“She wore a yellow dress, Papa, just like the flowers on my dress. And she gave me a popsicle too. But Daisy ate it. Well, she licked it. But then she sat. Papa, she sat. And my friend, she likes Daisy. She says she's a good puppy.” Emmie's face beamed with happiness as the secret burst out of her.
Jack looked at her picture again. At the two little girls in a field of yellow flowers and Daisy sitting beside them. This must be the age of imaginary friends. Jack tried to remember if Mary ever went through this stage, but he didn't think she had.
Jack turned back to the ingredients on the counter. It had been awhile since he last surprised his girls with a homemade breakfast, but if memory served, French toast wasn't that hard.
“Can I play with her, Papa?” His shirt tugged at the back. He looked over his shoulder and saw Emmie's hand had a firm hold on his shirt.
“Of course you can. Any friend who likes Daisy is a good one.” No harm in that. He'd read an article in one of those parent magazines he bought Dottie for Christmas. A child's imagination is a powerful tool.
“Now?”
About to crack open an egg, Jack stopped. Now?
“Well, if you want to? But be quiet okay, Grandma's still sleeping.”
He expected to hear her footsteps scurry up the stairs, but instead it was the sound of the screen door as it slammed into its frame that shocked him. Dottie had been after him to fix the hinge on that door, but right at this moment, he was glad he hadn't.
Jack dropped a half-cracked egg into the bowl and hurried over to the door. Emmie, half way across the yard, was skipping up the hill to the fence that separated their property from the neighbors.
“Emmie!”
She stopped mid-skip and turned. He could see the confusion on her face. He blinked his eyes. So, not an imaginary friend? He motioned with his hand for her to come back and waited. She didn't skip back. She took tiny steps with her head bent as she held the picture in her hand, one trailed to the side. When she reached the porch, he held out his hand and waited for her to take it.
“Emmie, you still have your pajamas on. You can't go out to play in those.”
His granddaughter looked up at him, hope filled her eyes.
“After?”
He didn't know how to respond. He thought she was talking about an imaginary friend, not the kids from next door. But when she looked up at him with those big baby blue eyes, saying no wasn't an option. He ruffled her hair a bit.
“Tell you what, Princess, after breakfast we'll talk to Grandma and see what she has to say.”
The moment Emmie's eyes clouded over and her bottom lip stuck out in a royal pout, he knew he'd said the wrong thing. Seemed like Dottie had been a tad bit overprotective lately. He watched as Emmie stared at the picture she held in her hands. He might be an old man with a waning memory, but he could still put two and two together. His baby girl found a new friend, 'bout time too.
“You know, having friends is never a bad thing. I know Grandma agrees too. That there picture in your hand is pretty nice and you spent a lot of time making it for your friend, didn't you?”
Emmie nodded her head, her mishmash of curls bounced all over the place.
“Then there's no reason why you can't give it to your friend later. Okay? But first, it's time for ...”
“BREAKFAST!” Emmie shouted before her hands flew up to her mouth in shock. “Oops, sorry.”
Jack chuckled. It was time for Dottie to get up anyway, and he had breakfast to make apparently.
*****
Dottie waved the oven mitt in front of her face. The cool breeze from the action helped to cool her down. Why she decided to bake this afternoon was beyond her. It was too hot out.
She poured herself a glass of cold water and held it against her neck. Its coolness refreshed her.
The phone rang on the little desk by the kitchen table. Dottie sighed as she waddled across the kitchen to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Dottie? It's Doug,” a voice croaked through the phone to her.
Dottie paused. It had been a long time since she'd heard Doug's voice. A long time indeed. She could hear his age when he said his name. But then, they had both grown old, hadn't they?
“I know who it is. Supposin' you want to talk to Jack,” Dottie said. She swore she'd never forgive him. A good Christian woman always kept her word.
“How are you?” The hesitation in his voice came through loud and clear. He wanted to talk to her. She sighed. It had been too long. Time didn't always heal old wounds.
“I'm fine, Doug. But then you know that, don't you? You spend enough time with my husband.”
“He forgave me a long time ago. I was hopin' you'd do the same,” Doug's voice was low.
“And what exactly would I be forgiving you for? For trying to take my husband's place in this house? For telling me he was dead? For taking on the role of father to my daughter? For trying to steal my heart?” Dottie swallowed the ache in her heart. No sense crying over spilled milk now. Took her and Jack too many years to try to patch up what Doug had wanted to break.
“That was a long time ago. Everything I did was with pure intentions. You know that. Don't be making it out to be more than it was. I don't recall you pushing me away either.”
Dottie pulled the desk chair out and sat down. He was right. She didn't pull away. Doug was there for her when she was more alone than she'd thought possible when Jack had joined the army. She didn't like to think about that time. Alone, with a small child while her husband needed to do his duty as a man and shoot men he didn't know. She'd been weak. Alone and weak.
“You were his best friend,” Dottie's voice cracked.
“I thought I was yours too.”
Dottie shook her head, only to realize he couldn't see her.
“No, Doug. You were my husband's best friend. That was it. That's all you will ever be to me.”
That section of her heart that she'd locked away all those years ago crumpled into fine dust at the words. Too many years had passed.
She hung up the phone without saying goodbye.
*****
The creak of the old wood porch swing filled the air as Jack held a glass of iced tea in his hand. Sweat beads formed under his hat trickled their way down his forehead, cheeks and the back of his neck. He surveyed his world below and let out a sigh of contentment.
He took a swig of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Nothing better than sitting in the shade on a hot day. The breeze cooled him down, somewhat. It had to be cooler out here than it was inside the house. Why, on such a hot day, would Dottie insist on baking a loaf of bread and muffins he would never know. He offered to go into town and pick up some already baked but she balked at the idea. She was in a funny mood today.
Emmie's screams filled the front yard. Daisy must have splashed her again with water. He'd pulled the pool out of the garden shed after breakfast, gave it a good rinse and set it under the maple tree in the front yard. At least that girl had one friend, even if it was a dog. Little girls need to laugh, giggle and scream with delight every now and then. Maybe he'd pick her up a few more water toys next time he ran into town. Some of those bubble containers too. He liked to watch her twirl around on his grass with those wands.
The front screen door screeched on its hinge as Dottie pushed it open with her back. She carried the pitcher of iced tea in one hand and balanced glasses in the other.
“Here, let me take that.” He set the iced tea down on the little table he'd made a few years back. The paint chipped in spots and peeled in others. Time for a fresh coat. Another project to add to the list. One that grew no matter how hard he worked to shorten it. He'd like to meet the person who thought up the term 'retirement'. There was nothing retiring about it.
“Did I hear the phone ring?” he asked.
Dottie stood at the porch steps with her back to him. Jack wasn't sure if she heard him or not.
“Girl sure does like that dog,” she said
. A faraway look had settled in her eyes when she turned.
Jack patted the cushion beside him. He waited until she was settled before he placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him. She leaned in with a sigh before she placed her head on his shoulder.
“Baking all done?” Jack pushed his feet against the floorboards and started a rocking motion with the swing.
“On the counter to cool.”
Jack drew lazy circles on Dottie's arm with his fingers. He enjoyed the comfort, the security of this moment. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes and smiled.
“Thanks for breakfast,” Dottie said.
He heard the laughter in her voice. There was a reason why he didn't make breakfast that often. Emmie's yell might not have woken her up, but the smoke alarm sure did. She'd thrown on her housecoat and was in the midst of tightening the sash around her waist when she made it down the stairs. Emmie stood on a chair and waved a kitchen towel in the air, while Jack coughed up a lung as he stood over the stove trying to find a flipper to rescue the poor piece of French toast burning in the pan. Dottie poured a glass of water, handed it to Jack and pushed him out of the way while she rescued the breakfast he screwed up. Emmie obviously found it hilarious, if her squeals of laughter were any proof.
“At least I tried,” Jack mumbled. His face blazed red. If anything, that whole debacle should earn him some brownie points for later on.
Emmie's laughter drifted along with the late morning breeze. A huge smile wreathed her face as she danced along the grass. When she reached the porch, she plopped down on the top step and waited for Daisy to reach her. Dottie pulled away from him to pour Emmie a glass of iced tea. Emmie gulped it down, drained of every drop before she handed it back.
“Thanks, Grandma. Can Daisy have some too?” A cheeky smile took place on her face as she waited for another glass.
“Your dog can drink out of that pool, thank-you-very-much. I'm not wasting my tea on any animal that would lap it up with her tongue.” Dottie set the pitcher of tea back on the table and folded her arms.
“Like this?” Emmie stuck her tongue in her glass and tried to imitate her puppy.
Dottie scowled while Jack just laughed. He shooed her away before she could get into more trouble and pulled Dottie back in the swing until she rested back against his arm. Dottie shook her head.
“That girl ...” she said.
Jack rubbed her arm. “Oh, leave her be. That puppy is her only playmate. She needs to be around other kids, having that dog as her only friend can't be all that good for her. What about when she goes off to school?”
Dottie's body stiffened in his arms. She pulled away from his body and sat up straight.
“Now, Dottie --” Jack said.
Dottie turned and looked at him, the fury evident from the darts her eyes shot at him. Back in the day, she used to be pretty good at darts. Guess she hasn't lost the eye for it.
“Don't you now Dottie me, Jack Henry! Are you telling me how to raise our granddaughter?” Dottie bristled under the imagined accusation.
If Jack didn't know better, he'd swear he saw steam coming out of her ears. He made it a point to keep his tone down, steady and calm, just like one would when about to corner a skittish colt. He patted her hand and didn't flinch when she moved it away. Instead, he grabbed her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. She jerked a bit but settled down when he wouldn't let go.
“All I'm sayin', Dottie mine, is that our little girl is growing up and she needs other playmates than just two old bitties tinkering around the house. She'll head to school in another year and then what? That little girl is itchin' to spread her wings. She needs to find other girls to do the same.”
Emmie pranced around the yard, in and out of the kiddie pool with Daisy following after her. His little angel. He smiled as he watched her and glanced at Dottie, sure she would be smiling too. Except she wasn't.
“Jack, I --” Dottie stopped, pursed her lips and wouldn't continue.
Jack waited, gave her space to compose her thoughts, but when he realized she wasn't going to budge, he decided to continue.
“The boys want to meet her too. I think Doug is a bit hurt that I haven't brought her around yet.”
Dottie didn't look at him. The topic of Doug was one they tried to avoid. While it took years for Jack to forgive what happened, he knew Dottie never would. Forgive herself or Doug. When Jack returned from the war, he found out that Doug had taken his promise of watching over Dottie quite literal. He'd fallen in love with her. Jack knew he'd never recovered. It's why he was still single. His heart was already taken.
“Too bad for Doug,” Dottie muttered. Jack bit his lip. Years of silence on the subject didn't mean it went away.
Emmie flopped herself down on the front lawn. Jack chuckled as he watched Daisy jump all over her.
“She’s lonely, Dot,” Jack said. “Don't you remember our Mary at this age? Why, we couldn't keep her home long enough to brush her hair. And if she wasn't over at Jenna’s house, then Jenna was here, badgering us.”
The memories of the tight friendships they'd built over the years, the neighbors who'd lived next door through the course of their lives and the friends Mary used to bring home filled his heart. He squeezed Dottie's hand, wanting to share the happiness with her, but her hand remained still. He sighed. And things were looking on the bright side this morning.
“Mary was a little older than Emmie.” Dottie whispered into the gentle summer breeze. Jack almost didn't hear her.
“How is Mary? Have you heard from her?”
He was desperate to hear about his daughter, but he squashed the pain in his heart down. Jack looked down and noticed Dottie's hand was white. He unlaced his fingers from hers and began to rub the circulation back. Dottie didn't notice, she just sat there, still, only the rise of her chest let him know she were still breathing.
“No.”
“No? No, what?” Jack asked.
A deep sigh escaped out of Dottie's mouth. Her shoulders slumped as if the weight of that one words was too hard to bear.
“No Jack, I haven't heard from Mary. She's dead to me, to us. She died the moment we got Emmie.”
Jack turned and stared at her in shock. He didn't know the woman who sat beside him. Dead to her? Our daughter? Jack pulled his hand away from hers. He watched as her hand fell to the cushion, a dead weight.
“Emmie is all that matters now. Don't you understand? She's our second chance.” Dottie's voice broke. Tears filled her eyes before trickled down her wrinkled cheeks.
Jack brushed them away with his thumb. He waited. This was the woman he knew and loved. Where she went moments ago he had no idea, but he'd do his best to ensure she never went back there.
A bee buzzed by the front porch and landed in the hanging baskets. Jack watched as it whisked its way through the flowers. Emmie's laughter echoed through the yard. He thought back to the days when Mary was a little girl. They didn't have a pool, but she sure loved to jump through the sprinkler.
“Okay. As long as she stays close by and doesn't go anywhere without one of us knowing.” Dottie exhaled long and hard.
It hurt Jack's heart to know how tough that was for Dottie. For her to give up control. It shouldn't have been.
“Just the neighbor. We can go over and introduce ourselves, just like the old days. What do you say?”
Dottie angled her body until she faced Jack on the bench. He pushed his foot down so they stopped rocking. A pained look filled her eyes as she grabbed onto Jack's hands. Her grip surprised him. He felt her nails dig into the palm of his hand. He searched her face as he tried to understand the reason for the sudden desperation.
“I've already lost one daughter, Jack, I can't lose another. Emmie is all that matters. Jack, promise me. Promise me you won't lose her too.” Dottie pleaded with him.
Jack was stunned into silence. What is going on?
With a flick of his wrist, Jack managed to loosen the grip Dottie h
eld. He took her ice cold hands into his and rubbed them. He swallowed, shaken by Dottie's words. Jack's perfect domain crumbled like a stack of cards. Emmie played in the pool, oblivious to the cracks in the facade of their perfect family. Jack drank in the face of the woman who sat beside him. The face of the woman he didn't recognize. A sad smile settled on his lips, his voice cracked as he tried to echo the promise Dottie needed from him.
“I promise, Dottie-mine. I will do whatever it takes to keep the girls of my heart safe. I promise.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The house was quiet. Too quiet.
Dottie had coaxed Emmie to have a nap with her, which left Jack to fend for himself. He puttered around in the yard, dragged the pool to the backyard since he knew a certain little miss would want to splash in there later, and made himself a peanut butter sandwich.
Without thinking, he cut the crust off the bread and sat down to eat it at the kitchen table. It wasn't until he took a bite of the crustless sandwich that he realized what he'd done. Mary would only eat her sandwiches if the crust was off. It used to be a battle of wills between her and Dottie.
Jack set the sandwich back down on the plate. He missed his daughter. Emmie did a lot to fill that empty hole in his heart, but it wasn't enough. A lot of years had passed since he last spoke to her. Even more since he'd last seen her.
He pushed the plate away and walked into the front room. One wall was covered in framed pictures. Many of them were of Mary as a child. Jack stared at his favorite photo, taken on a summer day. Jack carried Mary on his shoulders, her smile wide as she clung to the sides of his head. He could still hear her laughter, how it rang out across the park. They'd been having a picnic. It had been a good day.
He lifted the photo off its hook on the wall and carried it to the old desk by the back door. Dottie normally kept a little phone book there, but it was covered in pictures Emmie had drawn, receipts, and odd lists Dottie would make.
Jack pulled out the drawer and searched inside, pushing aside pens, pencils, rulers but didn't find the phone book. He pushed the drawer back in and grunted. Where was that phonebook?
Finding Emma Page 9