“Harley invited me,” said Emma.
“It’s perfectly fine,” Jamie assured her over the rush of the water.
“Harley has questions for me.” Emma spoke loudly, too, as Jamie shut off the tap.
“Lots of questions,” agreed Harley.
“Joy’s not there anymore,” Emma told Jamie seriously.
“New camp director’s name is Hope something,” volunteered Harley, giving Jamie an inkling to what they were talking about.
“Well, how about this? I’ve been invited to parents’ weekend, and Emma got a call about being an alumna. Maybe we’ll see you there.”
Emma blinked, her blue eyes blank. “Who called me?” Jamie explained about the phone call from someone named Tina associated with the camp and a subsequent email message. Harley looked at Jamie in consternation and asked, “You’re not going to go, are you?”
Jamie smiled, some of her tension dissipating. “What? You don’t want me there?” She clutched her chest in mock horror.
“Mom . . .” Harley’s lips curved.
“You need to stay away,” stated Emma, firmly missing the banter entirely. “So does Harley.”
“Too late for that. I’m going,” said Harley.
Jamie glanced back at the clock. Cooper would be home soon and she really needed to talk to him. She’d been the one gung-ho for the surrogate. He’d gone along with her, but cautiously, and now it felt like their situations were reversed. It was big news and good news, and she wanted to share it with him alone before telling anyone else. She pushed away the flutter of anxiety that tried to take hold again.
“Mom, I don’t really care whether you go or not,” Harley said after a moment.
“Thank you, honey.”
Emma said, “Bad things happened there. I saw him go in the lake.”
“Who?” Harley and Jamie asked at the same time, and then Harley added, “That Ryan guy?”
Emma cocked her head, a sure sign she was thinking that over carefully.
“Haven Commune is right by the camp,” Jamie remarked. “That’s where Mary Jo grew up.”
Harley and Emma looked at her and even Duchess, sensing something possibly momentous, stopped chewing on the dog toy she’d found behind one of the dining room chairs and looked up, ears pricked. Jamie hadn’t meant to sound like she was making such a proclamation, but clearly something in her voice had reached them.
“Your potential surrogate? She’s one of those cult people?” asked Harley.
“Ryan said they were nice,” said Emma.
Now Jamie and Harley switched their attention to her. “The cult people?” Harley asked again, this time carefully.
Jamie understood how she was feeling. You had to be cautious when you were trying to talk to Emma, if you really wanted something from her. You could scare her into forgetting the point if you spoke with too much emotion, allowing the flotsam and jetsam that floated in her mind to get in the way.
Now Emma stated clearly, “He said they weren’t a cult.”
The rumble of Cooper’s SUV could be heard as it turned into the drive and headed down the long approach to the back door. It was barely five thirty, but he’d said he’d be home early tonight and Jamie had made dinner with that expectation. She hoped to finish up and then maybe go out with him somewhere for an after-dinner drink or just quiet time together. She hadn’t counted on Emma, though. It wasn’t much of a problem as Harley could take her home, or maybe Emma would spend the night, though she struggled with too much of a break in routine. It just made it harder to carve out some time for her to speak freely with Cooper. As the thought crossed her mind, she watched Emma line up the salt and pepper shakers on the table and place them carefully in front of the napkin holder. A tell that she might be feeling stressed and needed to redefine order in her life.
“That Ryan guy said he wanted to see you the night before he died?” clarified Harley. “That night.”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“I know that, Emma,” she said patiently. “But do you think someone did?”
Jamie was about to intervene, certain Emma would start to hyperventilate because it’s what often happened when she was confronted with feelings and fears from her past, whether the threat was real or imagined, but the words died in her throat when she realized this time Emma was in control of herself.
“Who?” pressed Harley.
Emma leaned forward and Harley leaned toward her.
She said something Jamie couldn’t hear because Cooper pushed open the back door at that exact moment and sang out, “I’m home,” and Duchess leapt up with a little bark of happiness, rushing toward him. As he came down the hall toward the kitchen, trying to tug the rope toy from Duchess’s mouth, Cooper stopped short at the frozen tableau in front of him.
“What’d I miss?” he asked.
“Nothing,” said Harley, who’d been on the edge of her seat but now had pulled back. “I thought it was a murder/suicide.” She turned her eyes Jamie’s way. Jamie flicked a look toward Emma, but Emma was watching Duchess wrangle playfully with Cooper. Cooper, brown hair falling forward, couldn’t disengage from the dog and was grinning as Duchess decided it was time to play.
“I’m going to change,” said Harley and took the steps two at a time, which caught Duchess’s attention. The dog turned around, her flaglike tail swooping out behind her as she rushed up the stairs after Harley.
“Dinner’s in, uh, ten,” Jamie called after her. Cooper, freed up, washed his hands at the kitchen sink, then swept Jamie close and nuzzled her neck until she grinned and slapped at him. “You’re tickling me!”
Emma said in her flat way, “I want Twink to live with us here.”
Jamie and Cooper slowly pulled apart.
“The cat?” Jamie asked.
“Mr. Atkinson thinks Twink is bad for business,” said Emma.
“Hmmm.” Cooper was faintly amused and trying not to show it. Well, yeah, Twink was bad for business. Who needed a “death prognosticator” amongst their elderly clientele? “Maybe you should ask the cat if she wants to leave,” he suggested as he reached into the refrigerator for a beer.
“Twink won’t answer me.”
Cooper pulled out a bottle opener from the junk drawer and snapped off the cap, eying his sister-in-law.
“Twink doesn’t talk,” Emma pointed out. “But she plays with Jewell’s feet in the dining room, even though she knows she’s not supposed to. Jewell will probably die.”
Harley’s steps clambered down the stairs. She appeared in sweats and socks.” The cat plays with her feet?” she asked as she rejoined them.
Emma nodded gravely. “And then Mr. Atkinson will chase her out.”
“I think we need to talk this over, Emma,” said Cooper.
“We need a little time to think about it,” agreed Jamie. “And who’s to say Twink would stay with us anyway? You said she was missing for a while, but then showed up again at Ridge Pointe. She seems to think it’s her home.”
“Ridge Pointe is her home. But it can’t be with Mr. Atkinson there.” Emma was clear on that.