The Discovery of Emily

By Robin B Morgan

Emily Martin and her friends are motivated only by kindness, and curiosity, when they try to locate a man who has been estranged from his family for many years. They soon discover that nothing is straightforward. What is the truth? The closer Emily comes to identifying the man, the more ambiguous the quest becomes. Unfamiliar people and places challenge long-held assumptions about herself. Is she just a vulnerable old woman, no longer capable of running her own life? That’s what her daughter, Francie, would have her believe. Or, is she perhaps a person with courage, tenacity, and impulsive curiosity? As Emily finds answers to these questions, she begins to perceive surprising possibilities for her future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robin B Morgan
• Release date: Nov 29, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463126981

Robin B Morgan

Robin B Morgan has always inhabited the rich world of her imagination. She loves to create characters and send them out on adventures she won’t try herself. She wonders if the world would be more rational, and safer, if everyone did this.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

The sex wasn’t great. I should have expected that. It was obvious that Pauli The Hog Hoag liked his women dumb and submissive... but Hell, she was positively limp. And where had I ever gotten the idea that the bitch was a knockout? When I got up close, I saw just how ‘well used’ she was... Too many years, too many men. Shit… still… there is something about her. She had been out of my reach since I’d first seen her on Hoag’s arm. The Pig (my own special name for the fat slob) didn’t share. But that didn’t mean I’d stop fantasizing about how it would be to try her out. I’d played the kid, always acting younger than I was. Made a joke about how I hung around the gang and made moon eyes at her, a harmless puppy dog.

Now that the big man has been put away for a few years she’s been more than welcoming. She faces lots of lonely nights ahead of her with no one to pay the rent. I hadn’t let her know I wouldn’t be staying, of course. If she had any brains, she could have figured that out.

The click of the closing shower door tells me I have at least 60 minutes. The first morning I’d timed her beauty routine and then complimented her. Most women took a lot longer to get together in the morning and hadn’t looked half as good. She’d beamed. It’s all in knowing how to take care of yourself. Pauli (she never called him Hog like the rest of them) hadn’t liked it if I spent too much time fussing. She’d said. Then confided, I knew I’d better keep looking good if he was going to keep me around.

I better pull on my clothes. Ordinary off-the-rack shirt and slacks. Blend in anywhere.

Her faded pink plastic jewelry case open on the old dresser. I remember how she used to flaunt the presents Pig gave her. She didn’t seem to know that they were cheap knockoffs. There were a few pieces that had looked real. No telling where they came from.

Quickly, search through her shit. No need for quiet with the massage-head pulsing water at full blast.

Fuck it all… Junk! Careful now. Put each piece back in its same spot so she won’t know I’ve been in there. Where the hell is the good stuff?

Look around the small room. Has she sold it already?

Ah ha! A faded blue traveling makeup case pushed under the bed. Mom used to have one like it. I was always fascinated by its false bottom... Sure enough, this has one too. Pocket the bracelets and rings… make things a bit more comfortable where I’m going. Take the necklace? No, too flashy. I can’t risk calling attention to myself.

What’s this? An envelope with several hundred cash at the very bottom of the space. A gift from Pig? Or had she actually been bright enough to put aside a bit for herself? Doesn’t matter how she got it, it’s mine now. Fold it up and stuff it in the front pants pocket.

The shower door just opened. Time to get going.

She still has to dry her hair, but I want to be well on my way when she finishes her makeup.

I turn toward the front door of the apartment and spot the book she always seemed to be writing in. She said it contained her happy memories to help her relive the good times.

Flip it open.

Oh, shit, she’s written in detail about our time together. That’s not good. Pig is in prison, but he still has contacts on the outside. He might take offense that this puppy dog has so quickly taken his bitch.

Check out the front of her book. Fuck! The brainless bimbo wrote down the details of every private bash she ever attended with Pig; every private party Pig threw for local power men who lead ‘perfect’ lives when they aren’t whoring or snorting. She’s described the outfits and the makeup of the ‘ladies’ brought in as escorts. Like it was some sort of red carpet. And she’s named each of the well-known men she met there. Pig couldn’t have known what she was doing. He’d have killed her.

The hairdryer is silent. Time to go.

I grab the book and quietly leave the shabby apartment. My duffle bag is already in a locker at the bus station. My new identity and tickets will be there also. The cops made good on their promises. In exchange for ratting out Pig and the boys I get a free ride out of town and a start at a new life. Funny a dumb guy like me knows how to work their system better than them. The cops never realized I haven’t given the lawyers anything they can use in court. It doesn’t pay to squeal on Pig.

Still time to get a cheap buzz cut. Short hair will have to be enough to get me out of town. I like my blond hair long and shaggy…. She used to call me the ‘sheep dog’. My hair will grow out, but there’s no way I’m getting a dye job like they wanted.

With my hand on the outside door I hesitate at the bottom of the stairs, wondering if I’m making a mistake walking out on her. It is going to be damn cold and lonely where I’m going. Seems like CeeCee’s loyalty will lie with any man who promises to take care of her. Or will it?

No. I can’t risk Pig finding me. It’s best to disappear and travel alone.

CHAPTER ONE

The day began in pain… at least that’s how Emily Martin described it afterwards, and, well… that wasn’t entirely true. The beginning of that day was quite ordinary. She rose at her regular time and went downstairs for a light breakfast of tea and wheat toast with honey. Her houseguest, Sam, enjoyed a small biscuit. Then, deferring to Sam’s needs, she delayed reading the morning paper and took him for a walk around her complex. There’d been a heavy dew overnight, and of course he wanted to go through the deepest weeds. They both returned to her unit with wet feet. She’d toweled him off and then went upstairs to change her socks.

Something so simple. Sitting on the decorative bench in her bedroom she leaned over her right foot to pull on the dry sock, not even bending very far. A slight twinge in her lower back. Excruciating spasms immediately followed. She gasped in pain as she tried to straighten.

Of course, at that moment her phone rang. The tune was the one chosen by her youngest child, Francie. Good thing she kept the smart phone in her back pocket. She was in no position to run downstairs. Her children expected to be able to reach her. A housewarming gift when she’d retired and moved to Chaucer, she sometimes imagined the phone as a ball and chain. She always felt bad for thinking that. After all, they were only looking out for her welfare. She managed to maneuver it out of her pocket by the third ring.

Hello She gasped.

Mom! What’s wrong?

Hi honey. It’s nothing. She paused to catch her breath. Just a slight muscle spasm.

Is it your back again? Just like when you overdid it packing up the house! The doctor told you to be more careful. You’re not young anymore. I knew it would be too strenuous living on your own. I don’t know why you insisted on moving out there. If you wanted to downsize, you could have moved in with me. The kids would have loved having you here and I could have taken care of you.

Emily sighed. Francie, honey. We’ve been through this several times before. Yes, that big house was too much for me to maintain, but I need a place of my own. Your father and I used to enjoy camping around Chaucer. It’s a pleasant small town, and affordable. I’m happy here. Of course, I miss you and the boys. She paused and when Francie didn’t reply she tried to reason. It’s not as if I’m the first one to move away. Your brothers and their families live in other states.

"You’ve moved away from my family."

Emily could hear the sulk in her daughter’s voice. Impossible to discuss anything with her when she’s like that. Her father had spoiled Francie and Emily had let him. They had both been responsible for enabling her view that the world owed her. Once, in a moment of complete candor, Emily had actually apologized to her son-in-law for what they’d done.

Honey, now is not a good time to talk about this. I’m going to take one of those muscle relaxants the doctor gave me and go downstairs to make Sam’s breakfast.

After a moment of silence Francie’s voice was icy. "Mother… who’s Sam? Why is he eating breakfast at your apartment?"

Sam’s a dog, Francie. My friend Isabel’s dog. I’m minding him for a few days while Isabel visits her daughter at college.

You don’t like dogs. You never let us have one.

It’s not that I don’t like them, honey. Between your father’s job at the University, and mine, a dog would have been neglected. Remember all those summer trips to the archeological sites for your dad’s research? What fun we had? What would we have done with a dog then? Emily continued before Francie could think of a reply. I’m going to hang up now, honey. I won’t promise to call you later because those pills tend to make me sleepy. The doctor said the very best thing I could do for my back would be to sit in Grandma’s rocker and take a nap.

She could hear Francie mutter. Sure, Mom. I’ll phone tomorrow to make sure you’re alright. Promise to call if you need anything. I bet if you hadn’t had the dog this would never have happened. I don’t like the idea that you let a virtual stranger take advantage of your generosity. You don’t realize how often those people target the elderly. We need to have a serious talk about this when you feel better.

Emily kept silent and rolled her eyes. Now she knew why her former students had found that gesture so satisfying. She was glad Francie couldn’t see her. Okay dear. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

Emily slid the phone into her pocket and then cautiously stood. Bent slightly at the waist, she inched her way to the bathroom. It had been a while since her last back episode but the remaining muscle relaxant had a long expiration date and had been too expensive to waste. She remembered hating the way it made her head feel, but didn’t see she had much choice. She swallowed a tablet with some water and then, since the label said Take one or two for back pain, she swallowed another.

It would take a few minutes for the pills to take effect but she couldn’t wait. She could hear Sam scratching at the temporary gate at the foot of the stairs. She didn’t want him to damage the wall. She was lucky to be the first tenant in the renovated unit and felt responsible for keeping it looking nice. She hobbled toward the top of the staircase. With every step, her grimace reflected the pain encircling her hips. Hunched over, she managed to grab the metal railing and inched her way down the stairs.

Emily loved living in the converted office of the former Chanticleer motel. The main floor of the A-frame had been the lobby where tired tourists checked in for the night. The upstairs had been designed for a live-in manager, but had never been finished. Rerouting the main tourist traffic to the new highway, and the proliferation of strip motels along it, doomed the 50’s style motor lodges at the town’s center. Most had been demolished. Walter, the current owner and her landlord, had seen the potential of the Chanticleer and invested in its renovation.

As she crept down the circular staircase, each shifting of her weight brought a renewed stab of pain. Concentrate… just two more steps! She focused all her energy on getting to the kitchen.

I’ll feed the dog and then sit until the pain lessens.

The big yellow dog danced around her feet as she carefully made her way toward the kitchen. She held the edge of the counter to support her back and groaned as she dipped and reached with her other hand for the large plastic container that Isabel had left on the bottom shelf of the pantry.

Oh, why did I tell her to put the dog food so low?

As the tub came level with her hips, Emily’s grip slipped, and it crashed onto the tile floor. The lid flew off and small bits of dried dog food spilled everywhere. Thirty pounds of dog dove for it and wolfed food as if he hadn’t eaten for a year. Sam always claimed anything that she dropped but this was an unimagined bounty. By the speed of his eating he knew he was in a race to beat the broom.

Oh Noooo…! Emily moaned in frustration. She was not going to be able to bend over and pick up the food before Sam ate it all. Gritting her teeth, she reached in the narrow kitchen closet for the broom that hung from a wall hook. Figuring the glutton had inhaled the equivalent of his morning breakfast she swept him toward the back door where he could spend some time outside contemplating his digestion. Between her groans and his belching, she maneuvered him onto the small fenced patio and slid the glass door closed.

Immediate crisis averted, Emily ignored the remaining dog food and slowly worked her way to the rocking chair in the corner of her living area. It was sturdy and had supported the backs of several generations of her family. She could only hope it would work some magic on hers. Those pills had better do their job. She settled down with just the smallest fear that she would not be able to move again.

***

Sometime later, while Emily dozed, she became aware of a noise.

Was it a tapping at her door? Or was that a crunching coming from the kitchen? She jerked awake…the dog!

Oh dear…How did he get in? Didn’t I close the door all the way? Hadn’t I flipped the lock?

She’d been warned Sam was a master at opening sliding doors. The slight breeze coming from the kitchen confirmed he had succeeded.

Emily pushed on the arms of the old rocker and levered herself into a standing position. Her head was foggy, but the pain was less severe. Step by step she moved toward the kitchen.

As Emily came even with the front door, she realized that someone was indeed tapping on it. How annoying. If she stopped to answer the door the dog would clean the floor. She was expecting no one, and was going to pay no attention, but the tapping became persistent. Now they were jiggling the door handle. Forced to choose, she left Sam to his debauchery.

With her unit so close to the sidewalk along a busy street, Emily always checked the security peephole before opening the door, but drowsy and annoyed with the dog, that day she ignored all her cautions and yanked it open. A tall, dark-haired young man, caught by surprise, was jerked across the threshold. The suddenness of the movement caused Emily to moan.

She bent over in painful spasm.

Lady …are you…are you alright?

Emily heard the distress in his voice as she leaned helplessly against the wall. She hoped he wasn’t an unusually polite robber.

I just need to sit…. my back…. that chair… She gasped between waves of pain and gestured toward the rocker. Close the door…. the dog… The man seemed to understand what was needed as he closed the front door and guided her to the chair.

Once her back was supported, Emily caught her breath and explained about Sam. She could still hear munching noises coming from the kitchen.

Don’t sound like he’s done eaten. Is there someplace outside I can put him for you?

She told him about the patio and the broom. But I’d hate for you to get hurt. Sam might not be too happy for a stranger to get between him and his food.

I’ve always been pretty good with animals, especially if I have a weapon in my hands. Let me give it a try. The man went around the corner into the kitchen and soon she heard angry growling and the man muttering something under his breath.

Is everything all right? Sam sounded vicious. Emily had never before heard more than a few snarls if someone threatened to remove his food bowl before he’d decided it was empty.

Yeah, all okay, just a little argument, but I got the broom.

Emily heard the patio door slide open, more growls and mutters, the door slide closed, the click of the latch, and the kibble being swept into the dustpan. The man returned to the living area smiling and wiping his hands in satisfaction.

There…made sure it’s closed. He’ll stay outside… unless he knows how to pick the lock.

Oh…thank you for caging the wild beast and eliminating the temptation. I was so afraid he would become terribly ill. I don’t know much about dogs. I’m just taking care of him.

He shrugged. He would’ve just puked it up… and left a real mess on your carpet.

Emily grimaced at the thought. It seems so impolite to just sit here when you’ve been so helpful. If I could get up, I’d make some fresh coffee. Would you like a can of soda? There’s some in the refrigerator...You’ll have to help yourself.

I’m okay, thanks. He hesitated. But… I could use help finding someone who might work around here.

Oh… I haven’t lived here all that long, but maybe I’ve met them. What’s their name?

Name? He hesitated, squinting as if trying to think of something. Joe? Joey…yes, they call him Joey.

Emily frowned. His response was peculiar. Maybe she just misunderstood. The muscle relaxant was doing its job. She was feeling so very tranquil. She tried to focus on what he had told her.

I don’t think that any of the gentlemen living at the Chanticleer are named Joey or even Joseph.

I was thinkin’ he works here…like as the motel manager.

Oh…. The motel closed several years ago. This is now a private apartment complex for seniors.

The outside sure looks like a motel office, he said as he looked around her living room.

It was at one time. Emily frowned. Her home was no longer a public space, and this man’s attention to it made her ill at ease. It’s been remodeled and now it’s my apartment.

Turning to her, he flashed a broad smile as if to declare his good intentions. They did a real good job. Ma’am, you truly have a nice place here. Sorry I busted in on you. He paused. Just asking, but you always open your doors to any stranger who knocks? It’s not a good idea to be so trusting at your age.

Emily was embarrassed. She had been very careless although she didn’t appreciate the ageist comment. I’m ordinarily more observant but under the circumstances…. She gestured toward the kitchen and he smiled sympathetically. He was such a nice young man and she wanted to know more about him. Perhaps she could even be of some assistance.

Since you’re here, and I’m not going anywhere for a while, please tell me about this person you’re looking for. Maybe I could help.

The man hesitated, his brow wrinkled, then he seemed to make up his mind. Ma’am, I’ll take that soda if that’s okay.

He refused her offer of a glass and placed the cold can on a coaster next to a pile of magazines on her coffee table. He perched on the edge of her small couch.

You’re a very polite young man, but you don’t have to keep calling me Ma’am. She smiled. I’m Emily Martin. Please call me Emily.

Yes, Ma’am. The edges of his mouth curled up in a broad grin. She liked how his blue eyes sparkled. I’m… Jarod…um... De…um He took a quick drink from the soda, put the can down, and cleared his throat. Excuse me, got a little frog…. Jarod Dewinter.

Well, nice to meet you. I’m guessing you’re not from around here.

He shook his head. No, I live a few hours north in… His voice was soft, and Emily couldn’t quite hear what he was saying. She didn’t think she was hard of hearing, but she was too embarrassed to ask him to repeat the name, so she just smiled and nodded her head. It might not mean anything to her anyway. She wasn’t very familiar with the northern part of the state.

He took a sip of his soda. I run a small contracting business… work on commercial buildings. I’ve taken some time off to help my family…what little of it is left. Emily could see he was struggling with some deep sorrow

After a pause he continued. My mother died a few years ago.

I’m so sorry.

Thank you... It was for the good… She’d suffered from the cancer for so long.

Oh, dear.

He smiled sadly. But she’s in a good place now… and I know she’s at peace.

And your father?

"A drunk driver hit