Emma's Secret: A Novel by Steena Holmes

around her small frame.
    “Come sit down, Papa.” Emmie wiggled against him. She held tight to his hand, not letting him go as she dragged him over to the table where her father stood.
    “This is the best date ever, Daddy! I can’t believe that Papa is here, in our donut shop! I’m so excited!” She chattered away as the two men stood still, eyeing each other before they both sat down in unison.
    Both men remained silent while Emmie babbled, picking at the sprinkles on the new donut that the waitress brought to her. She didn’t seem to notice their silence. Jack listened to his girl talk, drinking in the sound of her voice as she described how Daisy had grown. He expected the little pup he’d picked up for Emmie to be almost full-sized now, although, seeing how it had been the runt of the litter, he didn’t expect the dog to be too big.
    Jack didn’t fail to notice the way her father suddenly reached his hand across the table and waited for him to shake it; nor did he miss the way Emmie’s eyes darted back and forth between the two men as if she were waiting to see what would happen.
    “We were never introduced. I’m Peter.” A look filtered across his eyes that Jack understood all too well. “Emma’s father.”
    Jack gripped the man’s hand and was assured of the strength in the grip.
    “Jack.”
    Emmie shook her head. “No, he’s Papa.”
    Jack smiled at her, his features softening as he was mesmerized by the bright sheen to her eyes. “To you, I’m Papa. But to everyone else, I’m Jack.”
    Emmie cocked her head. “Like how I’m Emmie to you, but everyone else calls me Emma?”
    “That’s because your name is Emma,” Peter confirmed.
    Jack nodded as the truth of what Dottie and he had done hit him square in the face again. “Do you remember when I first met you?” He wasn’t sure if she’d remember that far back, or if her mind had blocked those first few months, like he’d been told might happen.
    Emmie’s face scrunched up. She closed her eyes, and her lips moved as if she were talking to herself. “I remember you gave me a balloon.”
    Jack’s eyes misted at that memory. He’d found a bag of balloons in one of their junk drawers while Dottie had been out that day. Emmie looked so scared and alone, and all he could remember was how much Mary had liked balloons as a little girl.
    Out of the corner of his eye, Jack noticed Peter’s back straightening and the tightening grip on his coffee cup. Jack nodded, as if to assure him that he wasn’t going to do anything to hurt their little girl. He could only pray that Peter believed him.
    Jack lowered his voice. “Do you remember what happened before I gave you the balloon?”
    Emmie shook her head.
    Jack made sure he added a smile to his voice. This was just like when he’d read her a story at night. Sometimes he’d tell her stories of his daughter Mary, and sometimes he’d tell her stories of when she first came to stay with them. “Well, you were holding on to Grandma’s hand real tight. You were such a brave little girl, though.” He quickly glanced at Peter to gauge his reaction. Peter’s lips thinned at the word “Grandma,” but when he saw Jack’s penetrating look, he gave a slight dip of his head. Jack took that as acceptance and continued.
    “You were so quiet, and you were holding on to your stuffed animal so tight. I asked you what your name was, and you whispered it so quietly that I could barely hear. But I think Tiger knew I couldn’t hear, because you whispered your name again into its ear and then held it up high to whisper in mine. Do you remember that?” Jack waited as Emmie bit her lip.
    “I think so,” she said. She glanced up at Peter. “Papa knows that Tiger is really a lion, so it’s okay, Daddy.”
    Jack smiled. Apparently, they’d had the same discussion. Dottie tried to get Emmie to change the lion’s name to something other than Tiger, but Emmie wouldn’t have it. The girl could be so stubborn