CHAPTER 43
Emma
“Welcome to our family,” were the first words he ever said to me. I was sixteen years old and had already shuffled through a half dozen foster families and a state home.
The foster dad smiled at me. A big, welcoming, don’t-be-afraid smile. I don’t remember his name.
He had a name, of course, but I’ve worked very hard to block it out. He doesn’t deserve a name. A name makes him human. And he was a monster.
Once the juvenile adjudication stuff was over and my emancipation process began, I decided I was done with him forever. I made the choice to forget him.
Even now, all these years later, my mind can wander off in that direction if I don’t have my guard up. I can forget that I have no business digging around in my memory for the specifics of that man and his house. I always manage to stop myself before I go too far.
I walk up to that door in my mind. I slam it shut, lock it, and throw away the key.
And if that doesn’t do the trick, I kick it up to the next level.
I picture in my head that the city garbage truck runs him over in the street. The workers scrape up the roadkill and throw it into the compactor, then drive it to the dump, where it belongs.
It’s a lot. But it works.
And now here I am, staring into the carnival, thinking he’s here.
I’m in such a daze that I nearly drop my armful of stuffed pandas. I look out at the swirling lights and the running children and hear the carnival music coming from every direction.
It’s him. Right there. Standing in front of the Funhouse with two other men. They’re laughing. Having a good time.
I may vomit.
When I first arrived at that house, it seemed like it would probably be all right. Within a few days, I knew it wouldn’t even be safe. Or decent. Or anything less than a horror show.
I noticed that the kids were too quiet. The mother, when she could stand up, reminded me of a ghost. Zoned out and crying. Most nights, she got drunk. Many nights she passed out.
On my third night there, I ran away.
The smiling foster dad came to pick me up at the police station. He charmed the cops and the social workers and he took me back.
On my fifth night there, I ran away again. Yet again he charmed everyone and dragged me back, telling me that if I didn’t shape up I would live to regret it, if I lived at all.
I figured out what was happening in that house. I could see it in the eyes of the other girls, younger than me. But they wouldn’t talk about it.
On the sixth night, it was my turn.
But on the seventh night….
A shudder moves through me from the top of my head to my toes.
The set of those rounded shoulders. The shape of his bald head and the rolls of flesh where it meets his neck. The way his pants sag. But I can’t be certain because he’s turned away from me. I would have to look at him square in the face to be sure. I’d have to see the telltale scar.
And I don’t want to.
Then he’s gone.
Where did he go? Could I have imagined him?
It wouldn’t be the first time. At my last job at the truck stop, I swore I saw him pumping gas.
I was so grateful he didn’t come inside for coffee or something to eat.
I have no idea what I would have done, but I’m pretty sure it would have involved something sharp.
I find myself raising a shaky arm and pointing at the Funhouse, like I’m finally getting to pick him out of a police lineup. I never got to do that with him, since he was never charged.
“What’s wrong?” Finn brings his face near mine. “Emma? Are you okay? Who’re you pointing at?”
I drop my hand and scan the crowd again. Nothing.
“I think I’m seeing things.” I try to get a different angle. I have to make sure he’s nowhere near me.
Finn’s body has gone rigid. The way he’s standing makes him appear to take up more space, like he’s ready for a fight. This isn’t his fight. There is no fight.
It all happened a long time ago. It was my fight, and I took care of it.
“What’s happening?” Jasmine runs up to us, out of breath, then turns to wave goodbye to Declan. “Are we going on the Ferris wheel?”
Finn stares at me, his eyes nothing but questions. I smile at him and touch his forearm.
“Everything’s good,” I tell him. “I’m fine. Really.”
Am I?
A monstrous apparition just dragged me right out of the pleasure of this moment with Finn, Jasmine, and the rest of a community that has welcomed me with open arms.
I can’t let that happen.
Lock the door. Dump him in the landfill.
I look down at Jasmine. “Let’s go to the Ferris wheel!”
The three of us walk together, though Jasmine runs and skips ahead and doubles back a few times. I don’t want to give Finn any reason to worry about me. He’s been so attentive all day, and so sweet.
If I even looked at something for two seconds, he’d insist on finding a way to give it to me. He made sure I was happy at every turn and went out of his way to introduce me to everyone he saw. He sounded proud when he did it, too.
And it all started when he took my hand and walked me from the car to the ticket booth.
I clench my hand and open it again, remembering the feeling of his fingers grasping mine. I don’t think I breathed once during that walk. I pretended that it was no big deal, that this sort of thing happened all the time.
But inside, I was doing back handsprings. The instant his skin touched mine, I came alive. I saw it all unfolding… Finn and I loved one another. His daughter was my daughter. His home was my home. And we were a lovely little family.
The forever kind of family.
And now a sticky, dark film clings to everything. It feels like I don’t have a right to think about any of those things or have any of those hopes, not even in fantasy form. The sparkle of this day has been tarnished, and my sense of belonging has given way to a sinking feeling of doom.
Finn puts his hand on my shoulder. I wake from my stupor to see his concerned expression, his eyes locked on mine. We’ve reached the Ferris wheel. Jasmine’s jumping up and down.
“I can’t wait to see everything from high above,” I tell him, plastering a smile on my face.
But he’s still got his hand tight on my shoulder. Like he’s protecting me. From something he can’t see.
I will not tell him about the monster that may, or may not, have been here. If I do, that will be the only way he will ever see me, from that moment on.
Ruined. A criminal.
I will not let that happen.
Finn can never know about that part of my past. I’m sure Phyllis has already updated him about my orphan status and how I dropped out of school. That’s plenty pathetic, right there. If Finn hears anything more than that, he won’t let me continue to work for him. And I wouldn’t blame him.
My arms are full of stuffed pandas, but I manage to take Jasmine’s hand. “Ready to fly?”
Three hours later, we walk through the front door at home. Jasmine is fast asleep in Finn’s arms. The toys and balloons and everything else that Finn bought for Jasmine and me are still in the car, and Finn says to leave them there until morning.
I’m worn out. It’s been a great day, so great that I’ve almost been able to erase the memory of seeing—or thinking I saw—the monster from my past. But now I’m exhausted and I feel gross.
I’m dusty and dirty. There’s cotton candy stuck in my hair and a remnant of Jasmine’s Snickers bar on my forearm.
My stomach is full of fried foods, most of which should not be allowed anywhere near a deep fryer.
I’m desperate for some quality time in my luxury shower.
I walk upstairs with Finn and pull back Jasmine’s bedcovers so that he can lay her down. We each remove one shoe and one sock and Finn tucks her in.
We straighten, and Finn takes a deep breath. He has cotton candy in his hair too, I realize.
“What a day,” he whispers. “I might be getting old.”
“You’re not old.” The light and shadows of the room morph his beautiful face into that of an old-time movie star, a magnificent and suave hero here to save the day. All he’s missing is a double-breasted suit. “I’m tired too. I’ll be lucky if I can make it into the shower and then my bed.”
His eyes darken as he looks down at me. “I apologize for wearing you out. I shouldn’t ask you to work such long days.”
“Was I on the clock?”
A soft grin curls his lips.
“Will you take the cost of the pandas out of my next paycheck?”
He doesn’t answer.
“It was not work for me. I thought of it as a lovely day with a beautiful family, and I’ll treasure today for the rest of my life.”
I exhale loudly, slightly shocked that I just said all that. I really am tired. “Good night, Finn.”
I touch his arm, turn down the hall, and head for my room. Once inside, I close the door and lean against it, catching my breath.
I hear a soft sound just outside my door, and I stop breathing altogether to listen. The hush of footsteps. Uneven breaths.
What’s the right thing to do? If he knocks, do I answer?
Heat spreads through my body, and it feels as if my insides might melt. A place deep and low in my belly tightens. I’m wet. Finn makes me so wet.
And then what? I let him push me away again?
I wait for the knock. If he knocks, I’ll let him in, because I just don’t care anymore. If I don’t get him in bed soon I’m going to explode.