Page 34 of The Emma Special

There weren’t any exterior lights on, and Emma could trip over anything hidden in the knee-high grass or be bitten by an unassuming snake. He high-stepped through the yard to reach her side, placing a hand under her elbow. “Did you grow up here?”

Emma turned on her phone flashlight and pointed it toward the door knob. “Yep. Just…”

She opened the door and turned to him. Her face was hidden in shadow, but even so, her usual smile was nowhere to be found. “Just forget you saw this place. This isn’t how I live.”

“Emma, I’m not judging you. It doesn’t matter where you grew up.”

She made a hmm noise and opened the door. “Sure. Let’s check on Daisy and get out of here. It’s past my bedtime.”

The smell hit him first. Wet dog and garbage threatened to choke him as he stepped into the living room. Dark paneling covered the walls, the brown carpet was worn and covered in stains, and there were open seams on the couch.

Emma let out a sigh. “Sorry about this. Who goes on vacation without taking out the trash?”

She bagged up the garbage, and James took it from her.

“I’ll take care of this. You handle the dog.”

“It’s just outside.”

James checked for the raccoon before hefting the bag into the can. The critter would be back soon, and he didn’t want to be around when it reappeared.

Back inside, James swiped his hands down his pants. The place still reeked of dog and moldy food.

Emma’s sweet voice drifted from down the hallway. “Now, just stay still. I know you hate the collar.”

A scuffle ensued, and Emma let out an “oof.” High-pitched yapping and a series of bumps followed the dog as it dashed into the living room.

“James! Don’t move!”

The terrier was living up to its breed. A matted little devil thumped against the walls and furniture as she rushed around the room, yipping with all her might. She flew into a stack of old take-out containers beside a cluttered coffee table.

“Daisy is blind!” Emma panted as she entered the room with a leash slack in her hand. “If we chase her, she’ll have a panic attack or another seizure."

“Another seizure?” James shook his head as Daisy ran head-long into the side of the worn-out couch. “She’s blind and epileptic?”

Emma lifted her hands as Daisy crashed around the room. “Yes. Just stay still and let her wear herself out. Then I can sneak up on her.”

The dog shook her head and turned ninety degrees to run into something else.

“She’ll give herself a concussion.” James stepped to block her path into the kitchen. “Can dogs get concussions?”

Emma crouched in the hallway, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a laugh. “Daisy is tougher than she looks. She’s feisty.”

“That she is.”

“Just don’t make any sudden movements. She’s fine as long as things around her are still.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest to wait out the dog’s erratic fit.

“I’m not convinced she’s fine.”

“Sorry about…” She waved her hands around like a chef tossing a pizza crust. “I was kinda hoping you’d never see all of this.”

James scanned the photos on the wall. Old glamor shots were framed, showcasing older people. Smaller, framed photos were propped up on a shelf. Emma on a bike. Emma climbing a tree. Emma covered in mud.

“That’s you, isn’t it?” James pointed to the photos and stepped closer. “Look at those pigtails. And look at those cheeks! What do you have in there? Storing up acorns? Wow, you’re adorable.”

“Okay. That’s enough of the trip down memory lane.” She dodged Daisy and jumped in between him and the view of her childhood.

“Really.” He made a show of trying to look over her shoulder. “I’m enjoying myself. We should stick around so I can check for more Emma cuteness.”