“Mom…” Emily stammered.
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Would her mom really not come just to spite her? What would people think? Probably that Emily was an orphan, without her dad there, without her mom. And no sister. In many ways, she was an orphan. It was just her against the world.
“Fine,” Emily said, suddenly hot-cheeked. “Do what you want. You always have.” Then she ended the call without saying goodbye.
Emily didn’t want to cry. In fact, she refused to. Not for her mom, it wasn’t worth it. But for her dad, that was another matter altogether. She missed him desperately, and now that she was convinced he was still alive, she wanted to see him badly. But there was no way of reaching him. The woman he’d been cheating on her mom with had passed away several years ago, and anyway, she’d been as stumped as the rest of them about Roy’s disappearance. All Emily knew was that while not having her mom at the wedding would be painful, not having her dad there would be devastating. In that moment, Emily doubled her resolve to track him down. Someone somewhere must know something.
Emily went back inside the inn. She was tired from the long day and climbed the stairs to bed. But when she reached her bedroom she saw that Daniel wasn’t there. Her momentary panic was quelled when Daniel entered the room, cell phone in hand.
“Where have you been?” Emily asked.
“I just called my mom,” Daniel replied. “To tell her about the wedding.”
Emily almost laughed with surprise. That they’d both call their moms simultaneously like that was more than a coincidence; it was clearly a sign of their connection to one another.
“How did it go?” Emily asked, though she could tell by Daniel’s expression that the answer wasn’t going to be good.
“How do you think?” Daniel said, raising an eyebrow. “She played the Chantelle card again, saying she’ll only come to the wedding if we promise to let her spend regular time with Chantelle. I wish she could see what a destructive force she can be and understand why I don’t want her meddling with my kid. Not while she’s still drinking too much. Chantelle needs to be around sober adults after what she went through with her own mom.” He slumped onto the edge of the bed. “She just can’t see my point. She doesn’t get it. ‘Everyone drinks,’ that’s what she always says. ‘I’m no worse than anyone else.’ Maybe she isn’t, but it’s not what Chantelle needs. If she cared about her granddaughter as much as she claims she does, she’d kick the habit for her sake.”