by Lara Hunter
Tracey smiled, smoothing the wispy blond hair back from Charlie's forehead, and bent down to kiss him.
"I don't hate my work," she said. "My work is important so I can take care of you. My boss is nice, and I like the people I work with. It doesn't make me angry."
"Even though you want to do something else?" Charlie asked, like he was suspicious.
"Even though I want to do something else," Tracey said. "We can't always have everything we want. Sometimes we have to pick the things that are most important to us and focus on them. So we learn to be okay with things that maybe aren't exactly what we wanted, but aren't bad either. You're what is most important to me, so as long as I can take care of you, I don't mind that my job isn't the one I really want. Does that make sense?"
"Not really," Charlie said, shrugging.
"Maybe it will when you're older." Tracey tucked the blankets in around him and stood up to turn off the light.
"Dad was angry," Charlie said quietly. Tracey paused with her hand on the light switch. "But I don't think it was because of work."
"Dad's gone," Tracey said softly. "We don't have to worry about that anymore. Good night, Charlie."
"Good night, Mom."
Tracey turned the light off, looking back briefly at her son, who was dimly illuminated by the blue glow of the nightlight. Her love for him ached keenly in her chest. With a last glance, she left him to sleep. She didn't plan to stay up much longer than him, but she had work to do first.
Tracey put together a grocery list and paid bills on her battered old laptop. Derek had pawned the ancient machine twice while they'd been married, but Tracey had always managed to get it back. It was a more constant and reliable companion than almost anyone else in her life, honestly.
She frowned at the open Excel document in front of her as she shifted her budget around, trying to find enough money to pay the electric bill and still afford food. It was going to be a hard month, she realized, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she resisted the headache building there. Things would only get harder in the fall when she had to purchase school supplies and new clothes for Charlie. Maybe she needed to get a second job. But then she'd have to pay someone to watch him at night. She already only saw him a couple hours out of the day...
Eventually she gave up and went to bed, glad she was too exhausted to lay awake worrying for long.
The weekend went by in a flash, catching up with housework and running errands while trying to spend some time with Charlie, as she only really got to on the weekend. All of this ran contrary to her overwhelming desire to lie in bed and do precisely nothing for two days straight.
One of the reasons she'd looked for a job in housekeeping was that as long as you weren't working for a hotel, weekends off were pretty standard, as the owners of the houses they cleaned tended to want their homes to themselves those days. Having a regular day off to spend with Charlie was one of the things Tracey couldn't compromise on. Even if all they could do was play a board game and watch TV, she knew the time together was critical. If she didn't make time to be with him now, things would only get harder in the future.
By the end of the weekend, after getting so much done, she felt even more tired than she had on Friday night. But the fuzzy warmth of her conversation with the Sheikh, plus the time spent with Charlie, lingered and lifted her up. She'd always wondered how her mother had managed to do so much and work so hard. She imagined this must have been it—just getting by on the little joys.
FOUR
Tracey went back to work the next week with renewed vigor, throwing herself into it, eager to prove to Sheikh Adil that he'd made the right decision. She found herself looking forward to the brief moments she encountered him in the house. Though they rarely exchanged more than a glance and a smile, their conversation hung between them, an invisible connection that made even his briefest, most in-passing smile feel meaningful.
"You know he's out of the country today, right?"
Tracey looked up, startled, at Iris. It was about one in the afternoon and Tracey was dusting in the front hall.
"Who?" she asked, wide-eyed.
Iris, leaning against the doorway to the living room, looked unconvinced by Tracey's apparent confusion.
"Sheikh Adil," she said. "He flew out early this morning. A business meeting on the East Coast. He won't be back until tomorrow, so you can stop waiting on him."
"I'm just dusting," Tracey said defensively, her face red.
"You've been 'just dusting' that end table for the last five minutes," Iris said. "I know because I stood here and watched you, and you were too busy watching the door and sighing like Scarlett O'Hara to even notice."
Tracey's blush reached peak tomato level, and she turned her back to Iris to hide it, busily straightening the table and moving on.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, heading for the stairs. "I need to...polish some fixtures."
"You need to get your head out of the clouds," Iris said, following her. "Having a crush on the guy is one thing—who wouldn't? He's gorgeous and stupid rich. But this business is something else. He's not interested in you, girl."
"I know!" Tracey turned on the stairs to find Iris right behind her. "I know, okay? And I'm, like, six years older than you. Don't treat me like a lovesick schoolgirl. I'm not delusional. I know it won't go anywhere. Just let me fantasize a little."
"Fantasize away." Iris threw her hands in the air and backed off, going back to her own work. "But if you end up losing your job because you're too busy flirting, don't blame me."
"Thank you for your concern, Iris," Tracey huffed, and, though she was annoyed, she meant it. Iris was right; she was letting this crush get out of hand. She needed to focus on her work. That was the only way she was ever going to get herself and Charlie into a better situation. It wouldn’t happen by indulging in fairy tales.
***
"I'm sorry, Tracey. I know this is last minute."
Tracey, holding Charlie in her arms, stepped out of Detta's way as the woman rushed past, hurrying back and forth to get ready.
"It's fine," she assured the other woman, though her dismay was obvious. "It's your first grandchild! That's more important."
"It's just like a grandbaby of mine to show up a month early," Detta puffed, rushing past again with a bag. "I told Theresa not to move so far away! That girl never listens."
"I'm sure everything will be fine," Tracey said. "I'll figure something out for today."
"I should be back by Monday," Detta said, hugging the both of them warmly. "I'll see you then. And I'll be bringing pictures, so be ready!"
Tracey laughed and waved good-bye as Detta rushed to her car with the last of her things and took off. Tracey watched her go, at a loss despite her reassurances to the other woman.
"What now?" Charlie asked. Tracey looked down at her watch and cursed.
"Now, I guess you're coming to work with me for the day," she said. "You want to see a mansion?"
"Yeah!"
***
At the Sheikh's manor, Charlie was suitably awed by the opulent setting, and it was only after repeated assurances that he accepted there were no princesses or cartoon mice in residence. He was much less enthusiastic about Tracey's insistence that he couldn't explore or play with any of the antiques.
"All right, now what are the rules?" Tracey knelt in front of Charlie, looking him in the eye to make sure he was focused on her.
"No touching anything, stay in the room, and no being loud," Charlie recited, bored.
"Why?" Tracey prompted, wanting to be certain he understood.
"Because it’s not my stuff and you'll get in bad trouble if someone sees me," Charlie said, leaning away from her in his eagerness to go play, or at least to stop talking about rules he didn't like.
"You understand why we have those rules, right, Charlie?" she asked. "I won't just get in trouble. I'll lose my job."
"Can I at least play in the pool?" Charlie begged.
Tracey sighed, figuring she'd convinced him as much as she was going to, and considered it, biting her lip. The Sheikh wasn't supposed to get back until tonight, if he came back today at all.
"Maybe," she said. "If you're very good. Now come on, I've gotta get to work."
She set Charlie up in one of the third-floor guest rooms with a TV, toys, and snacks, and got to work.
"Did I see you sneaking in the munchkin this morning?" Iris asked as they hauled a pile of sheets down to the basement laundry room.
"My babysitter's daughter went into labor," Tracey said. "In Georgia. I didn't have any other options."
"You better not let Lorraine see him," Iris said, shaking her head. "You know that's how Yvette ended up working at the nursing home, right? Lorraine is merciless about that kind of thing."
Tracey sighed. "I know. It's just for today. You won't tell, right?"
"Of course not," Iris said. "You didn't tell that night before midterms when I brought my books and holed up in the pantry to study. I owe you at least that much. Us sisters have to look out for each other."
Tracey, relieved, hugged the other woman briefly before they continued with the laundry.
Tracey headed back upstairs once the laundry was started, anxious to check on Charlie. She opened the guest room door, rubbing her already tired eyes.
"Okay, buddy, how do you feel about lunch—"
She froze in place when she realized the room was empty. Toys were scattered across the carpet and the TV was still playing cartoons, but there was no sign of Charlie.
"Charlie?" she called, getting worried. When there was no answer, she checked the closet and the bathroom quickly. "Charlie? Not funny. Come out now."
Only silence answered her. Tracey swallowed the anxious lump growing in her throat and hurried back out into the hall, checking the other rooms. This had been such a bad idea. What had she been thinking, bringing him here? She was on thin enough ice as it was. She couldn't lose this job!
"Charlie?" she called, anxiety escalating to fear as she finished checking all the rooms in the hall and realized he wasn't there. Remembering his interest in the swimming pool, she raced to the balcony, her heart hammering, and leaned over to look down at the pool.
"Oh, thank God," she whispered, seeing Charlie running near the edge of the water. She rushed downstairs at once, already planning the lecture she was going to give him for disobeying the rules. As she approached the doors to the pool area, she heard him laughing; then she froze when she heard a second voice, familiar and adult. She hurried through the doors, feeling like a tremendous fist was squeezing her heart.
Sheikh Adil stood near the pool, still wearing the traditional white dishdasha robe and headscarf he conducted business in. He generally dressed more casually at home. He must have only just gotten back from his trip. As Tracey watched, Charlie ran into the man's arms. The Sheikh lifted him, laughing.
"Are you ready?" he asked, and when Charlie nodded, Adil threw him, shrieking with laughter, into the deep end of the pool. Charlie bobbed to the surface on a new pair of water wings, sputtering and laughing until he saw Tracey standing in the door.
"Uh oh."
Sheikh Adil turned to see what he was looking at, and his handsome face lit up as he set eyes on Tracey.
"There you are!" he said warmly. "I believe I found something of yours."
"I'm so sorry, Sheikh Adil," Tracey said at once, red-faced with humiliation. "My babysitter had a personal emergency. It'll never happen again. I told him to stay put—"
"Please, Miss Anderson." Adil held up his hands to stop the torrent of apologies. "There is nothing to apologize for. Charlie is delightful. We have been having a wonderful time."
"You're really not upset?" Tracey asked, baffled once again by Adil's kindness.
"Not at all," he assured her. "On the contrary, he has vastly improved an otherwise very disappointing day."
"He is good at that," Tracey said with an embarrassed laugh.
"Mom, Mom, Mom!"
Before she could say any more, Charlie ran to greet her, colliding with her at full speed, the rubber of his water wings squeaking as he wrapped her in a wet hug.
"You told me there weren't any princes here, but Mr. Sheikh is a prince just like from the movie with the genie!" Charlie shouted, talking at high speed and hardly pausing for breath. "He's so cool and he got me these and he let me use his pool and he said he's gonna show me his airplanes!"
"I thought you promised to stay in the room upstairs while I worked?" Tracey said, frowning down at her son, who looked away, his excitement faltering as he realized he was in trouble. "I gave you those rules for a reason. Did you not understand them?"
"I was only gonna come out for a second!" Charlie protested. "I wanted to ask you if we could get chicken nuggets for lunch."
"He was not far from the room you left him in when I found him," Adil said, looking a little guilty. "I was on my way to change clothes when I saw him. I thought I would take him to find you, but we were distracted by the pool."
"Still," Tracey said, remaining stern as she looked down at Charlie. "You shouldn't have broken the rules. You could have gotten me in a lot of trouble. And you should know better than following men you don't know!"
"But he's a prince—"
"Not even princes, Charlie!" Tracey scolded. "It isn't safe! I can't watch you all the time. I have to be able to trust you to follow the rules."
"If I may," Sheikh Adil said, interrupting. "I may have a solution for the problem."
Tracey paused to look at him in surprise, and he smiled kindly.
"Perhaps I could look after him while you work?" he said. "You know he's with me now, so he'd be safe and you wouldn't have to worry about getting into trouble."
"I couldn't ask you to do that," Tracey said at once, flushed with embarrassment. "You just got back from your trip. You're probably exhausted. You shouldn't have to babysit a stranger's kid right now."
"It's no trouble," Adil said, reassuring her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Truly, I would be happy to keep him busy for a few hours. I have no other plans."
"But still." Tracey shook her head, overwhelmed. "It's too much to ask. I work for you. I can't—"
"Please," Adil said gently, his hand moving from her shoulder to her elbow, his touch the barest graze of warmth. "I told you it's important to me to see a single mother succeed. Whatever I can do to enable that, I will."
Tracey, still unsure but too dazzled by his sincerity to refuse, gave in.
"All right," she said. She looked down at Charlie. "But stay where I can find you. You mentioned an airplane?"
"Models," Adil said. "Gifts, from my business partners. They're in my office, this way."
He took Charlie's hand, and Charlie followed him eagerly, just glad he wasn't in trouble. Tracey followed and watched them for a bit, being cautious. Charlie loved the model planes, and Adil was surprisingly good with him, patient and attentive. He listened and explained things as though communicating with children were second nature to him.
Tracey got back to work after a time, though she stayed close, keeping an eye on both of them. But after an hour it became clear that Charlie was safe. Adil was really just that good with him. Tracey, feeling as blessed as she was confused by her luck, returned to focusing on her work, wanting to get it done as quickly as she could before Adil got tired of entertaining a six-year-old.
Around three, she checked in to see Charlie asleep on the floor among his toys. It was past his usual nap time, which it seemed he still needed despite his frequent insistence otherwise. She picked him up without waking him, contemplating where to put him while he dozed. As she was considering her options, the Sheikh appeared in the door. He was no longer wearing the long white robe, but a simple loose shirt and pants. He smiled when he saw her.
"Sorry," he whispered. "I saw he was asleep, so I took a moment to go and change. I would have moved him, but I was afraid of waking him."
"I
t's fine," Tracey whispered back, smiling. "He sleeps like a rock. Is there somewhere I could...?"
He nodded and led her toward a little sitting room with a comfortable sofa. She settled Charlie on it while the Sheikh retrieved a blanket. Then they both retreated, leaving Charlie to sleep.
"Thank you again for looking after him today," she said softly as she closed the door. "I can't thank you enough for all you've done for us."
"Spending a few hours talking about planes and watching cartoons is hardly a hardship, Miss Anderson," Adil said, raising an eyebrow. "Not going out of my way to fire you for an honest and inconsequential mistake was not a hardship either. Has anyone ever told you that you are too hard on yourself?"