10. Harper

When Cam dropped us off at Langfield Corp, a woman with curly red hair and a perma-grin met us at the door. “I’m Dylan,” she said, extending her hand to me. “We spoke on the phone.” Her smile grew almost impossibly wide when she crouched in front of my kids. “And I’m so excited to meet you both.”

Sam eyed her warily, tightening his hold on my hand, and Piper stared straight ahead without acknowledging her. This morning could go one of many ways. There was a good chance Piper would have a complete meltdown and refuse to stay. Although it didn’t happen as often as it had when she was younger, it was still a thing. The idea that she might take off running out the door, at any moment, into the road, made my stomach burn.

“I said we’d go through the turny door and then down a long hallway. Remember?” Kyle said to Piper.

She didn’t look at him, but she nodded and didn’t put up a fight.

I was still annoyed with him for bullying his way into coming with us, but he knew where to go and had explained it to Piper. He’d also given her a heads-up about the length of the car ride. And amazingly produced a book with a story about the first day at a new day care and read it with her on the way over. As annoyed as I was with him, I couldn’t deny that it made our morning go much more smoothly than it could have.

“Let’s do that, just like we talked about,” he said, turning toward the building.

“Sounds great,” Dylan chirped, taking off. “Sam,” she said over her shoulder, “I’ve heard so much about you from your friend.”

“Friend?” He scratched his head with his free hand, his bright red hair flopping into his eyes. His other hand was still firmly locked around mine.

“Yeah. Grey’s been talking about you all morning.”

His little brown eyes widened, and his hold on me loosened. “Grey’s here already?”

“Yes.” Dylan beamed. “You two are going to have so much fun. I heard you love finger painting. I swear the universe is looking out for you, because today is finger painting day.”

“Really?” He flashed a megawatt smile, though the expression quickly turned thoughtful as he peered up at Dylan. “What’s the you-no-vas?”

“It’s everything . The world. Outer space. The whole shebang.” Dylan shrugged. “And you’re a lucky kid, ‘’cause it’s looking out for you today.”

“Cool.” Sam released my hand completely and moved closer to Dylan as we continued our hike down a long hallway.

On my other side, Piper almost seemed calm. She was keeping pace with us, and though she was blinking rapidly, her hands were mostly relaxed at her sides. That changed quickly, though, when we turned a corner, and the classroom came into view. Instantly, she pulled her hands up and pinched her arms. If I wasn’t careful, she would hurt herself without meaning to. Especially with her nails as long as they were. Clipping them needed to happen soon, but that was another battle entirely.

The room was colorful and bright, and there were a good fifteen kids running around, along with three adults and even a baby. The place was pure chaos. There was no way she’d be okay with me leaving her here.

“Sorry about the madness. We don’t normally have more than eight kids, but since there is no school today, the older kids are here,” Dylan explained.

With a nod at her, I turned to my daughter. “Piper.” I kept my tone calm and avoided touching her. As much as I wanted to stop her from pinching her forearms, I had to be strategic.

“I have an idea,” Kyle said before I could gather my thoughts. He squatted next to her.

Instantly, she took a step away.

He ignored the move and instead dropped his backpack on the ground next to him and unzipped it. “I brought these noise-canceling headphones.” Yanking a pair of blue headphones out, he showed them to Piper. They were blue, with a Revs logo on each ear.

She blinked rapidly, but her hands froze their pinching motion.

With a brow arched, he eased them a little closer to her. “Thought maybe you could borrow them.”

“Don’t—” I said. If he put them on her, there was a good chance she’d lose it. Piper didn’t like having her shoulders, neck, ears, or hair touched.

To my relief, he just held them in his palm and made no other move.

Piper turned his way and carefully eyed the blue headphones.

“Mom, can I plays with Grey?” Sam tugged on my black dress pants, startling me.

“Come on,” Dylan said, taking his hand. “I’ll get you settled while Mom helps Piper.”

To my absolute shock, he happily followed her to the classroom and didn’t look back. The tension in my shoulders eased a fraction as I watched them disappear. At least he was happy.

Piper, however, stood stiff as a board, still blinking rapidly. Kyle hadn’t moved, so he was still squatted beside her, holding the headphones out patiently.

Finally, she tentatively stretched an arm out and took them. After a careful inspection, she put them over her ears. It only took a second before her entire body sagged.

Kyle tapped his ear, and Piper, understanding the silent request, stretched the headphones away from her head.

“There is a quiet area.” He pointed across the room to an area by the window with a single beanbag chair. A double-sided bookshelf sat three feet to its right, and just past that, there was a colorful rug with four more beanbags. “You can pick any of the beanbags to chill in while you get used to the place.”

She nodded, and with that, the two of them walked off, leaving me on my own. Piper chose the chair away from the others and settled into it.

“Everyone seems good,” Dylan said as she headed back my way. “We’ll call you if we need you. Get to work.”

“She might run away,” I blurted out, wringing my hands.

Dylan smiled patiently. “If she tries, we’re equipped to handle it.” She smiled patiently. “We’ve got security set up at both exits, and they are aware of the possibility.” She patted my arm. “I promise the universe wants this all to work out.”

I wasn’t sure I believed in that kind of thing, but I forced my body to relax and took one more peek at Sam, who was happily building a magnet tower with Grey. Then I sought out Piper, who was sitting in the beanbag chair with the blue headphones on. Kyle stood behind her, looking relaxed. It almost seemed too easy. But I wouldn’t complain. Plus, I didn’t have time to overthink the situation. I had to get to work. So I slipped out the front door and headed for work.

Boston Lights was thirty-five minutes from the Langfield Corp building, so even after the easy drop-off, I barely made it to my desk by eight thirty.

“You had quite a weekend?” Carolyn, our do-it-all assistant, popped into my office while I was getting settled.

“I guess.”

“You guess,” she scoffed, the sound full of excitement. “On Friday, you catch a foul ball and become Boston’s enemy number one, and then on Saturday, you hang out with the Revs. By Sunday, Kyle Bosco is calling you and the kids his friends and swearing that his comments on Friday were all in good fun.”

“Yeah. I’m hoping it all blows over.” Bostonians were as passionate as they come when it came to sports, but, thank God, they were great about moving on rather quickly. And with the Bolts’ season beginning and football and basketball in full swing, the Revs and all the drama associated with them would fade away for the next few months.

Carolyn dropped her head back and cackled. “Sure. Blow over. That’s why some British woman called first thing this morning with instructions to contact her if we have issues with reporters.”

My heart dropped. Issues with reporters?

“Don’t Worry,” Carolyn said, stepping closer. “We haven’t. But Mrs. Price requested an hour of your time at lunch.”

Frowning, I straightened a stack of papers on my desk. “Zara wants to have lunch with me?”

Carolyn smirked. “On a first name basis with the Price family, now, are we?”

I supposed the Price family seemed like a big deal. They were both gorgeous and famous. The kind of people who walked the red carpet at the Met Gala. But though I was on a first-name basis with Zara, it wasn’t because we were friends. “It’s not like that.”

The walkie on my desk beeped, and the tinny voice of the orderly working in the common area echoed around my office. “Ms. Sparrow hasn’t made it to breakfast.”

“Duty calls.” I stood and clicked my radio to my belt, popped in the earpiece, and pressed the button to reply. “I’ll check her room.”

“This conversation isn’t done,” Carolyn assured as I breezed past her.

With a roll of my eyes, I waved over my shoulder and headed out.

In no time, I was approaching Eleanor Sparrow’s room on the fifth floor.

“Ms. Sparrow.” I rapped on the door. When she didn’t answer, I pulled out my card and unlocked it. “Eleanor,” I called as I stepped into the tidy space.

“In here, dear,” she said from the bathroom.

I opened the door and peeked in tentatively. Inside, she was awkwardly sitting on the seat in her shower with a towel draped over her body.

“What happened?” I asked. I’d known the woman for years, since she had been friends with my late grandmother.

When I turned eighteen, my grandmother had moved from the apartment we, along with my mother, shared and into Boston Lights. In order to spend more time with her, and because I could use the money, I’d taken a job as an assistant in the office here.

After my mother passed away a year later, Boston Lights became more than just a job. I spent more time here than anywhere else, even through college. Over thirteen years, I worked my way from assistant to director. And even after my grandmother passed away two years ago, I didn’t want to leave.

Eleanor smiled. “Just a little dizzy, that’s all. Figured I’d best sit until it passed.”

“Why didn’t you hit your call button?” I glanced at her wrist, but the gray band was missing. Turning, I scanned the bathroom. “Where is it?”

“It’s in the bedroom.” Her tone was matter-of-fact.

“What?” The shower was one of the most dangerous places for the elderly. We always made it clear that they should wear the device at all times.

“I don’t put it on until after my shower in the morning.”

I blinked. “You shouldn’t take it off. You know it’s important to wear it at all times.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I could never sleep in that thing.” She waved me off. “And showering in it? Good lord, my wrist would chafe.”

I shook my head. Falling out of bed was almost as common as falling in the shower, and this woman wasn’t wearing her alert bracelet in either place.

“The rules?—”

“You and the rules.” She chuckled. “Always so uptight.”

Irritation prickled through me. She was the second person who’d said that in the last couple of days. “My job is to make sure that you’re safe and that everything runs smoothly.”

“Just like Lucy.” She shook her head. “Your grandmother worried herself into indigestion every day.”

As if on cue, my esophagus burned. I knew that feeling. I lived on Tums. And coffee.

With one hand holding her towel in place, she patted my arm with the other. “I don’t need a button. I have the good sense the lord gave me. And when I’m dizzy, I sit down.”

I sighed. “The button is to help. It’s there just in case. For situations like this one.”

“If we’re always thinking about the ‘just in case,’ we miss the good things in life,” Eleanor said. “Lucy would want you to enjoy life sometimes, you know.”

Shoulders slumping, I sighed. “I do.”

“When was the last time you did something other than work or take care of your kids?” She raised a gray brow. “I haven’t heard a single story from you about anything outside of parenting in years. Remember when you’d visit Lucy? You’d bring some newfangled coffee flavor to try and tell her about your week.”

Yes. I did remember. That was back when I was twenty-one and fun. Back when I had stories to tell. About the ridiculous guy I’d met at a bar. Or the trip to California with my friends. Friends I drifted from after having Piper. Friends I drifted even farther from after separating from Jace almost two years ago. Now my friends consisted mostly of coworkers. And I only saw them at work.

That sounded a bit pathetic now that I thought about it.

“I had a s’mores coffee today,” I admitted. “It’s the new one from Dunkin.”

Her lips turned up at the corners, and her eyes brightened. “The one with the marshmallow whipped cream?”

I nodded. “It’s amazing. I should bring you one this week.”

“I would like that.”

“Good.” I patted her arm. “How about you get dressed? Then I’ll take you down to the nurse to see about the dizziness.”

After we determined the cause—low blood sugar—and fed Eleanor, my day didn’t slow down. I dealt with a housekeeping issue and then argued with a food supplier about the rise in prices. The morning went by so quickly that I didn’t even have time to worry about the kids and how they were doing at Little Fingers.

“Knock, knock.”

At the sound of a soft voice in the doorway, I looked up from the paperwork I’d been sorting through. Zara, dressed professionally and looking flawless, was holding a brown bag and smiling.

“I hope I’m not interrupting, but the young woman out front said I could come in. I can come back later if you need. I’m on your schedule.” The Britishness of the word schedule had me smiling.

“Sure, come in.” I rushed to my feet.

“Sit,” she ordered, brow furrowed. “I brought lunch.”

Obediently, I dropped back into my seat. “Oh, you didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense.” She strode across the room and sat in the chair on the other side of my desk. “I wanted to,” she said. “If our boys are going to be friends, we need to get on too. Plus, I wanted to check in to see how you’re feeling about the social media stuff.”

How I was feeling? I supposed I didn’t have a lot of feelings about it. “No one is egging my door anymore, so that’s good, right?”

“I would hope so.” With a laugh, Zara passed me a container. “It’s a cobb salad. No dairy, no gluten, no dressing, no peppers. The lovely woman I spoke with when I called this morning said that would be acceptable.”

I winced. The order made me sound as uptight as both Eleanor and Kyle had claimed.

“I’m vegan, so if anyone understands a difficult food order, it’s me.” Zara pulled a second container from the bag and set it on the desk in front of her. “But back to the other thing. Have you had any issues since Saturday?”

I shook my head. “The Uber driver who picked me up from Langfield Corp and brought me to work this morning didn’t drive away when he saw who I was, so that’s progress.”

“I’m shooting for a higher bar here, darling.” She laughed. “What about on your socials? I don’t have your handles, so I haven’t tagged you, but that doesn’t mean people won’t find you.”

“I don’t have social media.” I shrugged. Growing up, our budget had been tight, so as a teenager, I didn’t have a cell phone or a home computer. When I started college, I was busy studying and working. Not only did I not have the time, but I also didn’t care to join the craze. And now, I had even less time. Dull was an apt way of describing me.

“Huh.” Zara shook her head, looking amused rather than bored or judgmental. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who didn’t have any social media.”

The trepidation that usually came when people commented on the topic swirled, though her kind expression lessened the severity.

“I don’t have time.”

“Makes sense. It’s such a bloody time suck. This morning, I fell down a rabbit hole and spent an hour watching giant waves.”

“Waves?”

“Yes.” She chuckled. “I kept watching videos of huge waves hitting all over the world.” She shrugged, the move causing the neckline of her gold sweater to slip off her shoulder. She yanked it up like the garment had personally offended her. “I think I’m entirely too bloody bored all the time.”

She pulled out her phone and turned it toward me. On the screen was a video of a wave hitting the coast of Portugal.

“See why I was desperate to have lunch with you? I’m going insane.”

I laughed. “I very much doubt that.”

“Oh, trust me. Boredom is the worst kind of torture. Asher thinks finding help for me will fix it. But honestly, why is Grey in day care? So I can go to the gym? Play tennis? Or that god-awful pickle ball game? I feel like I’m doing a whole lot of nothing. And how is that fulfilling?” Zara stabbed at her salad, and as she held up her fork, she eyed me sheepishly. “I’m sorry. You’re busy. The last thing you need is to listen to me whine.”

Maybe I was busier than she was, but the honest frustration and sadness in the statement called to me. The grass always seemed greener for the person who wasn’t cutting and watering it.

“Yes, I’m busy and exhausted, and some days, I swear my daughter is sucking the life out of me. But that doesn’t mean you can’t feel just as worn out. Or like your life is being sucked out of you too.”

With a warm smile, Zara nodded. From there, she went on chatting about her kids and life in Boston. Apparently, it was vastly different from LA, where she’d lived for ten years.

She was mid-sentence when my desk phone rang.

Carolyn’s name appeared on the screen, so with a grimace, I said, “Excuse me one second,” and picked up the receiver.

“Sorry to interrupt your lunch, but Kayla from Hope Speaks is on line one. She said it’s about a grant application for Piper. She tried your cell first, but you didn’t pick up.”

“Put her through.” I pulled the phone away from my mouth and said, “I’m sorry, but it’s about Piper.”

Zara waved me off and stabbed another bite of her salad. “Take your time.”

The phone clicked as Carolyn connected the call, and I greeted the person on the other end with a quick hello.

“Hi,” she said, her voice bubbly. “Is this Harper Wallace? I’m calling about your daughter’s grant application with Hope Speaks. I wanted to let you know that Piper was chosen for funding.”

“Oh.” All the air rushed from my lungs, leaving my chest aching. “That’s great.”

“Yes. She’s eligible for ABA and RDI immediately. And then we will work in sensory and equestrian therapies as we find what works best for her. We’ll compile a list of therapists this week, and ABA services will begin on Monday.”

Wow, that was fast. “What will I need to do?”

“Not much,” she chirped. “We’ll set up meetings with Piper so she can meet her therapist. Make sure she’s comfortable. Every professional we work with is thoroughly trained and vetted. You’ll have the opportunity to meet the therapist, but all we need from you is some paperwork.”

“That’s great.” And way too easy. These kinds of grants could be life-changing, sure, but I had been under the impression that though the organization would pay for services, I’d be the one doing the legwork to find therapists and schedule appointments. I’d applied to six or seven. I wasn’t even sure anymore. Maybe this one was different. I jotted the name Hope Speaks on a sticky note so I could google it later and refresh my memory.

“You have her listed as attending West Side Elementary.” She went on to list my address and her father’s. “So I’ll need information about childcare so we can schedule therapy for the hours after school. Or we can work with your parenting schedule and have it in your home.”

With a deep breath in, I explained her current day care situation, but warned her that it was temporary.

“We’ll worry about the change in your childcare situation later. For now, we’ll get the ball rolling. It shouldn’t be difficult. Langfield Corp is always great to work with. They even allow us access to their facilities for OT and things like that. So that makes it easy.”

“Oh, good.” I didn’t know what else to say. Because how the hell did she know that off the top of her head? Dylan hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort.

“I’ll email you the forms and additional information. We can chat again later.”

“Absolutely.”

Unease crept through me as I hung up the phone. I could be jaded, and despite my best efforts, I was feeling that way now. Even as I wondered what kind of person looked a gift horse in the mouth like this.

“Good news?” Zara asked.

With a nod, I explained the situation with Piper with probably far more detail than Zara wanted. Though she listened attentively.

“That’s amazing. Dylan is like magic. Everything about Little Fingers makes life easy.” She rested her elbows on the desk and leaned in closer. “I have a request,” she said. “This might seem crazy since we just met. But it’s my birthday next Friday. Hitting the big three-oh.” She rolled her bright blue eyes. “And Asher’s throwing a party. Karaoke at some bar. It’s more his thing than mine.” She waved a hand. “My friends in Boston are few and far between, so the guest list consists of most of the team and WAGs.”

“Wags?”

“Wives and girlfriends. They’re lovely, but most are childless, and I have almost nothing in common with them.” She sighed. “Would you come? Then I’d have someone to prattle on with.”

“Oh.” My heart thumped against my ribcage at the invitation. It had been a long time since I’d been invited to hang out like this. I wasn’t the kind of person others wanted to go out with anymore. And I’d normally turn down invitations like this since the kids were with me the vast majority of the time. When they weren’t, I was usually catching up on housework or sleep. But Sam and Grey had hit it off immediately, and I’d love to find a mom friend who wasn’t intimidated by Piper. Zara had spent time around her, and so far, she hadn’t been fazed. Maybe it was possible.

She sank back into her chair. Her smile remained, but it had gone brittle, forced. “If you think it’s too much, or you don’t want to?—”

“No,” I rushed out. “I’d love to come.”

She perked up in her chair, her eyes brightening.

“But I haven’t had the best luck with babysitters. My ex is supposed to have the kids that night, though. So as long as he doesn’t cancel, I can make it work.”

“Oh.” She clapped quietly, grinning. “I’m so happy you’re coming.”

That wasn’t anywhere near a guarantee, but I didn’t correct her.