by Gray, Meg
“Okay,” Marcus said as he folded his hands, curious about her conditions.
“I won’t be able to leave the same day school gets out. I’m still under contract with the district through the next Monday and I would like a few days to regroup from the school year before taking off for the summer.”
Marcus nodded, “Very well, that will be no problem.”
“Okay,” she said, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. He wondered what she was relieved about, her request was reasonable and he felt bad he hadn’t considered her schedule a little more. A week off, especially that first week when his parents would still be around, would be easy enough to accommodate.
“Okay,” she said again and pressed her hands onto her knees getting ready to stand.
“Is that everything?” Marcus asked, standing with her.
“Yes, as long as it is okay that I don’t start until a few days later then I think it will be fine.” She pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder. The phone line buzzed and Gretta interrupted them.
“Your conference call is waiting Mr. Lewis,” she said through the line.
“Tell him I’m still in a meeting and I will be right with him,” Marcus instructed her. The light on his phone vanished.
“I should get going,” Emma said, turning for the door.
“Okay.” Marcus came around from behind his desk. “Thanks for stopping by. I’ll get a new contract typed up and drop it off for you on Monday.”
She turned, repositioning the strap on her shoulder. “I won’t be there on Monday. I’m using up the last of my personal days to go away for an extended weekend. I told the kids today, so they know to expect a sub. You might want to remind Brayden, just so there are no surprises for him.”
“Thanks, I’ll do that.” He leaned against the front of his desk, crossing one foot over the other at the ankle. “Have a great weekend. I hope you’re going somewhere fun.” He was prolonging her departure by making small talk, but the relief that she would be joining him in Seattle had boosted his mood. So much so that he wanted to keep talking with her and completely blow off the call that waited for him. “That would explain the new bag then, I thought maybe your little artists were lavishing you with more great works of art that required a larger means of transport.”
“No, I’ve started recycling those on Fridays.” She held her finger to her lips, like he might spill her secret to her class and then glanced at the bag on her shoulder. “This is something I probably shouldn’t have splurged on, but my friend insisted it would be great for our trip this weekend.” She shrugged, “Oh that reminds me, I realize you probably made a mistake or something when you filled out the wage. I wrote in a range that would work for me. Whatever you pick within it will be fine.”
“I’ll take a look at it.” Marcus smiled. He was sure he had carefully typed in what he thought was a fair wage, but he could have made an error.
The phone on his desk buzzed again, but he ignored it.
“I’ll be going,” Emma said. He held up a finger, signaling for her to wait a moment. He wasn’t ready for her to leave yet, even though they seemed to have covered all of her concerns. He pressed the intercom button on his phone.
“Yes, Gretta?”
“Your conference call is still waiting,” she reminded him.
“I know. Tell him I’m still in a meeting working out a few details for the Barclay deal.” He pressed the button on his phone again and turned back to Emma.
“Sorry.” He smiled and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I really should be going anyway. I’m meeting my friend down in her office in a couple of minutes. We’re leaving for the coast as soon as she’s out of a meeting.”
“Oh,” Marcus said. “So you have a friend who works here in the building?” he asked, playing dumb.
“Yes, my friend Stacy works in the real estate office on the twelfth floor. We’re headed out of town for a girls’ weekend at her parent’s beach house in Seaside.”
“Sounds relaxing.”
She chuckled, “Probably not. Stacy’s a bit of a mover and a shaker. I’m sure she’s got the whole weekend planned, but it will still be nice to get away for a while.” She didn’t move and he didn’t want her to. He enjoyed being with her, but he also knew he couldn’t keep his father waiting much longer. He stood and walked her to the door slowly turning the knob.
“Have a great time,” he said.
“See you next week and remember there’s no school tomorrow.”
“I remember,” he said. “I check Brayden’s backpack every night now.” He smiled humbly at her. Ever since she’d called him on his disconnect to Brayden’s schooling he’d worked hard to remember to open and clear out Brayden’s backpack, looking for notes and reminders.
“Right,” she said as she passed inches from him. A faint smell of something sweet drifted in the air when she passed. He took a step to follow her and when she turned back, they found themselves nearly colliding. Emma quickly stepped back, but he could see the color rise in her cheeks. She met his eyes for a moment and then looked down, taking another step back.
“One more thing,” she said. “Can we not tell Brayden about me going to Seattle with you until school is out? I don’t want the other kids or families to catch wind of it. It could be a little awkward.”
“Certainly,” Marcus agreed with her.
“Okay, well, thanks for seeing me,” she said and then turned and walked quickly down the hall.
Chapter Twenty-five
Brayden was in the backseat lost in his video game. They had just left the therapist’s office where Brayden had his first session. Marcus went in for the initial intake last week, escaping the office behind his father’s back. The psychologist, a forty-something woman with a pleasant face and short curly brown hair called herself Miss Linda. Dave had faxed Brayden’s file to her, but Marcus still had to answer the same slew of questions he’d been asked before. Miss Linda scrawled out notes of her own, pressing her lips together and nodding as Marcus recounted the day of the fire and all the days that followed.
Today, Brayden went with Miss Linda into a room where Marcus could observe from behind a one-way mirror. Brayden sat motionless at the circular table with his arms crossed and was unresponsive to Miss Linda. After about fifteen minutes of the stalemate, Miss Linda moved around the room. She pulled a box of blocks, a box of books and a box of cars from a shelf and set them on the table. Marcus was about to give up hope on this whole therapy idea when Brayden reached for the blocks and began to build a tower. When Miss Linda spoke to him, he ignored her, but kept building until the appointment was over. Marcus met them at the door and Miss Linda told him she’d schedule Brayden for her Tuesday group. It met once a week for forty-five minutes and then handed him a schedule with all the dates marked for the summer.
Marcus glanced in the backseat wondering again if any of this therapy would do any good. He wanted to ask Brayden so badly about his session. Why had he just sat there for so long? What was Miss Linda saying to him? Once again, he let the silence win.
By the time, they turned off the interstate he wasn’t thinking about the therapy session anymore and was ready to break the silence within the car.
“There’s going to be someone staying with you during the day this summer while I’m at work. She’ll be at the house when we get there,” Marcus said and saw his son lift his eyes from the video game through the rearview mirror. Brayden didn’t look excited and rolled his eyes before concentrating again on the game in front of him.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yeah,” Brayden said with little enthusiasm.
“So, remember to be on your best behavior when we meet her. We don’t want to scare this one off. She’s the best there is. I got her on a great recommendation. I really think you’ll like her.” Marcus smiled. He was anxious about surprising Brayden and seeing Emma. He hoped she’d settled into her room and wondered if she noticed the red roses he’d asked Ma
ricella to put out for her.
Marcus parked in the circular driveway, leaving the keys in the ignition. He’d be heading into the office right after lunch. The drone of a lawn mower sounded from behind the house as Marcus and Brayden walked to the house.
“Why can’t you stay with me?” Brayden whined as they stepped inside.
“Because I have work to do at the office.”
“But you could work here and I’ll be real good and quiet, I promise.” Marcus felt torn inside. He knew Brayden hated it here in Seattle. He’d spent last week under the scrutinizing eyes of his grandmother. They’d both felt under fire for seven days, but his parents were gone now, off on their European tour.
“I wish I could, Bray, but there are some things I can’t do from here and I need to go into the office.”
Maricella was in the dining room, setting the silverware at the table. She didn’t look up when they walked in.
“Maricella, did our guest arrive?” Marcus asked. Still wrapped in her task she merely nodded in reply.
“And will she be joining us for lunch?” Again, he was answered with a nod as she set the last place. Smoothing the front of her house apron, she looked the table over one more time before heading to the kitchen.
He and Brayden took their seats at the antique cherry wood table. In the absence of his father, Marcus sat at the head of the table with Brayden on his left. The sound of soft footsteps came from the doorway and Marcus felt his breath catch when Emma walked in wearing a short soft pink dress.
Brayden’s head snapped up and his eyes bulged in recognition of his beloved teacher. He turned his eyes back to his father and then to Ms. Hewitt and back again as if he was watching a table tennis match.
“Brayden,” Marcus said. “Ms. Hewitt has agreed to stay with us this summer and will be working with you while I’m at the office.”
Brayden jumped from his seat and ran to Emma. “Ms. Hewitt are you? Are you really staying with us this summer?” Brayden wrapped his arms around her waist in a strong embrace and she looked like she might fall over from the force.
“Yes, Brayden I am.” She gently pulled his arms loose and stooped down for a more proper hug. He grabbed her hand and brought her around to his side of the table. Marcus stood in greeting, but before he could say anything, Brayden was asking her to sit next to him.
Maricella’s eyes jumped to Marcus. He nodded at the housekeeper who moved quickly to pull the place setting from the other side of the table and set it next to Brayden’s. They all took their seats and Marcus nodded again to Maricella who disappeared into the kitchen.
“Hello Ms. Hewitt,” he said and smiled at her. “How was your flight?”
“It was just fine,” she said, shifting in her chair. “Thank you for asking.”
“Did Maricella show you your room?”
“Yes, she did, thank you.”
“I hope you will be comfortable there. Please let us know if there is anything else you will be requiring while you are here.” Did he just say requiring as if he was a concierge at some hotel addressing a stranger? He was about to rephrase when Maricella pushed through the swinging door balancing three white plates.
“I do need to iron some of my clothes,” Emma said, leaning forward to peer around Brayden. “Is there an iron I could use?”
Maricella set Marcus’s plate in front of him, then Brayden’s and finally Emma’s.
“Anything you need ironed you can leave out for Maricella and she’ll take care of it for you,” he said and flipped his napkin onto his lap. The turkey and pesto croissant sandwiches, the scoop of potato salad and fresh sliced fruit were flawlessly placed on each plate and he picked up his fork ready to break into the potatoes.
“Oh, no I can iron my own clothes. I just need an iron,” Emma insisted.
“It’s Maricella’s job. She does all the ironing around here.” Shit. That just came out wrong too, now he sounded like he was patronizing her, like she wasn’t capable of ironing.
Emma stared at her plate, biting her lower lip. He was sure he must have offended her. Here he’d been so excited to see Emma and now he was making a pompous fool of himself.
He dropped his fork on his plate, “I’m sorry,” he said. “What I meant was the ironing station is out in Maricella’s quarters. She does most of her ironing in the morning when you will likely be working with Brayden, but if you two would like to make arrangements for you to use the iron at another time then please feel free.”
Emma looked at the housekeeper, standing her position outside the kitchen door. Maricella wouldn’t look at Emma.
“I’ll leave my clothes out in the morning Maricella. Thank you.” Emma’s voice was soft but genuine and Maricella barely nodded in response.
Brayden happily chewed away at his lunch still reveling in the arrival of his teacher. The rest of lunch passed quickly and Marcus scarcely made conversation afraid he’d trample all over his words again.
The grandfather clock chimed from the corner behind him, alerting him to the passage of time. It was already noon and he needed to get to the office. Setting his silverware across his plate, Maricella stepped in and removed it from the table.
“I’ll be at the office this afternoon. Maricella has the number if you need anything, but you still have my cell phone number don’t you?” he asked Emma.
“Yes, I do,” she said, then sipped her water.
“Very well, I’ll be going. Brayden knows the downstairs is off limits to him as well as the boathouse and Maricella and Guillermo’s home. The rest of the rules around here are pretty standard and he can fill you in.” Marcus looked at his son who nodded. “Do you think you’ll be okay here with Ms. Hewitt?”
Brayden turned to his teacher and grinned, adding a fervent nod.
There was no doubt in Marcus’s mind that his son would be more than content for the rest of the afternoon. And for the first time ever when Marcus walked out the door to go to work, leaving his son behind, he too felt content. He’d gotten lucky, very lucky, that Ms. Hewitt had agreed to join them for the summer.
* * *
Emma basked in the warmth of morning sunlight that flooded in from the patio’s French doors. It was Saturday, her day off, and she contemplated what to do on her own as she bathed in the luminous rays.
Maybe she would catch up with her family and friends, but then again that really wasn’t very appealing. Talking with Stacy was like talking to a three year old. She had the attention span of a gnat and talked about only two things. Marcus and sex. Ever since she learned, Emma was going to be working for the “hottie-single-dad” who rescued her back in November she was relentless.
“I told you,” she’d said. “I knew you had a thing for this guy and now you’re running off to spend the entire summer with him in Seattle.”
Emma didn’t waste her breath trying to tell Stacy she was going to Seattle for the job and not Marcus. When Emma failed to provide any tantalizing details about Marcus, Stacy would jump topics, giving reports about who she was having sex with and how good or bad it was. That was hardly what Emma was in the mood for today.
Emma pulled open the patio doors and breathed in the fresh scent of the outdoors. Stepping from her warm carpeted suite to the smooth, cool stones of her private patio, she looked out at the rose garden. A new batch of red, yellow, pink and white blossoms greeted her each morning.
She thought about calling her sister as she let her gaze travel to the sparkling waters of Lake Washington, but quickly changed her mind. When Emma last spoke to Audrey, she told her about the job in Seattle. Audrey’s reaction was not what she’d expected.
“Really?” her sister said, jumping all over her two days before she left. “But I thought you were going to spend time with us. The girls are looking forward to picnics in the park and shopping trips with their Auntie Em. I could use you to babysit some days. I said I’d pay you Emma.”
“I know,” Emma replied, feeling guilty she wouldn’t be fulfilling the pla
ns Audrey had for the summer, but Emma didn’t have a choice. She needed this job and the extra money. “And I’ll miss you guys, but this is a great opportunity for me. I’ll be back before you know it and we’ll still have a couple weeks in August before school starts again.”
“Yeah, sure,” Audrey had responded flatly and then there was crying in the background. “Gotta go,” Audrey said before hanging up. Emma hadn’t talked to her sister since.
She called her parents the day she arrived in Seattle. They’d talked about the weather and upcoming peach harvest, but thinking of home still brought the empty feeling of homesickness.
She always enjoyed talking to Seth, but he was visiting Kelly this weekend and Emma decided not to bother him either. He was scheduled for a project in the Seattle area in August and Emma was counting the days until she would see him.
A boat sailed by out on the lake, viciously bobbing across the choppy waters. Guillermo came around the corner of the house carrying a bucket and pruning shears. Emma waved to the gardener/driver she had befriended this week when he drove her and Brayden into the city for the therapy appointment. Guillermo was the only one who came around to this side of the house to tend the roses and landscape—meaning this little slice of paradise was all her own.
Her basement level suite was a private oasis. The space was easily the size of her apartment in Portland. Once she descended the stairs in the evening she was all alone, completely unaware of the goings on of Brayden and Marcus above her.
While she appreciated the privacy of her suite, it also made her feel very lonely. The days were full of activity as she worked with Brayden and played basketball and tennis outside on the court, but the nights were uneventful and kind of boring.
So, what was she going to do with a whole day to herself? While she struggled with that question, she decided to spend at least some time outside. The day was shaping up to be gorgeous. She closed the patio doors behind her as she stepped back inside.
In the shower, Emma let the water wash away her loneliness. When she went upstairs, and found Marcus and Brayden already eating breakfast in the dining room. Maricella disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a pile of stuffed French toast, fresh strawberries and a cup of coffee for Emma, already doctored with cream and sugar.