| |
Emma
Emma wasn’t sure of the best way to get her father’s mistress’s phone number. She couldn’t believe God had tasked her with such a mission. Her first thought was to check her father’s cell phone, but if he’d been sneaking around, would he keep her phone number in his phone? Or would it be listed under some code name? Thinking about this made her sick to her stomach. Then she considered the church directory. That would likely have some phone number for Alexis DeGrave, but would it be her cell? Or her home phone? Her husband never went to church, so maybe it would be her cell. But Emma wasn’t willing to bet on it, and she didn’t really want to speak to that man again. Maybe she should just dial whatever number she found and then if a man answered, hang up.
Neither of these plans were great, but they both required her leaving Mrs. Patterson’s house. When she shared this realization, Mrs. Patterson looked sad.
“I’ll be right back.”
She nodded, but she still looked sad.
Emma had another thought. “Do you need anything? While I’m out?”
“Need anything?” she repeated. “What would I need?”
Emma looked around the house and shrugged. “I don’t know, but if you don’t go out, I thought maybe there might be something you wanted that you can’t get.”
Her back straightened, and she lifted her chin. “I have everything I need, thank you.”
Emma hesitated. “How do you get what you need? How do you get food?”
She smiled. “Child, you need to see my garden.”
Emma was surprised. Garden? It was true that a tall fence surrounded Mrs. Patterson’s entire backyard, but it had never occurred to Emma that she was back there gardening. So she did go outside. It was a relief to hear this. She left her house. She just didn’t leave her property.
“What about other things? Meat? Toilet paper? Toothpaste?”
She chuckled and started shooing her toward the door. “Anything I can’t grow myself, I have shipped.”
They’d reached the front door. Emma couldn’t remember a world without the internet, but she knew there had been one. “What about before?”
She stopped walking and furrowed her brow. “Before what?”
“Before you could have stuff delivered?”
Her voice softened. “I haven’t always been like this. I used to be young and out and about, just like you.” She opened the door.
Emma wanted to ask her what had changed. Why had she changed? But she also needed to get to Jason. “I’ll be back,” she said again.
Mrs. Patterson nodded again.
“And then I’d love to see your garden.”
Mrs. Patterson smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
As Emma crossed Mrs. Patterson’s front lawn and then her own, her curiosity about her mysterious neighbor faded as a feeling of dread grew. She so didn’t want to talk to this woman, but Mrs. Patterson was right. If Jason was already being bailed out, she could stop freaking out about it.
Her mother was lying on the couch but sat up abruptly when she came in. “You came back?”
Why was everyone so surprised by her appearances?
“Not for long,” she said, wanting to hurt her mother.
It worked. Her face fell, and Emma felt ill with guilt. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m not mad at you, and I don’t want to hurt your feelings. Will you please just come with me?”
She hesitated, seeming to consider it. This encouraged Emma greatly.
“Emma, can we have an adult conversation?” She patted the seat beside her.
“Not right now. I have to figure out how to bail Jason out of jail.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to bail him out? With what money?”
“Well, first I was going to call Alexis and ask her to do it.”
Her mother went pale. “I don’t want you talking to that woman!”
“I don’t want to talk to her either, Mom. I think I’m angrier with her than you are. But I need to help Jason. So do you want to help me bail him out? Because if not, I have to call Alexis.”
“I’m not going to help. Think of how that would look. And stop calling Mrs. DeGrave by her first name. You need to call adults by their proper names. You know that.”
Emma couldn’t believe that her mother was worried about such things under the circumstances. And she could think of several adults who didn’t deserve the respect of being called by their proper names. “I don’t think Alexis is much of a wife to Mr. DeGrave.”
Her mother sighed. She looked exhausted. She patted the seat again. “It’s going to take forever to process Jason. Have a seat for just a minute.”
Emma was overcome then by a desire for her mother, and she went to her quickly. She sat and buried her head in her chest and let the tears come. “Mom,” she said, her voice muffled. “What a mess!”
Her mother squeezed her tightly and rubbed her back. “I know, honey. Don’t I know it.”
Emma leaned back and looked into her eyes. “Then let’s do something about it! Let’s pack a bag right now.”
“That’s the adult part of the conversation, Emma. You are young, and I’ve always tried to protect you from adult junk. I don’t want to weigh down your spirit or your heart with the things adults have to worry about, but I feel like I might need to do that in this case, because none of this is as simple as you think it is.”
“Mom, this is so simple.” She was surprised at how convincing—how adult-like—her voice sounded.
A tear escaped her mother’s eye, and she wiped it away. “Divorce is so messy, Emma. And child custody makes it even messier. Imagine a life where I only had you half the time. I can’t live like that.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” Emma screeched. “Mom! I’m thirteen! I can decide who I live with and I choose you! Are you crazy?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think you’ll have a choice.”
“That is not true! Mom, I will have a choice! I know lots of kids with divorced parents, and they all have a say in where they go. Maybe not when they were little, but they do now. Dad can’t make me stay with him, ever.” She grabbed her mother’s hands and squeezed, desperate to convince her. “Mom, I choose you. I always choose you.”
