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“Okay...two entire cases of treats for the rescue. Piece of cake, right?”
Emma glanced over at Riley, who was looking up at her expectantly. “I’m sorry, I haven’t fed you yet, have I?”
Riley answered with a resounding bark. Emma chuckled as she grabbed the bag of dog food from the pantry and filled Riley’s dish. Kara had called her that morning and told her about an upcoming fundraiser at Second Chance Rescue. She would need to double her usual order of Riley’s Recipe for the event.
Emma closed the dog food bag and took inventory of her current dog treat supplies. She realized she was going to need to run to store and grab more pumpkin puree and few jars of all-natural peanut butter. After double checking the backdoor, ensuring it was locked, she reached down and gave Riley a head scratch.
“I’ll be home soon. Momma’s gonna miss you. Be a good boy, okay?”
Riley whined and plopped himself down by the door, knowing she was going to leave. Emma grabbed her keys, locked the front door behind her, and walked out to the car. After she set her purse down in the passenger seat, she paused to admire the simple beauty of the cottage. This wasn’t the life she had planned: single, forty, and living paycheck to paycheck. But nothing good would come from dwelling on the “should’ves” or “could’ves” of life. Things were going to work themselves out, she told herself.
At that moment, her attention shot over to the window where Riley was peeking through the sage curtains. A wisp of a smile touched her face, warming her heart, grateful for his love. She blew him a kiss and waved before pulling out of the driveway and onto the main road.
The supermarket was more crowded than usual when Emma pulled into the parking lot. Strange, she thought after she parked and quick-stepped inside toward the baking aisle to grab the essentials. On trips like this in the past, she’d end up coming home with two armfuls of bags stuffed with things that weren’t on the list. But since the divorce, finances were tight, making her more budget conscious and only buying what was needed for now. She had even followed the supermarket’s Facebook page to receive coupons and updates about their newest sales. Emma found a quiet joy in how far a dollar could stretch with some intentionality. Years ago, she never would’ve imagined herself being so thrifty, but was proud of how quickly she had adjusted.
As she headed for the checkout line, she was relieved to see all the lines were open, pushing the droves of people through. The store manager paced back and forth between the registers, a conductor to his orchestra of cashiers and baggers, using his approval card here and there, ensuring there were no bottlenecks. The supermarket staff moved together in perfect harmony, not missing a beat.
One cashier waved Emma down, “Ma’am, I’m open over here.”
Emma walked over and set her items on the checkout counter and dug through her purse for her store rewards card. Just then, a familiar voice called out from behind her, “Emma?”
An eerie chill ran down her spine as she turned and faced the one person she thought she’d never see again.
“I thought that was you, Em.”
“Paul?” Emma felt like she had seen a ghost. It was her estranged father. Her heart raced as she laid eyes on him, the man who had abandoned her so many years ago. It had been almost thirty years since she had seen him, but time had not been kind. His hair was now gray, and his belly had grown round, but he still looked like the same deadbeat dad who had left her behind so long ago.
As memories flooded her mind, Emma felt the pain of abandonment wash over her once again. The wound was still as fresh as ever, the hurt and betrayal as raw as the day he had skipped town and left her behind as a child.
Despite the years that had passed, Emma found herself struggling to hold back tears as she confronted the man who had caused her so much pain. She wondered if he could see the hurt in her eyes, the anger and disappointment that still simmered beneath the surface.
“That’ll be $14.53.”
“What?” Emma turned back to the cashier, realizing she’d already rang her up. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
Emma reached in her purse and pulled out a couple of bills, handing them to the cashier. Looking back at Paul, she noticed he was wearing a Hadley Cove Police Department uniform.
“Emma, I’m sorry about the way I left,” he said in a remorseful tone. “It took me a few years to get my life back together.”
A few years? Try almost three decades, she thought, feeling anger rise within in her like a tempestuous storm.
Emma grabbed her bags and forced a smile. “Well, um, that’s good for you, Paul. I’ll see you around. Or actually, I’d rather not.”
As she walked away, Paul followed right behind her. “Wait, Emma! Can we talk?” He pointed to his badge. “I got my old job back on the force and I’m here to stay this time. I can see you’re in a hurry right now, but maybe I could get your number and we could meet for coffee? Things have changed. I’ve changed. I promise.”
Emma snapped out of her daze and gave him a scorching glare. “You promise? Oh, I’ve heard that line before. And you want to meet for coffee? Really, just like that? Like nothing ever happened? You really don’t get it, do you? You’ve been dead to me for years now.”
Paul winced. “I know I hurt you, sweetheart. But I’m here now to make up for it–”
“Don’t call me sweetheart!” She yelled, realizing people were staring. Groaning, she walked out of the store and over to her car. To her dismay, Paul was right on her heels.
“Please, just give me another chance, Emma. I messed up at being your dad, but I want to make it right. I did and said a lot of things I shouldn’t have, and for that I will always be sorry.”
“Well, thanks for your ‘apology’,” Emma said snidely, using her hands to make air quotes. “But I don’t need to hear it. I don’t want it. You can keep it for all I care.”
Paul let out a deflated sigh, putting his hands in his pocket and looking downward and back up to her. “Are you sure I can’t just have your number? Maybe we can get together when you’ve had time to think about it–”
“No, Paul. I don’t want to give you my number and I don’t want to get coffee with you. I’m done with this conversation.”
