Page 77 of The Emma Special

It could be blooming roses if she married James.

Emma shook her head. What was she doing? Even stray thoughts like that could cause her to make a stupid decision if she wasn’t careful. For Pete’s sake, this was matrimony, not Monopoly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Emma’s mother scoffed. “What am I supposed to do with Daisy? We’re leaving in an hour.”

“I’m sorry. You could call the kennel downtown and see if they have⁠—”

“Why would I call a kennel when you literally do this for everyone else? Forget the food. Just come stay here and keep an eye on her.”

“Mom, my knee⁠—”

“I’m so tired of hearing you whine about your knee. I’m not asking you to lift weights. She’s a terrier.”

“I can’t walk.”

Uh oh. Her voice broke on that last word. Why was her breakdown happening now? Showing weakness around Janey would only make things worse.

But it was the truth. She couldn’t walk. Bending over to clean floors or lift four-pound dogs with incontinence issues wasn’t possible. She couldn’t get a job. She couldn’t get the surgery she needed to be able to get back to good things.

She was stuck. How was she going to get out of this one?

A door slammed on her mom’s end of the call. “You know, if you’d just get yourself knocked up, you could start collecting child support and welfare. It’s not hard. Once you get pregnant, you’ll be livin’ in high cotton. The government really steps up when you got a baby involved.”

Emma wrapped her arms around her middle and leaned forward. The panic was approaching faster than a racecar flying past the checkered flag at Talladega Superspeedway.

“I can’t do that. I can’t.”

“Don’t throw a hissy fit. It worked out just fine for me.”

“Sure, I’ll let James Moore father my babies. That’ll fix everything.” The bitter sarcasm flew out with immediate regret.

Her mother cackled a harsh laugh. “Wouldn’t that ruffle their feathers. Little secretary sleeping with the boss man. Go for it, child. They might sweep you under the rug, but they’ll pay to keep you quiet. What’s this about you not having money anyway? Aren’t they paying you?”

Emma’s teeth vibrated. She had no words.

“Emma?”

“I don’t work there anymore,” she said softly.

Her mother crowed. “You weren’t kidding. Good for you, but I could have told you not to reach so high. Ah, well, maybe they’ll let you come in and clean.” Her mother let a few curse words fly. “I’ve gotta go. Daisy puked on the bathroom rug.”

And just like that, the conversation was over.

What good had come out of answering? Well, she got another pleasant option to add to the table—pregnancy—and a confirmation that she’d been nothing more than Janey’s meal ticket.

A horn blared outside announcing Summer’s arrival. While Emma struggled to pull her shoes on, Summer breezed inside. “Get in, hot stuff, we’re going flower-pickin’.”

Twenty minutes later, Summer had Emma settled on an old quilt in the shade of a live oak. Emma held a hose over a three-gallon bucket. When it was halfway full she quickly switched to the next bucket. Once all four were filled she hollered across the yard. “That’s good!”

Gravel crunched under the wheels of an incoming vehicle. The familiar low pulsing of the engine announced Katie’s arrival in the tank.

“The cavalry is here!” Allison strode across the lawn wearing stained jeans and a loose cotton button-up—a tall fashion queen even in old work clothes. “I brought snacks too.” She dropped a tote larger than a beach bag onto the blanket.

“Emma’s not hungry,” Katie said with a smile. “Mr. Hottie brought her lunch.”

“How did—” Emma started. Right, James said he’d talked to Katie already. That made sense. Is that why Katie hadn’t come back after lunch?

Emma pointed at Katie. “Wait a minute.” The three girls all looked at her expectantly. They knew this was about James. They knew he’d had lunch with her.