Surviving Emma

by Jen Atkinson

  She scanned her gaze slowly from my chest to my face. “Are you the biggest idiot on the planet?”

  “Excuse me?” Why was this lady always pissed off? I cleaned up Virgie’s floor.

  “A dog?” she asked, her tone dead-pan.

  “What’s wrong with a dog? You saw her face. She’s thrilled.”

  Emma pressed her lips together. She stepped over to the doorway and peeked out into the living room. “She is,” she said, her tone turning melancholy. But only for a moment, then her thoughts were back in the kitchen, back with me, and she remained ticked as ever. “How’s she gonna feel when he’s dead because I can’t afford to feed the ugly thing?”

  “I have dog food in my car. I’ll buy the food.”

  She opened and closed one cupboard and then another, searching through each. “Great. Will you come stand out in the cold when it needs to crap, too? Or is building a fence part of Dakota’s gift? Are you gonna come clean up after it? Or walk it?” She finally opened one drawer and paused after rifling through it. She pulled out half a package of birthday candles and turned back to me. “Will you be the one to convince Taggart that it should stay?”

  “I can—well, most of those things.” I hadn’t really thought about Taggart, or the fence thing. I hadn’t meant for this gift to be a major inconvenience, just a special surprise for Dakota. She complained with her usual irritation and sass, but this time she had a few points.

  She held the candles in her hands, her face fallen. She looked almost lost and I thought about her crying in that jail cell—not in a rage to mangle her father, but because she never ever wanted to see Dakota hurt. Had anyone ever loved her like that? Her father certainly didn’t. A crazy need to comfort her surged through me.

  “I’ll stay until Taggart gets home. I’ll talk to him.” I put a hand on her shoulder. She felt so small and fragile beneath my touch.

  She stared up at me for two seconds, her eyes glassy with tears and again I just wanted to comfort her—to make her feel better. I inched closer to her, closing some of the space between us.

  “Carter,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. But then, her eyes narrowed, piercing me to the core and her lips rolled in a grimace. “What are you doing?” With the strength of a pro wrestler, she shoved me away until I stumbled back into the wall.

  “Geez, Emma,” I said in a forced whisper. “I was just trying to offer some support.”

  “By putting your lips on mine?”

  “I didn’t—I wasn’t—”

  “I’m not stupid, Carter. You were coming in. I saw you.”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t rationalize with crazy. I wouldn’t have kissed her—her of all people.

  She turned, placing candles in the cake, her jeans hugging her hips and waist like someone had painted them on.

  Without a word, I left her in the kitchen. She seemed to be done yelling at me.

  Dakota had unhooked the dog’s leash. She lay on her side on the floor, the dog on his back right next to her. Her fingers scratched his belly, keeping him content. “Oh, hey Carter. You wanna lay down and look at the ceiling with us?”

  “The ceiling?”

  “Yeah, it looks like clouds.”

  There wasn’t much space in the small living room, but I sat down next to her and stretched out my legs. I lay with my head next to hers. “You can call me Aiden, you know?”

  She swiveled her neck to look at me, her brows cinched. “Why?”

  “Well, that’s my name, Kotes.”

  “It’s not Carter?”

  “It’s Aiden Carter.”

  “Oh.” She giggled. “I didn’t know that.”

  I figured. She probably thought my legal name was Deputy Carter Idiot.

  “Should Keith have a last name?”

  “Keith?”

  “Yeah,” she said, her cheeks swelling. “I named the dog Keith Sunday.”

  A loud laugh came from the other side of the room. Emma. She stood there with the cake in her hands and a grin, I’d never imagined her able to conjure, spread across her face. “That’s perfect, Dakota. Just perfect!”

  Chapter 16

  Emma

  We were going to have Pepsi-Cola cake leftovers for days. Taggart didn’t like sweets. Virgie claimed to be watching her figure. And I hadn’t wanted to offer any to that idiot who stayed entirely too late last night. Because of him, I didn’t even get to give Dakota my gift. She hadn’t asked about it. She was too excited over Keith.

  Naming the dog after her nitwit dad was a sweet gesture on Dakota’s part, my darling girl. But for me, it meant I got to call the ugliest, most slobbery mutt I’d ever witnessed after my ex—and I had to admit, it made me a little giddy each time I said it. He liked Dakota, too. He seemed to know he belonged to her. Carter promised he’d bring food by every month and come by every Friday to pick up dog crap from the yard. I would have protested—I don’t need to see him that much, but I honestly can’t afford to feed the thing. Besides, whatever he said to Taggart worked. He’d given Keith several glares before he’d gone back to bed this morning, but he hadn’t complained to Dakota.

  “But what will he do all day?’ Dakota rubbed the back of Keith’s neck. “He’s going to be so lonely.”

  “He’ll be fine, honey.” I shoved her school folder into her overstuffed backpack and zipped it closed. “I’ll be here until ten—I’ll play with him. And then Grandpa will be here while I’m at work. He’ll only have an hour or two alone.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “What if Taggart lets him outside by himself or…” her face turned pale, “decides he wants to get rid of him.” Her little finger ran across her neck, her gaze sliding to Keith as if she didn’t want to say the word “kill” or in front of him.

  “How about when I go, I put him in your room with some food and water?” She wasn’t crazy for worrying over Taggart. I wouldn’t put it past him to take the dog outside and shoot him simply because he’d slobbered on his foot. And Keith would definitely slobber on Taggart’s foot.

  “Locked up?” she gasped. She shook her head. “How about you run him by the station? Carter will take care of him and then bring him back to Virgie’s at four.”

  “Sweetheart, he’ll be working and Virgie will not allow that dog back into her house after last time.”

  “Keith was just scared! He’d never do that for real. He met a bunch of new people and it frightened him.” She hugged him around the neck and I grimaced at the slobber dripping down her arms.

  “You don’t have to convince me. Talk to Virgie.”

  She stood and reached for the door knob.

  “Eh—eh! Not now.” I held up her backpack. “School, remember?”

  For the first time in Dakota’s life, tears watered her eyes at the thought of going to school. “But Mama—”

  “I’ll take care of him, I promise. Taggart won’t lay a finger on him.”

  Emma

  Taggart sneered at Keith. Anytime the poor thing tried to go near him, Taggart would clutch the remote like a samurai knife and I’d quickly call him back over to me. For being an older dog, he’d picked up on his new name quick enough.

  “How long is that thing gonna be here?”

  “A while, Dad. The deputy gave him to Dakota for her birthday.”

  “And you allowed this? You forgot you was the mother, huh?”

  I wrapped a finger around Keith’s collar to keep him next to me. “He didn’t ask.”

  “You need to grow a pair and get rid of it.”

  I did need to grow a pair—as Taggart so crudely put it. “He makes Dakota happy. I’ve decided he can stay.”

  “You decided? This is my house.” He argued, but he never said that Keith had to go. Whatever Carter had said worked.

  Nine-thirty… I did feel nervous leaving the darn mutt alone with Taggart. Dakota wouldn’t like it, but it would be the safest route for him. “Come on, boy.” I patted my leg and Keith skipped after me. I brought his food and water into
Dakota’s room and lay a pillow onto the floor. “There. Cozy as can be. You be good.”

  He sat on his back legs, staring up at me. His tongue was too long, for his medium build, and hung halfway to the floor. I shut the door as if a baby napped in her room and tip-toed away. I picked up my purse and sunglasses without a word to Taggart about where I’d put Keith. Out of sight, out of mind. And then…

  “Aawooo!!”

  Taggart’s feet knocked into his TV tray, almost toppling it over. “What in—”

  I hurried for the hall, missing the sling of curses Taggart ranted off. Another loud, heartbroken howl wailed from Dakota’s room. I slung open the door and immediately he stopped. He panted, drool dangling. “You little turd.” Keith jogged over and sat at my feet. “Don’t you understand? Taggart will kill you.”

  He wagged his tail.

  “Dead.”

  He’s beady black eyes stared up at me.

  “Murdered.”

  Ten minutes later, I held a plate of cake in one hand and Keith’s leash in the other. “Let’s go,” I told him, and the spoiled mutt had the audacity to trot out of the house while Taggart sneered.

  I pulled up to the station with only a few minutes to get to work. I didn’t have a client coming in until eleven, but I’d still hear about my tardiness from Jodi. Thankfully, Carter’s car sat out front. I thought he might be out patrolling.

  I balanced the cake on my palm, the leash looped through my fingers, as I opened the door. “Hey, Andy.”

  He blinked at the dog trotting through his office.

  “I come bearing gifts,” I said once I reached Carter’s desk. I set the plate of cake down and crossed my arms, the leash still tucked into my hand.

  Carter looked from me to the dog and back again. “Uh, thank you?” He pointed at Keith. “You brought the dog?”

  “Yep. He’s gift number two. Your companion for the day.” I tossed the leash toward him and started for the door.

  “Whoa. Whoa. Hold up.” Carter jogged up beside me, Keith beside him. “I can’t take the dog—I’m working.”

  “Sure you can, he’ll be your K-9.”

  “No, Emma, really, I—”

  “No, really, if you don’t, Taggart will kill it.”

  “But—”

  “You said you’d do anything to help with the dog, remember?” I set a hand on one hip. I wasn’t afraid of the daggers his eyes shot at me. “You wanted Dakota to have it. So, I’m guessing you’d rather Taggart not shoot the thing, right?”

  His jaw clenched.

  “Kotes assured me you’d take him. And that you’d convince Virgie to leave him at her place at four o’clock. That’s when Dakota gets there. Good luck with that one,” I said as Keith’s drool pile grew to the size of a grapefruit.

  A muffled chortling drifted over from Andy’s desk, his belly shook with giggles, confectioners’ sugar on his chin.

  I flittered a hand high in the air. It may have been terrible, but it did please me to shock him so. “Bye.”

  Emma

  I hadn’t heard from Carter once. I kept expecting to see Keith run into the Do or Dye, but nothing, not even an irritated text message.

  I pulled up to the house, but only Deputy Idiot’s car sat out front. He wasn’t inside the car with Keith, so Virgie must have let him in. What on this green earth did he have to offer her?

  I rapped on Virgie’s door, carrying our frozen pizza under my arm and Virgie’s Pepsi in my hand. I thought maybe I’d hear Keith bark—but then I’d never heard him bark before. He didn’t really make sounds, except for snoring and apparently lonely or startled howling, he just leaked.

  Virgie opened up, and her face colored a guilty pink upon seeing me.

  I could only imagine the smut she had Dakota translating. “Hey, Virg. Is Kotes ready?” I handed her the six-pack.

  Virgie skirted my direct eye-contact. “Now, Emma. I love that stink. And I promised you I’d never let Taggart take her again—”

  Blood drained from my face—all in a one second rush.

  “And I would never!” She held up a hand. “But I couldn’t allow that thing back into my house. Not even for the twelve-pack Deputy Carter offered me. So, the dog and Carter are at your house.”

  Oh. My house.

  My shoulder’s relaxed. I could get rid of Carter easy enough. He probably could have dropped Keith off once he knew for certain Taggart had left.

  “But…”

  I shivered, impatient, and ready to put my feet up. “But what, Virg? It’s two degrees out here.”

  “But Kotes wouldn’t let them go without her. I asked her to stay, but she went, anyhow.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know how I felt about that. I didn’t worry over Carter, but it felt strange to have Dakota with someone without my permission, too. “I’ll handle it. Oh, can I get Dakota’s gifts?”

  “She took them, all but this one.” She picked up my wrapped package on the ground and handed it over. “Are we okay?”

  I took the box, set the frozen pizza on top, and nodded. If Dakota had insisted on running away with the circus, I couldn’t expect Virgie to actually leave her house and go after her—I knew that going into this.

  Before I opened the door, old rock music blared from within the house. I’d ask the heavens to help me—but really they should look after Carter. I could handle myself. I ground my teeth once and stepped through the front of the cabin.

  The Beatles sang about girls and dancing, and the most off tone singing joined them from my kitchen, ruining the entire song. I turned down the volume knob on the old stereo in our living room and braved my way into the kitchen.

  Kotes sat at the table, her science kit in front of her, her shoulders still swaying to the music. Her test tubes and beakers were set up in their little plastic stands, a white powder in the test tubes, and different colored liquids in each of the three beakers. Keith sat and drooled at her feet. Carter stood at the stove, steam rising from a pot. My oven was already on, and for the first time I noticed the smell that engulfed the entire house. Food. Like real food.

  The next song started in, and when it didn’t boom, that’s when they both looked up and noticed me.

  “Hi, Mama.” Dakota said, but she didn’t move from her spot. “Watch this!” She poured what looked to be orange juice from a beaker into one of the test tubes. “Nothing. Dang it.”

  “Try the next one,” Carter said and then he lifted his head in hello to me. No explanation of what he was doing in my house, in my kitchen, at my stove, with my child.

  Dakota picked up a clear liquid and poured it into the next test tube. Vinegar. The tube bubbled and overflowed onto the kitchen table and Dakota shrieked with laughter.

  Carter laughed too. And my insides crawled with discomfort. “So,” I said, louder than needed now that I’d turned down the music. “What’s going on here?”

  “Experiments!” Dakota hollered. She pointed at her science kit and the mess on the table. “And Carter’s making dinner. With lots of foods. He’s been chopping and boiling and doing all sorts of things.” She laughed as if cooking dinner compared to churning homemade butter.

  I felt my cheeks pinken and I used my embarrassment as fuel. “Has he?” My voice held the hard edge I needed and I stared pointedly at Carter. When he didn’t answer, I opened up my empty freezer—to find it full. Full of frozen vegetables and meats and prepackaged meals. “What’s this?” I didn’t need his charity—and I certainly didn’t want it.

  “Carter had a dinner party all planned,” Dakota said with leftover shock from whatever he’d told her. “He bought all the food. He planned everything—and then guess what?”

  My brows rose in question, not believing a word of the bogus story.

  “Nobody came. Everybody stood him up, Mama. He couldn’t eat all that food by himself. So, he brought some of it over to us.”

  “A dinner party?” I tilted my head to appraise him. “You were going to serve, chicken, ground beef,
peas, carrots, corn, broccoli, green beans, six different juices,” I moved the concentrated juice jars to see behind them, “a frozen lasagna and frozen mac n’ cheese at a dinner party, huh?”

  He nodded, an unconvincing frown on his face, and went back to stirring his pot.

  My lips twitched. I didn’t know how to shove it all back in his face without looking like the bad guy to Dakota. My freezer had never been so full. I set Dakota’s gift on the floor and rearranged a few things to fit the frozen pizza inside. No doubt Carter judged me. But he could do all the judging he wanted. He’d never understand my life. “What are you making?”

  “Chicken alfredo!” Kotes said from her seat. “He didn’t even buy a jar of sauce. He’s making it up. We’re experimenting!”

  I pinched my lips together, feeling wholly out of place in the house I’d lived every day of my life in. “I’m gonna change out of my work clothes.” I picked up Dakota’s birthday gift and set it on the table. “You, ma’am, have one more birthday present to open.” I winked at her, then escaped to my room.

  Peeling off my scrub top, I threw on a tank top and sat on top of my unmade bed. I tossed off my shoes and kicked my legs like a toddler. I didn’t know what to do about Aiden Carter cooking in my kitchen. But I couldn’t yell at him—well, not in front of Dakota, anyway. She now thought the world of that idiot.

  I threw on a brown knitted cardigan that had lived in my closet longer than I had lived in this cabin and braved the house beyond my bedroom. I couldn’t decide if Carter’s dinner smelled good or rolled my stomach. It had been years since I’d eaten anything that required a recipe. We qualified for free school lunch, so Kotes got all of her veggies and homemade meals during the day—at least that’s what I told myself.

  “Forks go on the left side.”

  “Left side, got it.” Dakota held up a metal fork and shined it with the paper towel in her hand before setting it left of the plate she’d set on the table. There were two more plates set out and she shined a second fork.