Page 31 of I Know She Was There

But the experience had taught me something valuable: I had to cherish the one still in my life. Keep her protected at all costs. If that meant turning my back on someone I might have been able to help, so be it. I was a parent first. I had priorities to attend to.

CHAPTER14

WEDNESDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER 6

Isat in my parked Honda in the center of the driveway as Tim gathered up his tools and Emmy and loaded his car. I gnashed my teeth, recalling how he never took my baby carriage, car seat, or even diaper bag with him when he scooped up our daughter. He had no trouble denying me the little things I’d needed, like a few self-esteem-enhancing cosmetics (too expensive) or vitamins I’d read helped diminish depression (unproven and costly), but apparently hadn’t hesitated to purchase duplicates of the baby gear to avoid any lingering trace of me on them. I resented his attitude, but it was preferable to the idea of the mystery girlfriend snuggling my baby. I couldn’t even think about that.

I reread the text he’d sent me just a half hour earlier. He’d be on vacation for the next week, so he was depositing my living-expense money into my account early. I’d gladly give the cash back if he wouldn’t keep my precious girl for nine whole days. I didn’t know how I’d survive without her. We’d never been apart that long. I desperately hoped the girlfriend wouldn’t join them on the trip.

After Tim pulled away without so much as a wave in my direction, I got out of the Honda and walked back into the little ranch where we’d once—briefly—been happy. I felt the emptiness like a gut punch as I stepped into the living room. As if to ensure Emmy was really gone, I beelined to her room and stood in the doorway staring into her empty crib. My eyes stung and my breath caught in my suddenly dry throat.

I’d need meds to get through the next week. That much was clear. Not only the usual ones, but those special pills that helped me cope in a crisis. The Percocet in the bathroom medicine cabinet.

“Half a pill for you and a half for me,” I mumbled, recalling again how my mother shared everything that way, from vitamins to breath mints. I looked in the mirror over the sink. My hair appeared to have the same shade and twiggy disarray of a sparrow’s nest I’d once spied on our front porch. I’d marveled at the jumble of odds and ends comprising the nest: sticks, grass, laundry lint, even a cigarette butt. I pulled a downy catkin from my bangs and looked at the greasy dark roots on my scalp. When was the last time I’d showered? I couldn’t remember. Maybe Tim was right to deny me costly cosmetics. Would I even remember to use them?

I tossed and turned for hours that night, feeling a migraine coming on. I doubled up on the pills and returned to Emmy’s room, snatching the blanket from her crib. Nestling it against my face as I climbed back into bed, I inhaled deeply and finally drifted into an uneasy sleep with the smell of my child surrounding me.

CHAPTER15

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 7

An alarming clanging startled me awake. Bleary-eyed and nauseated, I squinted at my bedside clock, surprised to see it was past ten in the morning. I sat up, looking around, trying to identify the source of the agitating noise. My cell phone, on the dresser. I didn’t even recall leaving it there. I lunged for the device, imagining Tim on the other end telling me all sorts of horrors that had beset our daughter: sudden fever, an accident...

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Case?”

I hesitated, unable to speak.Is it the hospital calling? Telling me Emmy is in the ER?My heart pounded, making it hard to breathe.

“Mrs. Case?”

“Yeees,” I wheezed. It was hard to talk around the heartbeat pulsing in my throat.

“This is June from Dr. Ellison’s office. You’re past due for the six-month checkup.”

I closed my eyes; my racing heart slowed even as acid reflux torched my esophagus, making my throat sting and my eyes water. “I’m sorry,” I said, exhaling.

“The doctor wanted me to reach out and discuss why you’ve missed your last few visits. He’s concerned.”

“Tell him not to be, June. We’re fine. Just very busy. Business has stepped up and I have a lot to juggle.” My face reddened with the lie. Even before Tim left, I’d had a hard time meeting my work deadlines. MediSource, the medical billing company that had employed me for more than five years, temporarily suspended my assignments while I battled postnatal depression.

“Would you like to schedule a new appointment?” June asked in a monotone voice. “We now work on Saturdays.” She didn’t sound happy about that.

“Not just yet. We’re fine. Healthy. No need for a checkup.”

“The doctor thinks?—”

“Thanks so much.” I hung up on her, taking a deep breath to settle my surging stomach. Even the suggestion of Emmy in danger made my insides heave. And the meds I was swallowing like sugary treats didn’t help.

Fumbling through the bathroom cabinet, I grabbed a bottle of Mylanta and drank from it like a baby hungrily devouring the contents of a nursing bottle. I sat on the closed lid of the toilet, breathing hard as I waited for the liquid to coat my windpipe and stomach. What I needed was a distraction. I shuffled to my desk in the corner of my bedroom and fired up my laptop.

As if on their own, my fingers typed in Jeffrey Trembly’s name and the local newspaper he worked for. News features with his byline flashed across the screen. I scrolled through dozens of stories from across the region. Everything from town board meetings to ribbon-cutting ceremonies, local fundraisers, and human-interest stories.

I thought about the expression on Jeffrey’s face when he’d admitted his feelings for the mysterious Annie Connolly. Raw. Devastated. Would Tim look that way if I were gone? If he realized, too late, all he’d had and lost?

I rolled my eyes and called the newspaper. When an efficient-sounding woman’s voice answered, I asked for Jeffrey Trembly.

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