White Space Season 2

questions, but didn’t want to ask Emma. She had to ask Blake instead. He was the one with the answers. Sarah’s job was to be a mother; act normal and harbor Emma’s illusions that things were OK for as long as she could.
    “The important thing,” Sarah said, closing her eyes and hugging her daughter, slowly rocking her back and forth again, “is that we’re together now, and that everything will be OK.”
    She opened her eyes to see Blake still watching. Then, as if finally realizing he was eavesdropping on their moment, he turned and walked down a path between a cluster of bushes, and out of sight.
    Sarah parted from her daughter, told Emma to sit on the bench beside her, then asked, “How did you get here?”
    “I don’t remember. I was staying with Houser — that’s Daddy’s friend — while Daddy and Aunt Cassidy were having a date night. Then I woke up in a white room, like a hospital, and Grandpa was there. He said someone wanted to see me and then he brought me in here to see you.”
    “Date night? Jon and Cassidy are dating?” Sarah asked, trying not to laugh, or appear as if the news upset her — which she was surprised to find, it did, and quite a lot.
    So the dreams are true.
    She’d been having dreams that she was with Jon, and that they were in love. But at times, it felt like she was her sister, rather than herself. The dreams were odd, and vivid. They felt too real, like dreams rarely did, with memories following her in the morning and thickening through the day.
    “Yeah,” Emma said, only just realizing the news might hurt her mom. “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s OK,” Sarah said, brushing her fingers through Emma’s soft hair. “I haven’t seen your daddy in a while.”
    “Why not?” Emma asked, either forgetting or ignoring that Sarah said they would discuss it later. “And why didn’t you tell him he had a daughter?”
    Emma’s hurt was still fresh, and clear on her face. She looked as if she had been waiting forever to ask.
    “Your daddy moved to California before you were born, Honey. There were a lot of things happening for him there, and I didn’t want to mess it up by telling him how much his life had suddenly changed. I didn’t want to ruin things for him.”
    Emma stared at her mom with tear-misted eyes. “I would have ruined things for him?”
    “No, no, Honey,” Sarah said, trying to find words without stingers. “Jon and I were different people. The last thing in the world I wanted for me, or for you, was Hollywood and all the stuff that comes with it. It’s hard raising a child in this world with a normal life. Once you hit Hollywood, it’s … ”
    Sarah trailed off. She couldn’t think of the right arrangement of words; an assembly that would stay close to the truth, but without mentioning that Jon was an alcoholic, womanizing actor who had slept with maybe half of Hollywood’s starlets, and would clearly be a horrible father. Or that she hadn’t wanted to raise a child with that Jon. Whomever Emma had spent time with wasn’t quite the Jon she knew.
    Emma waited for more, her eyes still welling with tears, but she didn’t break down, stronger than Sarah thought.
    “I don’t know if I can ever make sense of things in a way that you’ll understand. I was young. We both were, and I didn’t know what to do. I did what I thought was right, for you, and us. But,” she admitted through a swallow, “that doesn’t mean I would do it the same way again.”
    Emma stared at her mom, and for a moment, Sarah thought she might explode in anger.
    “How dare you make my decisions!”
    “How can you keep me from knowing my father?”
    “Why would you lie to me?”
    But Emma said nothing of the sort. Instead, she said, “It’s OK, Mommy, I think I understand. You did your best.”
    Sarah held her tears and hugged Emma again. “You’re such a sweetheart — I’m so, so sorry.”
    “It’s OK, Mommy, I promise.” Emma pulled away from her mom, smiling as she looked around at the garden. “This place is so pretty. Where are we?”
    “Where did Mr. Conway tell you we are?” Sarah asked, assuming Emma had already asked him.
    “He said that we’re in a special place, and that he would tell me more later, after I saw the person who wanted to see me. That was you, Mommy!” Emma pushed her pointer finger into her mom’s tickle spot, the one Emma used most, right under her right ribcage. “So where are we, Mom? And when can we go home?”
    “I