Chapter 2 - Friday Was ComingSarah had known from the beginning that Friday would be difficult.
She simply had not expected it to matter this much.
On Tuesday morning, she arrived before seven.
The mansion was still quiet.
A pale sunrise stretched through the kitchen windows.
Sarah placed her bag beneath the pantry counter and tied on her white apron.
Mrs. Doyle, the housekeeper, entered carrying a tray.
“You’re early.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
Mrs. Doyle looked at her.
“Because you’re leaving?”
Sarah opened the refrigerator.
“Because I drink too much coffee.”
“Terrible lie.”
Sarah smiled.
Mrs. Doyle had worked for the Hayes family for almost twenty years.
She had a talent for noticing everything and discussing almost nothing.
Usually.
“Mr. Hayes called the agency last night,” Mrs. Doyle said.
Sarah stopped.
“I know.”
“He wants you to stay.”
“I know that too.”
“And?”
Sarah poured orange juice into two small glasses.
“I can’t.”
Mrs. Doyle folded her arms.
“You keep saying that like it explains something.”
“It explains enough.”
“No.”
Sarah looked up.
Mrs. Doyle’s expression was kind.
That made it worse.
Sarah lowered her voice.
“I was hired for three weeks.”
“So?”
“So I did the job.”
“You did more than the job.”
Sarah closed the refrigerator.
“That’s exactly the problem.”
Footsteps came from the hallway.
They ended the conversation.
Alexander entered.
He was already dressed for work.
Dark trousers.
White shirt.
No jacket.
He looked like he had slept less than Sarah.
“Morning,” she said.
“Morning.”
Mrs. Doyle immediately found a reason to disappear.
Alexander noticed.
Sarah noticed him noticing.
Neither commented.
He reached for coffee.
“You declined the extension.”
Sarah placed the breakfast tray on the counter.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I have another commitment.”
“The agency said you haven’t accepted the next placement yet.”
Sarah looked at him.
Alexander’s expression remained controlled.
But there was tension underneath it.
“You called them again?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a little aggressive.”
“I run a company.”
“I noticed.”
“I prefer complete information.”
“And I prefer boundaries.”
Alexander looked at her for several seconds.
Then he nodded.
“That’s fair.”
Sarah had expected resistance.
The immediate retreat surprised her.
“I apologize.”
She blinked.
“Okay.”
“However, I’m still asking.”
Sarah turned toward the tray.
“Please don’t.”
“Why?”
She exhaled.
“Because Henry and Lucy are getting attached.”
Alexander stared at her.
“That’s your reason for leaving?”
“Yes.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does to me.”
“You think disappearing after three weeks will be easier?”
Sarah’s jaw tightened.
“I’m not disappearing.”
“To them, you are.”
His words hit exactly where he intended.
Sarah turned.
“You don’t get to use them to pressure me.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Alexander lowered his voice.
“I’m telling you what I see.”
“And I’m telling you what I know.”
“What do you know?”
Sarah did not answer.
Alexander stepped closer.
“Sarah.”
“Dad?”
Both adults turned.
Henry stood at the kitchen doorway.
He wore blue pajamas and held the brown teddy bear under one arm.
Lucy stood beside him.
Neither looked sleepy anymore.
Henry looked at Sarah.
“You’re leaving?”
Sarah felt her stomach drop.
Alexander closed his eyes briefly.
“Henry.”
“You said Friday.”
Sarah walked toward him.
“Hey.”
Henry backed away.
“Why are you leaving?”
Lucy stared between them.
Sarah knelt.
“It’s not because of you.”
“That means yes.”
“Henry.”
“You said people shouldn’t lie to kids.”
Sarah remembered telling him that two days earlier.
She regretted nothing more.
“I’m not lying.”
“Then stay.”
Lucy’s lower lip trembled.
Alexander watched silently.
Sarah wanted him to intervene.
He did not.
Maybe he knew she had to answer.
Maybe he simply did not know how.
Sarah sat on the floor.
Henry stood three feet away.
“I care about both of you.”
“Then stay.”
“Sometimes caring about someone doesn’t mean you can stay forever.”
Henry’s face tightened.
“That’s stupid.”
Alexander started forward.
Sarah raised one hand slightly.
He stopped.
“Yes,” Sarah said.
“Sometimes it is.”
Henry looked confused by her agreement.
Sarah continued.
“But Friday isn’t today.”
Henry looked away.
“So you’re still leaving.”
“For now, that’s the plan.”
Lucy suddenly walked forward.
She wrapped both arms around Sarah’s neck.
Sarah froze.
Then she hugged her.
Henry watched.
His anger weakened.
Sarah felt Lucy whisper against her shoulder.
“Please change the plan.”
Sarah closed her eyes.
Across the room, Alexander looked away.
Breakfast was quieter than usual.
Sarah did not attempt jokes.
She did not force anyone to talk.
Afterward, Alexander left for the office.
Before getting into the car, he turned toward Sarah.
She stood near the front steps with the children.
“Can I speak with you tonight?”
Sarah nodded.
“Yes.”
His car disappeared down the drive.
Henry took Sarah’s hand.
“Are you in trouble?”
“No.”
“Dad only says that when somebody’s in trouble.”
Sarah smiled.
“Maybe your dad needs better conversation starters.”
That earned half a grin.
They spent the morning in the sunroom.
Lucy colored.
Henry built a tower from wooden blocks.
At eleven, the hospital coordinator called.
Their next evaluation had been moved to Thursday.
Sarah listened as Mrs. Doyle took the message.
Thursday.
The day before Sarah was supposed to leave.
She looked at the children.
Henry was concentrating on balancing a wooden bridge.
Lucy was drawing three stick figures beside a large square house.
Sarah glanced closer.
There were four figures.
A tall man.
Two children.
And a woman in a blue dress.
Sarah swallowed.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
Lucy pointed.
“Daddy.”
She pointed again.
“Henry.”
Then herself.
Then the woman.
“That’s you.”
Sarah stared at the drawing.
Lucy smiled.
“You live here now.”
Sarah could not answer.
That evening, Alexander returned early.
He found Sarah on the back terrace alone.
The children were upstairs resting.
He held two cups of coffee.
He gave one to her.
“I thought I was the one with the coffee problem.”
“I’ve adapted.”
Sarah smiled faintly.
Alexander leaned against the stone railing.
“Tell me the real reason.”
She looked toward the garden.
“I already did.”
“No.”
He waited.
“You told me why you think you should leave.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
Sarah said nothing.
Alexander continued.
“You care about them.”
“Yes.”
“You’re good with them.”
“I try.”
“They trust you.”
Sarah gripped the cup.
“Alexander.”
“It’s the first time you’ve used my first name.”
She gave him an irritated look.
“Don’t make this harder.”
His expression softened.
“Then help me understand.”
Sarah looked at him.
“My younger sister was sick when we were kids.”
Alexander became still.
Sarah rarely spoke about her family.
“I was sixteen.”
“She was eleven.”
“My parents had to keep working.”
“So I became the person who stayed with her.”
“I made games.”
“I made stupid songs.”
“I pretended everything was normal.”
Alexander listened.
“She got better,” Sarah said.
“For a while.”
His eyes changed.
“And then?”
Sarah looked down.
“She didn’t.”
Alexander said nothing.
“That was twelve years ago.”
“I thought I was past it.”
“Then I came here.”
She laughed quietly without humor.
“Henry even makes the same face she used to make when he thinks adults are being ridiculous.”
Alexander looked toward the upstairs windows.
“So you’re running.”
Sarah turned sharply.
“I’m protecting myself.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Yes.”
“Is there?”
Sarah’s eyes flashed.
“You don’t get to judge how I survived that.”
“I’m not judging you.”
“It sounds like it.”
Alexander placed his coffee on the railing.
“I’m asking you not to decide for my children what losing you would feel like.”
Sarah stared at him.
He continued.
“They’ve already lost enough normalcy.”
“I know.”
“You gave some of it back.”
“That doesn’t make me permanent.”
“No.”
Alexander paused.
“But leaving because you’re afraid to care too much doesn’t make you temporary either.”
Sarah looked away.
Upstairs, a small shape appeared behind the window.
Lucy.
She waved.
Sarah waved back.
Alexander watched her.
“Thursday is their next evaluation.”
“I heard.”
“They asked if you could come.”
Sarah’s eyes met his.
“I’m not family.”
Alexander’s answer came immediately.
“They don’t care.”
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Then Alexander picked up his coffee.
“I won’t ask again tonight.”
He started toward the door.
Sarah stopped him.
“Alexander.”
He turned.
“I’ll go Thursday.”
A small amount of tension left his face.
“Thank you.”
He disappeared inside.
Sarah remained on the terrace.
She looked toward Lucy’s window.
The little girl had gone.
But her drawing was still in Sarah’s mind.
Four figures.
One house.
May you like
A version of belonging Sarah had spent twelve years avoiding.
Friday suddenly felt much closer.
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