“It’s okay, baby.”
But it wasn’t. Emma was terrified. She had no idea what was happening to her son or how to stop it.
“I’m tired.”
She tucked him into bed and kissed his cheek. “We get to spend the day together tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to go to work?”
She smiled. “Not tomorrow.”
Standing, she reached to turn off the lamp.
“Mommy, can I sleep with the light on?”
He’d never wanted a night-light before. “Of course, baby.”
After rubbing his forehead, she left his room, cracking the door behind her. She leaned into the wall, choking back her tears. She had to figure out a way to help him. Maybe the director had been right. Maybe he needed psychological help.
Moving to the kitchen, Emma made a cup of tea and wished she had someone to talk to. A partner to help her with these decisions. But between Jake and her job, which had longer hours than acceptable with a small child, there was no time for men and dating. And she sure wasn’t falling for the lines her boss threw at her.
She’d been foolish enough to fall for pretty words and a pretty face once. And look where that got her.
The thought filled her with guilt. That got her the little boy in the next room. He was her entire world, and while she’d love to redo the circumstances of his conception, she’d never, ever wish he wasn’t hers.
The phone rang, making her jump in surprise. She didn’t have many friends, no family she kept in contact with. The phone rarely rang. Putting down her cup, she reached for the phone.
“Hello?”
The silence that followed unnerved her. Finally a man asked, “Emma Thompson?”
She considered hanging up. Something in the voice on the other side of the line frightened her. But what if it was Child Protective Services? “Who’s calling?”
She was greeted with more silence. Then a dial tone.
Her heart raced.
Calm down. It was probably a sales call. But she double-checked the doors and windows anyway.
The next morning Emma called in sick to work, thankful that Tyler was away from his desk and she could leave a message. Aside from Tyler’s wrath, she still had to deal with an angry client, but nothing could be done about that.
Next she called the nanny service. Emma needed to be a model employee to keep her job. If she had a nanny watching Jake at home, she wouldn’t have to worry about leaving work late or Jake getting sick. And perhaps Jake would have fewer incidents if he weren’t around other children. She breathed a sigh of relief when the agency agreed to send someone for her to interview later that morning.
While she picked up Jake’s toys and stuffed them into a basket, the phone rang again.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Who is this?”
Nothing.
She quickly pushed the off button, holding the phone to her chest. Why was she letting these phone calls get to her? She was becoming paranoid.
The doorbell rang promptly at eleven and Emma found a plump, elderly woman on her doorstep.
The woman smiled. “Hello, dear. I’m Mrs. Pemberton and I’m here about the nanny position.”
“Thank you for coming.” Emma led her to the living room and gestured to the sofa. “Please, have a seat.”
“And where’s my future charge?” The woman swiveled her head, searching the room.
“He’s playing in his room right now so we can talk first.”
The woman clasped her hands and chuckled. “Of course, dear. Quite right. What a sensible girl you are.”
“Thank you.” Emma looked down to hide her frown. Something about the woman didn’t seem right, which was insane. If Emma had special-ordered a nanny, Mrs. Pemberton was exactly what she’d have picked: a warm grandma figure with a cheerful smile. So why did she make Emma so nervous?
“Why don’t you tell me about your boy. He’s two?”
“Yes, but he’s always been very mature for his age. He’s an only child and it’s just he and I.”
“No father in the picture?”
“No.”
“No custody issues?”
Emma knew these were standard questions, but her hair stood on end. “No.”
“And what would my duties be?”
“Um...” Why did this woman make her so nervous? “I’m an accountant.”
“Oh, my. What a dry job for such a pretty thing.”
Emma shook her head, taken back by her statement. “No, I love it, actually. I just don’t love the hours. I’ve only been with the firm for a few years and it takes long hours to prove your loyalty. Unfortunately, long hours don’t work well with a small child. Which is why I decided to try a nanny. I’d rather Jake spend those hours at home with a loving caregiver than a sterile daycare.” While not entirely true, it sounded much better than telling her that Jake had been expelled.
“That is so smart of you, dear. I think the best thing for a child is his mother, but if that’s not an option, a grandmother is the next best thing. Does Jake not have a grandmother around to help?”
Emma stared at her for a moment. Had she told Jake’s name to Mrs. Pemberton? She knew she hadn’t told the agency. After she’d hung up this morning, she’d thought it odd that they hadn’t asked.
“No, my mother lives in Joplin, Missouri.”
“And you two aren’t close?”
“No.” Fear swamped her head, making it hard for her to concentrate. This was ridiculous. The woman in front of her looked harmless. Her questions were somewhat invasive but not threatening. So why did they feel otherwise?
“No other family then? It’s just you and Jake?”
Nausea churned in Emma’s stomach and she swiped at her forehead. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Pemberton, but I suddenly don’t feel well. Do you think we could reschedule?”
The older woman’s eyes widened. “Don’t be silly, dear. I’m already here and we’re almost done. I only need to meet Jake.”
Emma stood. “I’m really sorry. I—”
“Mommy?” Jake stood at the corner of the living room, staring at the older woman.
Mrs. Pemberton’s eyes narrowed and her mouth pulled into a tight line before she smiled again. “You must be Jake. I’m going to take care of you, won’t that be nice?”
Jake’s gaze turned to Emma’s, his face pale.
“I suddenly remembered Jake has a doctor’s appointment.” Emma pulled the older woman from the sofa and toward the door.
“Can’t you reschedule, dear? You know, I can help you with those kinds of things. Would you like me to come tomorrow?”
“But we didn’t even discuss a salary.”
The older woman placed a hand on her chest. “Didn’t we? Oh dear, now you’re going to think I’m senile.”
Emma pushed her to the door. “I’ll be in touch.”
Mrs. Pemberton looked over her shoulder. “But don’t—”
Emma shut the door and locked it, closing her eyes. She’d been unbelievably rude with no just cause. And she’d blown any chance of hiring a nanny from that agency.
“She was a bad woman.”
Emma froze. “What?”
“She was a bad woman. She works with the bad men.”
Choking back a sob of fear, she picked up him. “What do you mean? How do you know?”
“I just do. She’s bad.”
She sat in the chair, holding Jake on her lap while she stared at the place on the sofa where the woman had sat. If Mrs. Pemberton really was dangerous, she’d been in her house. Close to Jake.
“I should call the police.” But even as the words left her mouth, she knew the impossibility of it. What would she tell them? That she’d received strange phone calls and an elderly woman showed up for an interview that Emma had arranged?
For the first time in her life, she wasn’t sure what to do. Even after Jake’s conception, when she’d discovered her life had been thrown off her ca
refully planned track, she never questioned what to do. She graduated from college, seven months’ pregnant, and found a good corporate job in Little Rock with excellent benefits. Her life changed and she adapted. But how did she adapt to this? How did she protect her son?
“It’s going to be okay, Mommy.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
The fact that she counted on him being right proved how warped her life had become.
Chapter Three
Dread simmered in Emma’s chest all day, making her jumpy. Her encounter with Mrs. Pemberton had shaken her so badly she hadn’t left the house all day. And she hadn’t called any daycares. Which meant she had to call in sick again. Soon daycare wasn’t going to matter, because she wouldn’t have a job to go.
Get it together, Emma. This is ridiculous. She was an old woman and Emma had simply overreacted. Jake thought she was bad because he’d sensed Emma’s anxiety. In fact, the more she thought about it, she could attribute everything to Jake’s sensitivity. The children’s accidents had been a coincidence. Jake couldn’t predict the future. He was an intelligent child, mature for his age, and that frightened people.
After dinner, she’d convinced herself hiding at home was ridiculous and told Jake they were going to walk to the park.
He shook his head, backing away form her. “No, Mommy. It’s not safe.”
Emma chastised herself. Her paranoia had freaked Jake out. “It’s safe, Jake. Mommy was overreacting.”
Jake’s eyes welled with tears. “No, Mommy. We can’t.”
His fear scared her and she almost caved. But she wasn’t doing him any favors by catering to his irrational thoughts. Still, she had to be gentle with this. “How about we skip the park and just take a walk to the pond. We’ll take some bread and feed the ducks.”
He was silent for a moment then nodded. “Okay.”
The sun was low in the sky and the air was cooler than usual for September, so Emma slipped Jake’s arms into his jacket and zipped him up. “We can’t have you getting a cold now, can we?” She tapped him on his nose and laughed.
He usually giggled but instead looked at her with solemn eyes.
This was her fault. She’d encouraged this, bought into the stories he saw in his head. All it had done was make them both miserable, gotten him kicked out of two daycares, and made her paranoid and almost unemployed. That was all about to change.
“Let’s go feed some ducks!”
The evening air was crisp. The smell of burning leaves made her uneasy as they walked the block and a half to the neighborhood pond, the scent a reminder of an ugly night three years earlier. Jake clung to her hand tighter than usual, looking over his shoulder every few steps.
She was falling into paranoia again. “Let’s pretend like we’re pirates!”
“Okay.” But he sounded unconvinced.
When they reached the pond, Jake’s tension fell away as he tossed pieces of bread to the ducks. Emma watched him, overwhelmed with sadness. He’d always acted so much older than his age, testing at a three-year-old language level. His maturity often led her to forget he was really just a toddler. Maybe she’d stunted him developmentally. Maybe the stories in his head were his two-year-old way of saying that he needed to be a little boy.
Relieved to have an explanation for his behavior, she took his hand and he graced her with a smile. This was the answer. They needed more fun and frivolity and less work. Maybe she should look for a job with fewer hours, even if it meant less money. Sure, she was proud that she was twenty-four and owned a house and minivan, but she could downsize. She could get a condo and a sedan. Jake was more important than money and things.
They held hands on the walk home, singing a silly pirate song Jake had learned at his old daycare. Jake stumbled on an uneven patch of the sidewalk. Emma grabbed his arm to keep him from falling, shocked to see his fear-stricken face.
“Excuse me, miss.” A man stepped in front of her and blocked the sidewalk. “I’m missing my dog. Have you seen him?”
She would have answered him, but she was more concerned with Jake, who’d turned so pale she worried he was about to pass out. “Jake?”
The man stepped closer. “He looks a little worn out. Perhaps y’all need a lift home.”
The hair on the back of her neck pricked. She leaned over and picked Jake up. “Thank you, but we’re not far.”
The corners of his mouth lifted into something that was supposed to resemble a smile, but the hardness in his eyes suggested otherwise. “Please, I insist.”
Taking a step backward, she held Jake tighter and turned him away from the man. “No, we’re fine,” she forced out in spite of her erratic breathing.
He took another step toward her. “You don’t look fine.”
Emma scanned the street, finding it deserted. Should she scream? Should she run? “We’re okay, really.” She walked out into the street and around him. “Good luck finding your dog.”
She half-ran, half-walked home, breathless when she walked in the front door and chastising herself for not locking up before she left. Still holding Jake, she searched the house for any signs of an intruder. When she realized they were safe, she looked out the front window.
The man stood on the street corner, watching the house.
Still holding Jake in her arms, she set him down on the sofa. His eyes were glazed, his body limp. Hysteria bubbled in her chest. “Jake!”
He looked up at her and blinked.
“Jake.” Her voice broke and she gave into her tears. “Talk to me, baby.”
“Is the bad man gone?”
She sucked in a breath. “Bad man?”
His eyes widened. “He was a bad man.”
Determined to stop this nonsense, she clenched her jaw. “No, he was just a man looking for his dog.”
Jake shook his head. “No. He was looking for me.”
Emma choked on sobs. “No, Jake! Stop this right now! He’s not a bad man. Mrs. Pemberton wasn’t bad. You didn’t really know those children were going to get hurt. This isn’t real. None of this is real.”
Tears filled his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”
She ran to the window again. The man stood in the same spot. What if Jake was right? What if the man really wanted Jake? There was no doubt the man looked suspicious and she couldn’t take a chance. She picked up the phone and dialed 911.
An hour later, Emma was more frustrated than before she called. An officer took her report and said he’d look into it, but she knew he considered her to be a hysterical mother, no matter how much she tried to insist she wasn’t prone to overreaction. He told her that they’d send a patrol car through the neighborhood, but she didn’t expect anything to come of it.
Distraught, Jake cried when she tucked him into bed and insisted she stay with him. Part of her worried that if she reacted to his fear, she’d be encouraging it. But her mother’s heart won out and she carried him into her room, snuggling with him while he watched children’s television.
Emma stroked his head, her fingers playing with his soft curls until he fell asleep. She flipped off the TV and watched him, fear churning in her gut.
What if this wasn’t all Jake’s imagination? If people were really after her son, she had to make the police believe her.
And if she let herself consider that bad people might want her son, she had to consider why they wanted him. Could she accept the fact that Jake really saw bad things in his head? What if Mrs. Pemberton and the man on the street corner had somehow found out and had come to take her son? Who would protect him from them?
The next day Emma bought a hand gun. The clerk pulled out a revolver he thought would be a good fit and she held it in her hands, sure she’d lost her mind. Buying a gun seemed paranoid and irresponsible. She had a toddler in the house, for heaven’s sake. She’d never even touched a gun in her life, yet here she was buying one. While her two-year-old watched.
How messed up was that?
But she left the store with the gun, after she passed the background check, along with bullets and a case to lock it up in. She’d even signed up to take classes to learn how to use it, although she had no idea who would watch Jake when she went.
After lunch, Emma laid Jake down for a nap and contemplated how to spend the rest of the afternoon. At the moment, she needed to figure out what to do about her job. Jake needed her. Once he fell asleep, she sat down at the computer and tweaked her resume. On Monday, she would search for a new job.
The doorbell rang and her heart jumped into her throat. Closing her eyes, she told herself to calm down. She may have bought a gun earlier, but she didn’t have to give in to total paranoia. She opened her eyes and jumped with a shriek.
Jake stood three feet in front of her, pale and wide-eyed. “They’re here.”
Chapter Four
Her heart raced. “Who’s here?” she wheezed out.
“The bad men,” he whispered.
Her gun was in her bedroom, but it was broad daylight. She shook her head. She was losing it. “Jake, sweetie, go back to bed.”
He stood in place as if frozen. At the moment, his demeanor worried her more than who might be at the door.
“Jake?”
He continued to stare, his eyes glazed.
The doorbell rang again, followed by pounding. “Ms. Thompson,” a male voice called out. “This is Child Protective Services. We know you’re in there. We need you to answer the door.”
“Jake!” She shook his arms gently, scared that he was still unresponsive. In elementary school, Emma had a friend who had grand mal seizures, and she looked a lot like this. Maybe Jake was having a seizure. She wasn’t sure whether to be happy to have a possible explanation or be frightened. Right now she needed to worry about the people on her doorstep. If it really was the CPS, she didn’t want them seeing Jake like this.
Scooping him in her arms, she carried him to his room and laid him down, covering him with the blanket. She hated to leave him, but worried they’d break in the door if she didn’t answer.
Closing Jake’s door, she went to the front entrance and peeked through the sheers on the sidelight window. Two men stood on the front porch, both wearing suits. She opened the door, leaving the locked storm door shut.
0.05 Emergence Page 2