by Jamie Beck
She knew they wouldn’t put a heavy bottle on top, because it would go down with any decent hit, so she’d certainly made the best choice available. She glanced at Emmy. “Think I can do it this time?”
Emmy looked at war with herself for being intrigued, but nodded. “I guess so.”
Ryan’s grin grew larger. He winked at Steffi, which was all the encouragement she needed. Times like this made her lifetime of keeping up with three brothers pay off. She hauled off her final throw for another perfect shot. This time all three bottles went down.
“Wow!” Emmy hopped to the counter, planted her hands there, and hoisted herself until her feet left the ground. “Can I have that pink bunny?”
“Sure.” Steffi beamed at her. Ryan mouthed “Thank you” over his daughter’s head. If things were less strained, perhaps he would’ve squeezed Steffi’s hand or given her a kiss. Maybe someday . . .
The booth runner spoke to Emmy. “One pink bunny coming your way.”
Ryan leaned forward so the young guy could hear him easily. “How about you don’t rig this game for the rest of the day, and I won’t report this to anyone?”
The kid nodded. “I just work here, dude.”
“I know,” Ryan replied, then handed Emmy the monstrous toy, which was half Emmy’s size and would certainly be a pain in the butt to tote through the fair. No wonder more people didn’t try to win these things.
Emmy squeezed it, wearing a giant smile before she must’ve remembered that she’d rather have her mother there. Smile tempered, she politely turned to Steffi. “Thank you, Miss Steffi.”
“You’re welcome.” Steffi wanted to ruffle her hair, or something, but wouldn’t force Emmy’s affections. “What will you name her?”
“What do you think, Dad?” Emmy hugged the toy again.
“Pinky Lee?” he said.
“What?” Emmy grimaced. Even Steffi had to wonder where he’d pulled that old reference from.
“Pink Panther?” he offered next.
“It’s a bunny, not a panther.” Emmy shook her head, the hint of a playful smile reappearing.
“EB?” Steffi ventured.
Both Ryan and Emmy turned their confused faces her way. “Huh?”
“Energizer Bunny . . . he’s pink.” She shrugged.
“This is a girl,” Emmy said.
Steffi decided not to ask how she knew that, or why it mattered.
“Obviously, this will take more thought. In the meantime, why not let me carry that for a while?” Ryan reached for the toy. “I might not throw as well as Steffi, but I can manage that big toy a little easier than you.”
“No.” Emmy twisted. “I’ve got it.”
“I like your style, kiddo.” Steffi smiled.
“My lot in life is to be outnumbered by opinionated women.” Ryan kissed Emmy’s head.
He stood just a couple of inches from Steffi now. She could feel the warmth of him and longed to hold his hand. Instead, she shoved hers in her jacket pockets. “You’re a lucky guy, aren’t you?”
“Very.” His eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Why don’t you two go to the burger hut and order lunch? I need to make a quick stop in the men’s room, and then I’ll meet you.”
“Sounds good.” Steffi turned to Emmy, somewhat anxious about being left in charge of a small child in such a chaotic environment. “Want to hold hands? It’s pretty crowded here.”
“I’m okay.”
“See you shortly,” Ryan said before trotting off to the portable toilets at the far side of the fields.
Steffi glanced at Emmy, whose stubborn streak showed no signs of surrender.
“Let’s weave through there and find a picnic table.” Together they snaked through the intersection of people waiting in lines for tickets and rides and food vendors.
The unseasonably warm October day had drawn a substantial crowd. Overhead, a colorful canopy of ocher and vermilion leaves rustled in the breeze. The sound of the circus calliope filtered through the crowd, making Steffi hum along to its manic tune. Emmy straggled two steps behind, trying to keep up while clinging to the bunny.
Steffi didn’t offer to help a second time. It wouldn’t hurt Emmy to learn to take care of herself or, conversely, to learn the consequences of not asking for help. Of course, Steffi had yet to master that second lesson.
They found an open table near the burger shack, where Steffi would have a clear shot of Emmy while standing in line. Ryan would be back momentarily, too. “Do you want to sit here while I stand in line?”
“Okay.” Emmy set the bunny on the seat beside her. “Can I have a cheeseburger?”
“Of course. Maybe fries, too?” Steffi went to stand in line, where her thoughts wandered to Ryan. They’d had no privacy today, so she couldn’t tell whether he regretted dragging Emmy along.
He’d promised a clean slate, and despite Emmy’s poor attitude, he’d made his intentions clear. He’d sent Val packing, making room for Steffi’s hopes to bloom.
While smiling to herself, in her peripheral vision she noticed two large men with dark hair walking in her direction. They laughed loudly, and one made a mock gun with two fingers and held it to his friend’s temple.
The crowd closed in as a high-pitched hum resounded in her ears.
A click echoed before a cold pistol pressed against her temple. “Don’t make a sound, bitch.”
“Grab her purse.”
“I’ll grab it all . . .”
Don’t be stupid. Don’t die. Please don’t die.
No. No, no, no.
Fly away . . . fly away.
“Hey, lady, are you okay?” the teenage boy who’d caught her from behind asked. Had she fainted?
“I’m sorry.” She clutched her purse as she wrested free of his hold. She barely met his eyes while curling her arms and shoulders inward, hoping to disappear.
Like smoke, her thoughts vaporized into thin air. She prodded her memory but could only recall seeing two large men joking with each other. Maybe her brother and Ryan were right. Being mugged and beaten might’ve done more than physical damage.
Ryan appeared at her side, his face drawn and tight. “What’s wrong? You look lost.”
“I’m okay.” She rubbed her temple, willing herself to smile and hoping to avoid another interrogation about her mental health. “Low blood sugar? I’ll be fine once we eat.”
He looked around her. “Where’s Emmy?”
“Over there.” She pointed to the picnic table to see, too late, that only the bunny remained.
“Where?” Ryan asked, his voice strained.
Her heart literally stopped as her thoughts splintered in slow motion. “I told her to wait there. I could see her from here.”
He started toward the table, snapping, “If you could see her, then where’d she go?”
“I don’t know.” Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision as she chased after him.
Ryan whirled around on her. “So you weren’t watching?”
“I was, then these guys walked by . . .” Their image flashed through her mind. “One pretended to shoot . . . and I . . . I . . .”
“You zoned out?” Ryan waved her off and called out, “Emmy? Where are you?”
Steffi asked nearby picnickers, “Did you see the little girl who was sitting here? Did you see where she went?”
“No, sorry,” came the blithe response of some tween girls who could barely raise their eyes from their phones.
“I’ll grab a security guard while you keep searching.” Ryan took off, and all the while Steffi saw his head twisting and turning, searching for his child. The one she’d lost.
She canvassed a few more tables. Finally, one skinny kid with a waterfall cowlick said, “I saw a girl with ribbons run that way.” He pointed toward the edge of the field where the portable toilets stood.
“Was she alone?”
He shrugged. “I think so.”
Steffi took off toward the bathrooms, making her way through the teeming
crowd, which zigzagged across the fairground. Her typical agility eluded her. Her limbs felt stiff and rusty as her pulse pounded in her ears. She told herself Emmy hadn’t been taken. Ryan could have easily missed seeing her on his way back from the toilets as he waded through the dense crowds.
When she got to the long row of potties, her heart raced faster than during any training run with Benny. She whipped her head left and right. No sign of Emmy or her ribbons. She cupped her hands around her mouth like a megaphone. “Has anyone seen a little girl in a pink ruffled dress with hair ribbons? Dark curly hair, about this tall?”
People shook their heads or ignored her. She wrung her hands, but it didn’t stop them from shaking or her legs from weakening. Then her phone rang. “Ryan?”
“I got her.” His voice was rough with emotion.
Steffi collapsed against a nearby tree, palm pressed to her forehead. “Where are you?”
“Heading back to the picnic tables to get the bunny.” He hung up without saying more.
She jogged back to the tables on wobbly legs. With the threat removed and her adrenaline spike draining, she barked, “What happened, Emmy? Why’d you leave?”
She hadn’t meant to shout. She hadn’t even meant to be angry. Panic brought out the worst in her.
“You fainted, so I went to find my dad,” Emmy cried. Ryan hugged her to his chest and kissed her head, murmuring in her ear to soothe her.
Seems Steffi had given everyone a good scare.
“Oh,” she replied. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I was afraid. And I’m sorry if I scared you when I fainted.”
“Can we go home now?” Emmy said into Ryan’s shirt, not really looking at Steffi.
“Sure.” Ryan stood, also avoiding eye contact. “Get your bunny and we’ll go.”
“I’m sorry,” Steffi repeated stupidly, as if that would help. She didn’t want to leave the fair like some quitter but had lost the will to force more “fun.”
The world’s heaviest silence made the five-mile drive back to Sanctuary Sound feel like a ten-hour trip. When Ryan passed the turnoff to her street, Steffi pointed. “You missed my street.”
“I want to drop Emmy with my mom first, then I’ll take you home.”
Those words might’ve made her hopeful if he’d smiled or reached across the console and taken her hand. Instead, his eyes had remained fixed on the road, his brows drawn together in thought.
Steffi sighed as he pulled up to his mother’s house. She turned toward the back seat. “Emmy, I’m really sorry today wasn’t more fun for you. I hope we can do something else together soon. Maybe you can pick the adventure next time.”
Emmy shrugged without saying much and then slid out of the car.
“Wait here, I’ll only be a minute.” Ryan got out of the car and walked Emmy inside. True to his word, he returned quickly and pulled away from the curb. “Is Claire home?”
“I have no idea.” An hour ago, she’d have paid for time alone with him. Now she wished he’d dropped her off first. “You’re mad at me, huh?”
“I’m not mad.” He scowled.
She shifted in her seat. “Look in the mirror.”
He glanced in the rearview mirror before sighing. “I’m upset and concerned, and I’m pissed that there’s no place private where we can talk.”
“It’s private here in the car,” she pointed out as he pulled up to her house. “I don’t see Claire’s car on the street, so she must be out.”
“Good.” He got out of the car and then followed her into the house.
She tossed her purse on an obliging chair and raked her hand through her hair. “Listen, I know I messed up. I shouldn’t have left Emmy at the table, but I thought it was safe. She’s nine, not four. I knew I’d see her from where I was standing. I didn’t feel sick or think I would faint.”
“But that’s the problem, Steffi. You never know where or when these episodes will take place, and yet you won’t even consider a second opinion.” He inhaled and scrubbed his face, smoothing away his frustration. He tipped his head. “Could that be because you know something more about them than you’re willing to share with me?”
Her body recoiled. “Where is that coming from?”
Something new flickered in his eyes—suspicion?—but then he refocused. “From concern. From a need to know what’s happening to you so I can help. Don’t run away from it. Talk to me. Get answers. Stick it out. Fight through it.”
She crossed her arms. “Are we still talking about the present, or is this you drudging up the past again?”
“Does a clean slate mean I can’t point out stuff that could be a problem in the future? I want to see you well, for your sake and for your business’s sake. This affects our relationship, too. And after today, I can’t ignore the danger these episodes pose to Emmy. What if you’re driving her somewhere and it happens? You owe it to yourself, and to me, to be honest—at least with yourself. Don’t settle for living this way without trying everything possible to fix it, regardless of what others or your family might think about how that happens.”
“I’m not hiding anything, if that’s what you’re implying.”
He opened his mouth, then shut it, gazing at her through narrowed eyes. “You honestly have no recollection of the moments or thoughts just before you fainted? No guesses as to why this keeps happening to you?”
She shook her head.
“If it isn’t a tumor or epilepsy, is it possible that the trauma you suffered in the spring is worse than you want to admit?”
“Quit trying to make me a victim.” She turned on him while massaging the hard knot forming in her stomach.
“That’s not my goal. I’m exploring . . . ideas.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “You clearly have a theory. Might as well share it.”
His expression tightened into a concerned frown, his eyes misting until he blinked. He clasped his elbows and paced a few steps. “I’m not a professional. You should consult with someone who is.”
“You’re so desperate for an answer that will ‘fix’ me. What if you’re wrong and I’m right? What if it’s mild brain damage from too many concussions? Are you willing to take that—me—on if that’s the case?” She bit her pinkie nail. “I wouldn’t blame you if you bailed. Your hands are already full.”
“I don’t bail!”
The granite ball in her stomach moved to her throat. She took a step back, maybe two, fighting the tears that formed behind her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, then walked toward her, reaching out. “I’m sorry. I’m just feeling powerless. If there’s a chance this can get better or be healed, let me help you. If the roles were reversed, I’d take your concerns seriously.”
Ryan stared into space for a moment, tugging at his earlobe. “I’m here for you, and I’ll stand by you, no matter what, but I need to know that you trust me. I need to know you’ll confide in me and commit to facing the truth, no matter how scary that seems. Is that unfair to ask?”
Her gaze dropped as she shook her head. “You’re always fair, Ryan.”
He gathered her into a hug. “I want things to work out for us this time. Please put some faith in me, Steffi.”
For the first time all day, her muscles relaxed.
Ryan stopped short of voicing his suspicions. Without proof, he wouldn’t risk upsetting her more, or worse, planting a seed that could aggravate her condition.
He didn’t want to read too much into the fact that none of their plans had gone well this weekend, or take it as some sign that their time had come and gone a decade ago.
“Emmy hates me now,” Steffi muttered against his chest.
He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her. “She doesn’t hate you. She just needs to let go of her fantasy, which will be tough if Val pulls more stunts like she did this weekend.”
Steffi eased away. “I’m sorry. This isn’t about me. It’s about you and your daughter. I still can’t beli
eve Val doesn’t want physical custody.”
“Val doesn’t know what she wants.” He swallowed hard at the recollection of his wife’s heart-to-heart at Campiti’s.
She flopped onto the sofa, looking absolutely spent. “She wants you back.”
He sat beside her and blew out a long sigh. “Val wants something from me that she never got. I honestly tried to be happy . . . I thought I loved her enough. Turns out, in marriage, that type of love won’t get you through the low points.” He hung his head for a second, then glanced at her. “John obviously gives her something I never could, and maybe, right now, she needs that more than anything. Maybe she can’t be a good mom until her heart is whole again.”
“You’re being very generous.” Steffi rubbed his shoulder. “Is that guilt talking?”
“Maybe a little.” He grimaced, hoping that opening up to her this way would encourage her to do the same. “I wish Emmy weren’t caught in the middle, and that I knew she’d end up okay.”
“She will.”
He stared at the ground, head involuntarily nodding. “We can’t predict the future, though, can we?”
“I guess not.” She gestured around the room. “I never expected to be here at thirty. Or to get close to you again.”
She body-bumped his side as a shy grin emerged.
“That’s been a lucky surprise.” He took hold of her hand, needing to end the afternoon on a peaceful note for both their sakes.
“One good thing has come out of the past several weeks. More will follow.”
“I admit I’ve enjoyed having Emmy to myself here.” Chagrin forced a wan smile. “It’d be perfect if I hadn’t screwed up her life.”
“Don’t shoulder all the blame for your divorce. Besides, there is a silver lining. This experience will teach Emmy resilience. Few things matter more than that.” Steffi’s gaze softened and fell to the floor. “My mom’s death was mostly awful, but I survived it even when I didn’t think I would. If she’d lived and my life had been easier, maybe I wouldn’t have gone on to be so competitive in sports, gotten a scholarship, or started my own business. Not that I wouldn’t rather she lived, of course. But Emmy will come out stronger, like I did. I know it. She just needs a little time.”