Forever, With You

CHAPTER THREE

Emily stood on the porch, looking out anxiously for Daniel’s return. She twisted her hands as her worst fears swirled in her mind. Daniel had promised not to do this, not to drive off on his motorbike without telling her. If he was breaking that promise, could it be because he was running out on them? Had his day with Chantelle been so difficult on him that he’d decided to abandon her in Emily’s care? She didn’t want to think such terrible thoughts, she wanted to trust him, but he’d let her down like this before.

Emily held onto the doorframe to steady herself, her breath coming in short pants. When Daniel had first returned it had felt like he was a soldier returning from war. Now, as Emily waited for him with a heavy pit growing in her abdomen, she felt like she was waiting for that soldier once again.

Just then she picked up on the sound of the motorcycle’s engine in the distance. She strained to hear, her hope spiking. The sound grew louder and louder until she was convinced that it was indeed Daniel returning home. She squeezed her eyes shut with relief and exhaled the breath she’d been holding.

The motorcycle rounded the corner and drove up the driveway toward her, catching her in its headlights, making her squint. Then it pulled to a halt. The engine cut out and silence enveloped them.

Emily rushed down the steps as Daniel pulled of his helmet. “You’re awake,” he said with a grin. “I wasn’t sure if you were down for the night.” Then his smile disappeared as he caught Emily’s expression.

“You jerk,” she barked. “Where have you been?”

Daniel frowned. “I went to get gas. I’ve been gone like fifteen minutes.”

“You can’t do that,” Emily shouted. “Take off like that. I had no idea where you were.”

“I’m sorry,” Daniel stammered. “You’d fallen asleep. I thought I’d just quickly get gas.”

Emily took another deep breath, trying to calm herself. She felt Daniel wrap his arms around her shoulders.

“You can’t disappear on me like that,” Emily gasped. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he said into the crown of her head. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

They stayed like that, holding one another under the moon and stars, for a long, long time.

“I’m not going to leave you, Emily,” Daniel said finally. “You have to trust me.”

“You don’t always make it easy to,” Emily replied, pulling out of his embrace.

“I know,” Daniel agreed. “But I’m not going anywhere. I moved in with you, remember?”

Emily nodded. It was proof of his commitment, but it didn’t fully comfort her.

Daniel continued. “And while I was on my ride I was thinking about the carriage house, about how we can make it a self-contained vacation house like you wanted. I’ll do the work myself, as a thank you for everything you’ve done for me and Chantelle.”

Emily started to feel herself warm up again, the anguish that had built up starting to finally melt away.

“It will be a great source of income for you,” Daniel added. “Then when Chantelle’s a teenager we could let her use it, give her some space away from her boring mom and dad.”

His words struck a chord deep within Emily. Daniel hadn’t been able to project their relationship further ahead than a few months at a time. Now he was talking in decades. He was referring to her as the “mom.” For the first time, he was truly seeing them as a unit, as two halves of a team.

But as Daniel and Emily lay in one another’s arms in bed that night, Emily’s fears flickered in her mind over and over again. Daniel’s little stunt with the motorcycle had reawakened her long-held fear of abandonment. Just a few weeks ago she was planning on a life without Daniel. Now suddenly he seemed committed to her. Could he really switch like that, so seamlessly, so quickly? And was it really because he’d realized how important their relationship was to him?

Or was he just being pushed along because of Chantelle?

*

The next morning, Emily woke early, almost startling herself out of slumber. When she realized Daniel was in bed beside her she relaxed and fell back against the pillow, breathing deeply. She shouldn’t have to feel relief at the sight of Daniel beside her. She should feel content.

She gazed at Daniel’s sleeping face and felt her anguish melt away. It felt so right to have him here, back with her, to have them all together. She shouldn’t have doubted him when he said he was coming back to her. And she shouldn’t have overreacted to his bike ride last night.

Daniel was still sleeping deeply so Emily decided to leave him be. He must be exhausted from the long drive and all the emotions and need to catch up on all the missed sleep. She was certain she was capable enough to dress Chantelle and make her breakfast alone. Then she could show the girl the chickens and they could walk the dogs together down to the beach.

Excited by the prospect, Emily quickly showered and put some clothes on. Once ready for the day, she left her bedroom and the still snoring Daniel, and opened the door to the room next door. To her horror, Chantelle’s bed was empty.

Emily felt a sick sensation sweep through her. Where could the little girl be?

Panic-stricken, Emily started reeling through a million scenarios in her mind: Chantelle had found the door up to the widow’s walk and had plummeted from the roof; she’d found one of the abandoned, dilapidated barns out in back and had become crushed by falling debris; she’d followed the path down to the coast and had been swept out to sea. But before Emily had the chance to scream out Daniel’s name, she heard the sound of laughter coming from outside.

Emily rushed to the window and pulled back the curtains. There in the backyard was Chantelle playing with Mogsy and Rain, laughing and screaming as the dogs jumped at her and ran in excited circles around her. Chantelle was still wearing the large T-shirt Emily had put her in for bed. Her feet were completely bare.

Emily ran out the door and downstairs. She didn’t want to scare Chantelle but she also didn’t think it was a good idea for the little girl to be outside unsupervised and barely dressed. Though she felt like Sunset Harbor was a safe neighborhood, she herself had grown up in New York City and would forever feel a sense of anxiety over the terrible things people could do to one another.

Leaning out the back door, Emily called out to Chantelle. The little girl looked up, grinning widely. Her feet were green from running in the dewy grass.

“Come inside, sweetie,” Emily called. “Time for pancakes.”

“I want to play!” Chantelle replied.

“In a minute,” Emily said, still trying to sound calm and friendly. “First you need some breakfast. Then once you’re dressed we can take the dogs to the beach and play there. How does that sound?”

Chantelle frowned at Emily and her face grew red. For the first time, Emily got a sense of the troubles Chantelle had experienced. In her dark face, she saw anger and bitterness. She knew it wasn’t directed at her but at this terrible world, the terrible people she’d known and the terrible experiences she’d had the misfortune of experiencing. It was probably only coming out now because Emily and Daniel had provided a safety net in which Chantelle could explore that side of herself without fear of retribution.

Suddenly, Chantelle tipped her head back and began to bawl loudly. Emily took a deep breath. She couldn’t help but think of all the thousands of moms she’d seen in her lifetime dealing with a child’s tantrum, the weary looks on their faces, the embarrassment mixed with anger. But she knew if she wanted Chantelle to trust her and grow up happy and well adjusted, losing her cool was not an option.

She strolled into the garden and took Chantelle’s hand. “Come on, sweetie,” she said, as though Chantelle’s cries weren’t piercing her eardrums.

Just then, Emily noticed someone coming up the drive. Trevor. Of course. How typical he’d pick this moment to come and taunt her.

“What is it, Trevor?” Emily hissed, feeling no qualms about losing her cool with him.

“What do you think it could be?” Trevor mumbled. “It’s not yet seven a.m. and this child is making a racket in the yard. She is disturbing my right to peace.”

Chantelle immediately went quiet. She reached out and grabbed Emily’s hand, almost like an apology for getting her in trouble.

“We’re just finding our feet,” Emily said with a sigh, amazed by how little she cared about Trevor’s quibbles these days. “And Chantelle’s starting school tomorrow so it won’t happen again.”

“There’s always the weekend,” Trevor sneered.

“We’ll make sure not to wake you before seven again.” Emily sighed. “Won’t we, Chantelle?”

But when she looked down at the little girl, she saw that tears were streaming down her face and she was trembling with fear. Seeing her distressed in that way made something erupt in Emily, a sudden maternal drive to defend her child.

She turned on Trevor, suddenly fuming, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “Do you know what, Trevor? Chantelle can play in her yard whenever the hell she wants to. My house, my child, my rules.”

Trevor looked a little taken aback at the outburst. But he quickly recovered, his expression turning back into its usual sneer. “She’s not your child though, is she?”