that she couldn’t drop off the girls, so I’d told her I’d drop them off this morning. I’d wanted to fire her right then and there, but Mason would have been pissed. It had taken all my energy not to.
“Sarah, Mary, let’s get going. You don’t want to be late for school.”
Mary and her cheery way hopped down each step until she reached the bottom. She dropped her bag, rushed toward me, and gave me her good-morning hug. These good-morning and good-night hugs from Mary never got old.
“Uncle Brad, that was the best weekend ever. Better than Great America, better than that cupcake tour I took with Uncle Mason.” She tilted her head, looking thoughtful, and then scrunched up her nose in the cutest way. “But definitely not better than Disney World with Daddy. Sorry, Uncle Brad.”
“It’s really hard to beat Mickey.” I rustled her hair and then nodded toward the kitchen. “Breakfast is ready. Go, peanut. You’ve gotta get going before you’re late to school.”
I peered up at the stairs, waiting for Sarah to appear. She’d been in a mood over the weekend. A much better mood than I was used to, but a mood, nonetheless. I hated that she was turning into a teenager—well, pre-teenager. Couldn’t we go back to the days when she was sweet and happy all the time?
Hormones were to blame for her transformation. I couldn’t deal with women’s mood swings on a day-to-day basis, but I’d have to deal with Sarah’s. There was no way to avoid it. Any other female and I would have left already.
“Sarah!”
We had fifteen minutes to go before I had to jet out of this house and off to drop them at school first before I went to work. Annie was supposed to take them today but had an errand to run. If Sarah didn’t get down here in the next two minutes, we’d be late. I shook my head. Then, I rushed up the stairs two at a time and knocked on her door. I waited a second and then knocked again.
“Sarah? Warning, I’m coming in.” I waited a little bit before I turned the doorknob and walked right in.
She was on her bed, clutching a pillow to her chest, her face wet with tears. My stomach sank and kept on going. Instantly, I rushed to her side but then stopped, unsure of what was the matter.
Crap. I didn’t do well with crying women, and Sarah was turning into one. Mary was easy. Practically anything I did to cheer her up would work. And it didn’t take much—ice cream, a good joke, candy, toys. But Sarah was more complicated.
“Sarah, what’s wrong?”
She had always been closer to Mason. We had a good relationship, but it was different. Sarah was an introverted kid. Where Mary was outgoing and rambunctious, just like me, Sarah was just like Mason. She internalized a lot.
“What’s wrong? Is it a boy? Do I have to get your dad’s guns out?” I joked, attempting to make her laugh. Though, in all seriousness, if it were a boy, I’d kick his ass. That would be an easy fix.
She continued to cry, and that unease turned to a squeezing in my chest. My go-to tactics that would normally work on Mary would not work on Sarah, but I’d have to at least try.
I approached with caution, treading slowly across her plush pink carpet. The pink was the only remnant leftover from childhood. Now, pictures of actors and bands that I didn’t really recognize were plastered all over her walls.
I sat at the edge of her bed as she cried into her pillow. She’d been crying about the stupidest things lately, but it didn’t break my heart any less. Times like these, I could remember her mother so clearly. She had been kind and beautiful, and Charles had been so in love. Becky had stepped nicely into the motherly role, but I was sure there was nothing like your own mother. Sarah had been old enough to still remember Natalie; she had formed an unbreakable bond with her biological mother. Mary had never met Natalie, but Sarah remembered her mother so vividly at times.
“Sarah …” My fingers touched the ends of her hair. “If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t beat up whoever made you cry.”
Her head popped up, and she swiped at her eyes with her forearm. “When does Uncle Mason get back?” Her voice was so sullen, so broken.
I understood their bond, but it gutted