Emma's Secret: A Novel

said he’d lost it. But nowadays, it was “normal.”
    He pushed aside the dishes in the sink to make room for the kettle and filled it with water. If Dottie were here, she would have smacked his hand for leaving dirty dishes lying around. But then, if Dottie were here, there would be no dirty dishes.
    As he waited for the kettle to boil, Jack tackled the dishes. Afterward, he made sure to wring the cloth dry, a lesson Dottie had taught him after finding too many smelly dishcloths in her sink. He cut a slice of store-bought apple pie, topping it with a piece of cheese and knew, even before he took a bite, that it wouldn’t taste anything close to what Dottie used to make.
    He missed her more than he thought possible. This house was never meant to be so empty, so void of laughter, of childish giggles, or even of companionable silence. He often thought that he would die with Dottie, together in their bed, when they were both much older. But not yet. Not now. He had never envisioned what life would be like alone.
    God sure had a way of playing jokes on him. He’d promised Dottie the day he returned from the war that he’d never leave her alone again.
    He guessed he had kept his promise.

CHAPTER FOUR
    M egan shut off the vacuum. She popped her head up and scanned the family room. When she’d started cleaning, Emma was sitting in the big corner chair playing with her dolls. Now only Megan was in the room. She listened for Daisy’s bark or the other girls playing, but heard nothing.
    “Girls?” Her voice slightly squeaked. When there was no answer, she dropped the vacuum handle.
    She checked to make sure the front door was locked and the alarm still set; then she ran into the kitchen and looked out the patio doors. Hannah and Alexis sat on the deck, their legs stretched out, soaking in the sun.
    Megan scanned the yard. Where was Emma? Why couldn’t she see her? Megan wrenched open the sliding doors.
    “What’s up?” Alexis sat up and raised her sunglasses.
    “Where’s your sister?”
    “Right here.” Alexis nudged Hannah’s shoulder.
    Hannah frowned. “Not me, you moron. Emma.” She turned back. “I thought she was with you?” Hannah pushed herself up from her elbows, a panicked look on her face.
    “She was, until I started vacuuming.” Megan’s heart raced, yet she struggled to keep her voice calm.
    “She might be up in her room with the dog,” Alexis volunteered before lying back down. “And don’t call me a moron.”
    Hannah stood up, but not before giving her sister a disgusted look. “I’ll take a look.”
    Megan shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I’ve got it. Sit back and don’t fight. I’ll make you guys some lemonade in a few minutes.” She closed the sliding door and pivoted on her heel.
    “Emma?” she called out, unable to keep the frantic tone out of her voice. Where was she?
    Megan ran to the stairs and flew up several steps when a rhythmic thumping against the carpet stopped her.
    Emma must be in her room with Daisy.
    She climbed the remaining stairs quietly and heard her daughter hum a familiar song. It worried her that Emma’s first place to run to was her room, alone and away from her sisters. She should be blooming, like the roses in their backyard, instead of wilting now that she was back with her family.
    Megan clenched her fists as she thought about the damage they had inflicted upon her daughter. She should be a loud, vibrant child full of energy and sass, not a quiet child who rarely spoke and found solace with her dog instead of her family.
    Emma’s door was slightly ajar, and she sat on the floor, her back against her bed and her feet propped up against the far wall. Daisy’s tail was in view, thumping wildly on the floor. She couldn’t completely see what they were doing, but Megan had a feeling Daisy’s head lay on Emma’s lap while she stroked her fur.
    Nothing in Emma’s room was out of place. Her bed was made, her stuffed bears lined up in a row against her pillows, the floor clear of any toys, and the lid of her laundry basket down. Peter had put together a little bookcase where she kept her toys, baskets, and books. Even those were organized.
    Emma was the only neat freak in the house—a trait she must have picked up from living with those other people. Her sisters’ rooms were a mess, and it was all Megan could do to get them to keep the floor clean. It wasn’t normal for a five-year-old to be so tidy.
    “I miss Papa, Daisy. Don’t you? I