw my arms around his neck.

  “Like
it?” he asked, smiling down at me.

  “I love it.” Before I could stop myself, I said, “And I love you.”

  His eyes searched my face, and I blushed when his gaze traveled to my mouth. He kissed me, but pulled back and looked at me.

  Grabbing his tie, I pulled him close, kissing him with a longing I’d been denying for a long time.

  Reluctantly, I broke away and buried my face against his chest, his arms engulfing me. He kissed the top of my head and I felt myself glow all the way from my head to my toes.

  He wasn’t Tom. No. He was Rob Porter. And maybe that was enough.

  Actually, it was everything.

  —

  Acknowledgments

  I want to thank everyone who helped me along the path to bringing “Under the Willows” to publication. Many huge thanks to my sisters Sheila and Michelle, who read through the manuscript, more than once, offering corrections and suggestions. And encouragement! And my niece Elise is always eager to pitch in with proofreading or helping with plot ideas.

  I also have to thank my friend Mike Oldham who gave me a couple of storyline ideas that I actually used.

  And, lastly, thanks to my wonderful publishing team, which includes Acorn Publishing, Jessica and Holly, my editor Shelly Stinchcomb, Debbie Kennedy for formatting, and Dane at Ebook Launch for the gorgeous book cover.

  I also have to express my gratitude to my family and friends for their enthusiastic support.

 

 

 


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