Emma's Secret: A Novel

two, but there was something about the smell. Dottie used to say it offered promises of what was to come; he personally believed it offered the promise of the unknown.
    Being out here kept him busy and kept his mind off what he’d found earlier.
    Jack set the piece of quarter-inch-thick plywood he’d just cut on the side table and picked up another piece. Only three more to cut. He knew it was early, but before Emmie had been returned to her parents, he’d been planning to build her a Victorian dollhouse for Christmas. Now that his girl was back in his life, he wanted her to have it.
    He took a quick look at the drawings he’d made to confirm that the markings on the wood were correct, and then powered up his table saw and gently pushed the wood along until it was cut in half.
    He’d spent a long time on this drawing. There were a few designs in one of his books Dottie had bought him a few years ago that he liked, but instead of choosing just one, he decided to incorporate what he liked from several. The only problem was that the house looked like a mishmash now.
    He grabbed the design from the corkboard across from him and gazed at it. Maybe if he added some lattice around the roof, a wraparound porch, and extra doors…he grabbed the pencil behind his ear and was sketching the layout of the porch when a car horn interrupted him.
    Jack stepped out of his woodshed and hesitated before waving to Doug. Not sure whether he’d kept the surprise off his face, he stepped back into his shed and kicked open the old fridge in the corner. By the time Doug walked in, Jack had two cans of root beer opened and had already chugged half his can. It felt good to taste something other than sawdust in his mouth.
    “Thanks.” Doug took the offered can and sipped. There was a gleam in his eye as he looked around.
    Jack puffed out his chest before taking another long drink. He was proud of his shed. He’d added on to it last year, enlarging it so that he had more room to store his projects and keep them out of Dottie’s way. Off to the side was a table he’d lowered for Emmie. On days when he wasn’t cutting wood, she’d sometimes sit out here with him and color while he tinkered. He missed those days.
    “It’s been a long time,” Jack muttered. Ever since Dottie banned Doug from her life, he’d never stopped by. Not until now.
    “Need some help?” Doug’s gaze shifted to the corner where Jack’s half-finished projects collected dust. Most needed to be stained or painted.
    “I’ll get to them eventually.” Jack shrugged before emptying his can and throwing it in the recycle box beneath his table. A metallic sound filled the silence.
    Doug’s lips tightened, but Jack was glad he didn’t say anything. Having Doug here was uncomfortable, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. The coffee shop, the races—those were neutral grounds. But here, where Doug’s presence hadn’t been allowed since Jack hadcome home from the war…well, Dottie was probably glaring at them right now, angry beyond words that Doug would have the audacity to go behind her back.
    “Think Dottie’s turning in her grave?” Doug’s voice was gruff.
    “Why not go find out for yourself. She’s out front, beneath the new sapling.” Jack nodded toward the door and waited to see whether Doug would leave.
    “Thought for sure you would have put her in the back with her brother.” The surprise in Doug’s voice caught Jack off guard. A tremor worked its way through his body, but Jack fisted his hands and ignored it.
    “Sometimes Dottie didn’t know what’s good for her. She was too focused on the past. I can’t go back there anymore,” he mumbled.
    “So don’t.” Jack jumped at Doug’s brief touch on his shoulder.
    Jack cleared his throat. “Why’d you come anyway?”
    Doug’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a sigh and pulled out a stool from beneath the table.
    “I’m tired, old, and lonely as hell. And I know you are too. You heard Kenny; he knows he’s dying. We know he’s dying. And you…” Doug gave him a pointed look. “Something’s up with you, but you’re too pigheaded to ask for help.”
    Jack buried his hands in his coverall pockets. He had half a mind to stop his old buddy from going any further, and yet he didn’t.
    “You’ve got this big old house that’s falling apart around your ears, and you’re too stubborn to sell it, but you can’t fix it up either. Let us move out here with you. Kenny has a day