Chapter one

Emily lay quietly in bed, staring up at the eerie shadows the moonlight cast on her ceiling. She'd been lying that way for some time, listening to her mother pack and move about the house in a strange way. As soon as Emily had gotten home that afternoon she had known something was wrong. Then at night her mother had tucked her into bad and whispered "I love you" in such a strange way that Emily had not been able to get the words out of her mind. She hadn't understood.

But now she did. Now, as she heard her mother softly close and lock the front door, as she heard the motor of her mom's car start up and then fade into the distance; now she understood. Her mommy had left her and was never coming back. Oh, she hadn't said that, but Emily knew that she would never see her mother again.

A tear tricked down her right cheek and she brushed it away. "Mommy's not coming back Maggie." She whispered to her doll, trying to understand the situation as best as her five-and-a-half year old mind could.

She pushed back her blanket and sat up slowly. "What now Maggie?" The doll offered no response and Emily knew that she would have to come up with the answer on her own.

"Warm milk is what I need. Warm milk always makes things better." At least, that's what Mommy had always told her. Emily slid to the floor and peered out her bedroom door into the hallway. The little moon-shaped nightlight had must have burned out because all she could see was darkness, and Emily hated going down the hall when it was dark.

"Well I can't stay here." Talking out loud broke some of the unwelcome silence. "There's a light in the kitchen, I can make it that far because I'm five and a half now." And with that she hurried down the hall and into the kitchen. She stood on tip-toes, arm stretched, to reach the switch. Once light flooded the room she felt much better.

Next to the table sat a suitcase with a note taped to the top. She read the note curiously:

My Dearest Emily Rose

I have to go my darling. I wish I could take you with me, but I cannot. You must understand. I want you to take this suitcase and go stay with the Curtis'. Mrs. Curtis can be your new mommy. She will take care of you like I have. I'll come back and get you if I can, you know that. You be a good girl, and keep Mommy's secrets ok? Hugs and Kisses for my little girl.

Emily re-read the letter, memorizing it, before tearing it into little pieces. This letter was special, just for her, and she didn't want anyone else to look at it. Then she stood, transfixed, for quite a long time. She did not WANT a new mommy, she wanted her old mommy. But what had happened had happened and Emily couldn't change it. But oh how she wished her mommy had at least told her where she was going. And why couldn't she take Emily along? She always took Emily places with her. It probably had to do with those two men that had come the other day.

"Go stay with the Curtises." The note had said. Emily looked up at the clock situated over the stove. 12:45. Now would probably not be a good time to announce her arrival. She would wait until morning. But that was quite a ways away.

"I was wanting warm milk." She reminded herself bluntly, but as she glanced at the sink she noticed all of their supper dishes were still there, unwashed.

"If I'm going to live with the Curtises, then someone else is going to live here." She frowned thoughtfully. "And the house really should look neat when they come." So forgetting the milk, she pushed a chair over to the sink and began filling it, just the way Mommy had taught her.

As she washed the dishes she began to think about what her life would be like living with the Curtis family. Emily really liked Mrs. Curtis. She had very beautiful eyes and a very kind voice. Everything about Mrs. Curtis was beautiful, but Emily would not call her Mommy. She would simply call her Mom, so the two wouldn't get mixed up.

Mr. Curtis was just a tiny bit daunting because of his size, but he was full of fun. He didn't remind Emily anything of her own Father, but she liked him just the same. He would tell her lots of stories and give her big, squeezing hugs.

Emily loved the hugs that felt like she was going to suffocate because they were so strong and made her feel safe.

Then there were the boys - her new brothers. Darry was the oldest and was very sensible. He was always telling Emily practical things and trying to boss around his brothers. He didn't boss her around much though, he usually did what she asked him to do because he liked her.

When she thought about her next two brothers, she smiled to herself. Sodapop and Ponyboy. She had known someone named Darry, but she had never known anyone named Sodapop or Ponyboy before. She liked their names, especially Sodapop's. Sometimes she would amuse herself by saying his name over and over, smacking her lips together at the end to form a popping sound. Once she had shared her joy with Ponyboy and the two had sat popping Soda's name, seeing who could make the biggest and loudest pops. It had been great fun until Darry had turned and told them to "Stop popping or I'll pop you!"

Emily repeated Soda's name in this manner now and made a pop that she was sure could beat Pony's any day. To Emily, Soda was the exact image of his mother. She loved how much he smiled and joked and had fun. Ponyboy was closest to her age, maybe she would share a room with him. That might be fun. Then they could lay awake all night and read books together.

Emily rinsed the last dish and then started the process of putting them all away. She had to crawl along the counters to reach the cupboards, but Mommy had never minded when she did this. After the kitchen was clean she went through the rest of the tiny house, picking up small messes here and there.

She saved her Mommy's bedroom for last and entered in with a seeming awe. The first thing she noticed was the blue and white quilt spread neatly over her mother's bed. It was strange, Emily thought, that her mommy had taken such pains to neatly make her bed when she had left the rest of the house such a mess. Across from the bed was a little vanity table. Emily looked in the mirror and tried to see herself as someone else might.

A plain little girl with black hair that waved loosely to her shoulders. A girl with dark skin and dark brown eyes, outlined by dark, thick lashes. Emily had always wished she could have had blue eyes, or green, or some other shade that would give her face a spark of color. Her nose was small and straight and her chin was more square than round. The only thing she liked about herself were the tiny dimples that appeared on either side of her mouth when she smiled. There were times that she refused to smile because she wanted to keep them hidden.

Her gaze moved from her face to the rest of her. She wore one of her father's old red T-shirts that had "Navajo" written in white letters across the front. It was her favorite shirt because it reminded her of how proud her daddy had been of being an Indian. She took note that the shirt came to the middle of her knees. A stranger wouldn't know, but that was how she knew how much she was growing. When daddy had given her the shirt, it had covered her knees completely.

Emily picked up her mommy's perfume bottle and sprayed herself, turning this way and that, the way she had seen her mommy do it. The fragrance that filled the room also filled her soul with sadness and regret. It reminded her too much of the lady that was never coming back, and she should have known better. Setting the bottle down, she noticed that her hair had a rather nasty tangle in the back.

"It won't do to go over to the Curtis' house looking like that." she said and picked up the brush.

"Oh dear. Mommy forgot her brush." Emily shook her head slightly. She loved her mommy, but sometimes she didn't remember things too good. "I wonder if she remembered to pack my brush. I better go and see."

Which was a good thing, as it turned out, because her mommy hadn't remembered to pack her a toothbrush or any socks either. "I don't need socks right now, Mommy, but I will need them this fall and I don't want to wear any of Ponyboy's."

She placed the few items into her suitcase, retrieved Maggie from her own bed, and returned to her mommy's bedroom, again looking at herself in the mirror. She looked the same as she always did and not at all like a child who had just lost her mommy. No real solution had come to mind about handling the situation so she crawled into the middle of her mommy's bed and thought.

Some girls, she supposed, would have become upset, crying and moaning and feeling sorry for themselves. One of Emily's friends had been that way but it had only seemed to make the girl more miserable than ever. Other girls, the spoiled ones, would have thrown a fit for things not going the way they wanted. Emily had tried that once, but her daddy had only looked at her strangely and told her to stop acting like a child. And besides, there wasn't anyone around to hear.

The past is the past Emily my girl. Her father's words rang in her head. Chin up, things won't be so bad. She gave a little pout and then thought better of it. "I'll just have to pretend. You stay here Maggie, I'll be right back"

By now, Emily had just about every light on in the house, so she didn't have to fear the hallway. She retrieved a book from her room and padded back to her mom's.

Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, she flipped through the book until she found just the right page.

"See here, Maggie. This house on the beach. That's my house. Well, it's not my house yet, but it's Daddy's house and someday I'm going to be there with him. And see those two people. That's Mommy and Daddy. Daddy's very glad Mommy's there with him now. Someday I'm going to be there and we're going to build sandcastles and go fishing and….."

It was with these thoughts that Emily drifted off to sleep.