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“She’s taking it rough?”
“I’ve been here two hours,” Sal said. “I wasn’t sure if I should leave her alone but…”
“It’s okay,” Annie said. “I’m in for the night.”
“I know it’s not your responsibility. It’s just that she really likes you.”
“Where is she?”
Sal pointed upstairs.
She stopped by Ashley’s room. Ashley was sitting on her bed, reading a book, still wearing her dance leotard and tights. Kevin sat on the floor, focused intently on his Game Boy. Their overnight bags were packed and ready to go.
She knocked on the doorframe. “Hey, you guys. How are you doing?”
“Miss Oliver came and took Zach,” Ashley said. “Mom is sad.”
“Yeah,” Annie said. “It’s hard to lose someone you love.”
“But he wasn’t even our real brother,” Kevin said. It sounded cruel, but his lower lip quivered like he was about to cry.
“Love doesn’t care about stuff like that,” Annie said. “Anyway, your aunt is downstairs and ready to go. You guys ready?”
“Can we say goodbye to mom?” Kevin asked.
Who was she to deny these children access to their mother? “Of course.” She walked them down the hall, knocked lightly but persistently on Helen’s door, then called through the wood. “Kevin and Ashley want to say goodbye.”
It was all the warning Helen was going to get. Annie opened the door and ushered the kids inside.
The bedroom was lit only by the lamp on her nightstand. Helen was lying on top of her covers, still fully dressed. But when the children entered, she rolled over and smiled. Annie watched from the hallway. Helen’s face was swollen. Her makeup had been rubbed off. She hugged and kissed her children, promising to pick them up from school the next day. She told them that she loved them.
Annie remembered similar scenes from her own childhood—her mother weepy whenever her father was deployed somewhere far away for what seemed like a very long time. But she never let her sadness stand between her and her children, and Helen didn’t either.
Helen was a good mother, Annie decided. Better than Annie could ever be.
When the kids came back out into the hallway, Annie asked, “You need help with your bags?”
“We aren’t little babies,” Ashley said. “It’s just one night.”
“My mistake,” Annie conceded easily. She didn’t feel threatened by Ashley. The girl’s father had just up and left, a baby had come and gone, and a stranger was living in her garage. The girl had a lot going on, and Annie didn’t begrudge her a little hostility.
After the kids had gone, Annie stood in the kitchen, fretting. She didn’t know how to be a good friend. Had no idea how to go about comforting someone. Maybe Helen wanted to be left alone. How was Annie even supposed to know?
She picked up the phone to call home but hung up halfway through, deciding her mother’s advice wasn’t worth the explanation she’d require. Instead, she put on the kettle for tea, then went out to the garage to change into leggings with stirrups and a big sweatshirt.
Returning to the kitchen, she unwrapped several tea bags and poured hot water over them into Helen’s pretty white teapot. She was still trying to decide whether or not to carry it upstairs on a tray when she heard Helen come downstairs.
“That for me?”
“I thought we could share it, but if you want it all, I won’t fight you for it.”
Helen touched the belly of the pot with the pads of her fingers.
“I’m happy to share your tea.” They sat together at the kitchen table. The window was open slightly, letting in the first real hint of winter since she had moved to California—but the tea was hot, and they were both dressed warmly. Annie felt downright cozy.
“You want to talk about today?”
“No, thank you.”
