Page 51 of One Night in Alaska
“Such a pretty name,” Georgia said with a smile. “I’m Georgia, and this is Beau. Do you know where you last saw your mother?”
Emilia seemed a bit confused at first, like she wasn’t exactly sure of the question, but then she shook her head. “Store,” she said. “But I don’t know which.”
“Right,” Georgia said. “Well, we can walk around and see if we can find her. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” Emilia told her. Georgia offered her hand, and she slipped her little fingers into her palm.
“Why don’t I go get Emilia some gelato while you help her find her mother?” I offered. I knew she was upset and scared, and I wanted to do something to make her feel better. “Emilia, would you like that?”
“Yes,” she said with a hint of a smile. “Chocolate.”
Georgia laughed. “That’s my favorite, too. Come on, sweetie. We’ll find your mother.”
As Georgia led Emilia down the sidewalk, I hurried off to get the promised treat, hoping she found her mother quickly. I couldn’t imagine how it must feel to be lost from one’s parents, and I couldn’t imagine the terror her mother must be feeling if she realized her daughter was gone.
I did know what it was like to lose a child permanently, but I had no idea what it was like to be searching frantically for a missing child.
Going inside, I saw that the line was nonexistent, which was good because I wanted to be able to help look for Emilia’s mother. I grabbed her chocolate gelato, paid for it, and rushed back outside to see Georgia had made it about a block down the sidewalk, still holding Emilia’s hand, but no luck so far.
I rushed to catch up with them. “Here, Emilia,” I said, offering her the gelato. She took it with a grateful look and began to eat it as we continued on our way. Every shop we came to, we looked inside, but we didn’t see Emilia’s mother anywhere.
Finally, after about a half hour of looking, we saw a woman on the other side of the street, spinning in circles. “Emilia!” she was calling. “Wo bist du?”
“Mama!” Emilia saw her at the same time that we heard her cries.
The woman heard her daughter’s voice and spun around to face us. Immediately, she burst into tears of joy as her face lit up. “Emilia!”
The girl started to run across the street to get to her mother, but I took hold of her shoulder. “Hold on,” I instructed, making sure there was no traffic. When I saw the path was clear, I hurriedly walked forward with Emilia until there was a happy reunion on the sidewalk across from where we’d been standing a moment ago.
“Emilia!” Her mother scooped her up and kissed her cheek. “Ich hatte solche Angst,” she declared. She was so scared. I couldn’t blame her.
As the two of them embraced, tears streaming down their cheeks, Georgia and I stood back, smiling, so glad the story had had a happy ending.
Eventually, the mother realized she wasn’t alone. “Oh,danke!” she said, releasing Emilia so she could hug Georgia and then me. “Danke!”
“You’re welcome,” Georgia said, clearly understanding thank you when she heard it, no matter the language. “Glad to help.”
“You speak English?” the woman asked with a heavy Swiss accent. Georgia nodded. “I am so thankful for your help. Both of you. I was terrified. She ran out of the store, and I didn’t see where she went.”
“I didn’t know which way,” Emilia said with a shameful look on her face.
“It’s okay,” her mother said. “But next time, stay with Mama. I could never lose you.”
Emilia nodded and looked up at her mother. “I’m sorry.”
“I love you so much,” the mother said, bending to kiss her daughter’s cheek. Then, looking back at us, she said, “I’m so lucky my daughter found such a nice couple to help her. How can I repay you?”
“It was no trouble,” I assured her. “We were happy to help.”
“Emilia is delightful,” Georgia said with tears in her eyes. “I’m glad to have met her, but I’m so thankful she’s back with you.”
Once again, the mother was hugging us, and I thought Georgia was going to burst into tears, but she was able to hold it in. After another round of thank-yous, the mother took Emilia’s hand and led her away, both of them overjoyed to be back together.
We watched them go, Georgia’s arm wrapped through mine. Watching them, I couldn’t help but say, “I think having a little girl would be nice.”
Georgia turned and looked at me, arching an eyebrow. She nodded. “Yeah, me, too.”
I wanted to add, “Especially if she looked like you,” but I held back. Instead, I kissed her cheek. “Let’s go home.”