Chapter 11: Three Ring

 Emma was sure she had just nodded off when a sound jolted her awake. It was as if something was running into the door. She thought of the dog and groaned, rolling over. Dudley had to go out, like clockwork, at ridiculous times: 2 AM, 5:30 AM. But when Liv had opened the door to let him out before they turned in for the night he had refused, standing still beside her.

If it was Dudley, he could hold it.

But now that Emma was awake, she couldn't shake the horror that entered her mind at the thought of waking up and stepping in whatever he left behind.

“Fine,” she muttered, hearing the sound again. “I'm coming.” She groped for the bedside lamp and found her crutches after her eyes adjusted. It took a minute to get her balance and then she was on her way, the few steps to the door. She eased it open, standing aside, well aware of Dudley's lack of respect for her personal space or lack of balance.

“Help me, please...”

Emma blinked. “Harper?” she asked, incredulous.

There she was, dressed in sweatpants and a long sleeved knitted top. She wore her fleece blanket draped around her head and shoulders. She was shaking. Her eyes looked glassy. Emma wasn't even sure if she was fully awake.

“Are you okay?” Emma asked, dumbfounded.

“...gonna get me. ...gonna get in. I know it... I can't go back in there!”

Emma's heart sank, remembering the previous afternoon. Noah pounding on Harper's bedroom door, and threatening to break it down. No wonder she had been so upset at Emma taking him aside first. If he had scared her this badly, it had to feel awful that Emma had done that.

Harper was leaning heavily against her, and Emma had to brace herself to keep her balance. “Okay. It's gonna be okay. You can stay with me,” she said, making the decision in a moment. The way they were positioned, Emma could feel Harper's heart pounding in her chest. Emma couldn't, on good conscience send a terrified child back to bed if they were scared about what waited for them.

“You said come find you if I needed you...and I need you...” Harper insisted.

“I know. You did just right. Okay? Come on. Let's get you inside. You can sleep here.”

“No lock, though...” Harper worried, her voice – a tired murmur – breaking with fear. Tears fell down her cheeks.

Somehow, Harper made it to sit on the bed and Emma sat down, too. She was glad for it, when Harper continued to lean heavily on her shoulder. “I know you're scared. But you don't have to go back in there. You can stay here with me. I'll make sure you're safe, all right?”

“Thank you,” Harper cried.

“Okay, why don't you climb in first, and I'll be on the outside? What do you think?”

“Yeah...” Harper nodded.

Emma waited as Harper climbed in and pulled the covers up, still wrapped in her own blanket. Carefully, Emma got in after her. Harper was still shaking, and Emma laid an arm across her shoulders. She could still feel the rapid beat of Harper's heart.

Emma knew that had this been one of the foster children, sharing a bed would not have been allowed. Being William's daughter, though, and not in the care of the state, Harper was under no such restrictions.

Emma lie there, wide awake, and praying quietly that Harper be given peace and expressing thanks that Harper had felt safe enough to come to her when she was afraid.

Sometime after 3 AM, Emma drifted off, waking with her alarm at 7:30.

Harper sat up, looking confused. Shocked. Embarrassed. “I'm sorry,” she apologized.

“Hey, don't be. I told you it was okay to reach out if you needed me. You did. It's okay,” Emma said calmly, searching through her overnight bag for clothes.

“Can I still see Lexie?” Harper asked timidly.

“Of course. You're not in trouble.”

“Liv said Noah's still grounded, though?” Harper checked.

“Yeah,” Emma answered, careful to keep her tone neutral. “He's got a lot of extra work to do today for scaring you.”

“No one ever gets punished for hurting me...” Harper said. “Thank you. For taking it seriously.”

“Of course. No one has the right to intimidate anyone else in this house. It doesn't do anyone any favors to let unacceptable behavior slide. Now. Are you okay?”

“I think so. I just really wanna see Lexie and forget all about this,” Harper admitted.

“Well, get ready, grab some breakfast and get your chores done and that sounds good,” Emma nodded.

“Just my regular ones, though. Nothing extra?” Harper clarified.

Emma nodded.

So Harper stood up and headed for the door. At the last second, Emma called her name, and she turned.

“Harper? I'll always be honest with you.”

She didn't respond, but the small smile and nod she sent Emma was enough.

–

Noah sat on his bed, feeling restless and pissed off. Thanks to his screwing up, now he was stuck at home another day, doing whatever chores Liv came up with as restitution for freaking out on Harper yesterday.

Across the room, Oliver blinked awake. He was the lightest sleeper ever, and always woke up and the smallest noise.

“What?” he asked.

“You haven't seen a picture of me when I was little around anywhere, have you? I'm in a stupid orange life jacket with my real dad. We're in a boat.”

Oliver blinked, probably thinking Noah was crazy for talking about some random picture that he had no clue about. “No. I haven't.”

“I thought so...” Noah sighed. “If you do see it, can you let me know? It's the only one I have of me and my dad so it's kind of...important,” he admitted.

“Yeah. Sure. What are you doing up so early?” Oliver asked.

“I'm on Liv's shit list,” Noah confessed. Oliver wouldn't tell anyone. He never talked anyway.

“Why?”

Noah shrugged. “It's stupid.”

It wasn't. He knew, firsthand, how bad it sucked when someone you loved scared the crap out of you with yelling and threats. He hated the idea that he was even a little bit like his real dad. He'd hoped being around William would be good for him and he could absorb some of his steadiness, like, through osmosis or something. He'd thought it was working. Until yesterday.

It was stupid of him to fly off the handle. That's what was stupid.

He went out and stood by the couch where Liv was sleeping, one arm hanging off the edge, her hand brushing the floor.

“What?” she said, not opening her eyes.

“What do you want me to do first?” Noah asked, knowing it was easier to just face the music and take his punishment than try to avoid it and make it worse. One day on extra chores and house restriction seemed kind of small compared to what his mom used to give him to do if he stepped a toe out of line.

“Leave me alone. My alarm's set for 8:00 for a reason. I didn't get to bed til 1:30 AM and I need my beauty sleep.”

Right then, Liv's phone beeped with her alarm. She woke up, glaring at Noah. “I want your phone and your laptop and any other electronics you've got. This is not going to be a day with downtime.”

“Seriously?” he asked, mortified as his voice cracked over his break. He thought he was over that.

“Seriously,” Liv answered. She crossed her arms and waited.

Noah grimaced and went to his room for his laptop, Kindle and tablet and came back to hand her the pile. At the last second, he reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. Liv took them wordlessly and Noah's mouth dropped open as he watched Liv reach in the pocket of her pajamas for the key to his parents bedroom. She locked all of his electronics in there.

“Can I get those back before my mom gets home?” he asked, mortified.

“We'll see. If you can do what you're asked and keep your temper in check while you do it, it's something we can talk about.”

First, he was put in charge of making breakfast. That didn't sound so bad. Until Harper came upstairs and wrinkled her nose.

“If you're cooking, I'm not eating it,” she dropped her voice so Liv and Emma (who had just come back from showering) couldn't hear. “And I'm allowed to go to my friend's house. You're not. And you have the same curfew as me when you are allowed out.”

“Hey,” Liv said mildly. “Part of having privileges is acting in a way that we know you can handle them. Rubbing somebody's nose in their mistakes doesn't seem very mature.”

Harper rolled her eyes and pointedly went to fridge and stood with it open – something William hated – to decide what she wanted.

Noah watched out of the corner of his eye as Harper took out a package of Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies from somewhere in the recesses of the freezer and poured herself a glass of chocolate milk.

“Oh yeah, that's much better than my French toast,” Noah mocked softly.

“It is, actually,” Harper smiled, dropping a cookie in her milk and waiting.

He was so glad she was gonna be gone until dinner time. She was making it really hard to keep his cool.

–

“Come on, honeys! Wake up! It's a new day!” Zoey chirped annoyingly.

Ari groaned and Charlie covered her head with her pillow and screamed.

“I smell someone cooking food that smells delicioso! That's how Dora says it. I watched Dora at my contact yesterday. Charlie, did you get to watch Dora at your contact?”

“I don't watch baby shows, okay, honey?” Charlie said witheringly and Ari almost blew her cover and admitted she was awake by cheering. Charlie was such a little badass.

“Okay,” Zoey said, not seeming bothered in the least. “My daddy's coming soon. You guys know?”

“Sure,” Ari mumbled, knowing Zoey would not shut up until someone acknowledged her talking.

“I'm gonna have some breakfast,” Zoey sang, and Ari peeked out one eye to see her literally spinning out the door.

“Thank God,” Charlie breathed.

“I hate today.” Ari admitted, now that they were alone.

“I want my real mom,” Charlie said, not really an answer, but kind of.

“There is no way I'm going today. Contact sucks, “Ari said, pulling the covers over her head.

“Good. Stay home and play with me,” Charlie invited.

“Maybe I'll fake sick,” Ari thought aloud. Maybe she wouldn't have to fake it. Sometimes, just the thought of leaving the house gave her the worst stomachache.

“And then you might have to go to the real hospital, if they don't know you're faking,” Charlie said. Ari finally opened her eyes. She watched Charlie comb the matching blonde hair of her American Girl doll, Kirsten. If you asked Ari, it was creepy to have a doll that looked like you. But Charlie loved it.

“Whatever,” Ari sighed.

“Remember when I dressed up as Kirsten and you wanted to be a zombie but William and Grace said no? And we got tons of candy?”

“That was Halloween... We got dressed up and went Trick or Treating. It's what you do,” Ari said dryly. But Ari felt her stomach drop a little. Halloween had been less than a week after she'd gotten here. She'd wanted to be a zombie because that's how she'd felt. Instead, she'd just worn her regular clothes and a mask so no one could see who she really was and recognize that she was trick or treating with random little kids and not her friends.

“I never got to before. My real mom said it was rude to knock on people's doors and make them feed you. They might think you're homeless.”

Ari shook your head. “Not on Halloween. If you do it then, they know you're not.”

“Oh,” Charlie nodded.

“Girls,” Harper called, rushing by, “you've gotta come upstairs now. Breakfast's on the table.”

“You're not allowed to be done before everyone else,” Ari pointed out.

“I got permission. I'm doing my chores so I can go to Lexie's.”

“Unfair!” Ari protested. “You get to go to Lexie's twice and I don't get to see Luke once.”

“I'm eating,” Charlie announced, jumping down from the top bunk and running upstairs with Kirsten in her arms. “You better come or Carter might eat it all. You never know,” Charlie encouraged.

Sighing, Ari followed, even though she really wasn't hungry.

Eight hours and counting until contact.

–

Charlie clutched her fork tightly. She was doing that because Carter was making her very mad. Ssssstephanie was gone underground because she got jealous that Charlie went to contact and didn't bring her. So it was just Charlie being angry herself, which was way worse than having an invisible best friend snake to be mad with.

“Sometimes, I make Cam and Cora dinner, and then we watch TV. And sometimes, Mom and Dad bring us McDonald's!” he continued.

“Toy?” Josh asked.

“Nope, not usually, but one time? My mom brought us toys from the Dollar Store! I got all these dinosaurs! I gave them to Cameron, because he loves dinosaurs the best, and I have lots of Avengers here.”

“Stop being a bragger!” Charlie screamed, not taking it anymore. “Nobody wants to hear that!”

Emma put a hand on Charlie's arm and Charlie jerked it away. “I don't think Carter's bragging. I think he's excited about seeing his family.”

“I was excited to see my family!” Zoey added, not helping anything, as usual. “Ollie was, too, right, Ollie?”

Charlie watched. Oliver didn't answer.

“He was,” Zoey said, smiling and sure. “And you were excited, too, Charlie, don't you remember? Liv did your hair and rolled your sleeves for special.”

“Because you got paint on them,” Charlie warned, stabbing her fork into her French toast.

Everybody got done and Charlie still wasn't. If she ate super slow maybe Zoey would have to do all the chores they shared. She sat at the table for a long time on purpose. Liv and Emma even let everyone else get up.

Only Emma stayed at the table, too.

The kitchen was all cleaned up. No one was in it. Only them. Everybody was cleaning in other rooms.

Eyeing Emma, Charlie got out of her chair so fast, and brought it to the counter to climb up. She marched back and forth, waving the butter knife. “Knifes can cut you,” Charlie said raising her eyebrows at Emma. Emma couldn't climb up to take the knife away. And Liv was busy making Noah and everybody else, not Charlie, do chores. “They can make all your blood come out. Then die.”

“That's true,” Emma nodded, not even screaming bloody murder about the words or the knife or anything. “Do you think this is such a good thing for Kirsten to see, though?” she asked in a whisper. “I mean, you said one time she was just four. Maybe we better not scare her. What do you think?”

Kirsten was on the floor by the table. She could see everything. Her body was probably stiff from being scared and not talking at all because all the words got stuck inside. Charlie knew about how that felt. She didn't want Kirsten to feel scared.

“I was four,” Charlie said simply. She bit her lip and walked over the counter to the sink and dropped the knife in and then got on the chair and on the floor. She picked up Kirsten and cuddled her to her chest.

“It's okay. I wasn't going to hurt you. I was just mad inside,” Charlie whispered.

–

Oliver dusted and watched, not jealous at all this time, watching Noah scrub all the baseboards with a little rag and some extra dusting spray. He was in major trouble for something. It was bad, too, because Liv was always checking on him, making sure he was on task. She didn't check on the rest of them the way she checked on Noah.

Making his way downstairs, Oliver stopped, glancing at the blank spot on the wall. His stomach twisted, remembering Zoey's confusion at contact, when they'd walked in and Dad hadn't been there. He hadn't expected that. After all, she had seen everything he had. Dad wasn't coming. They both knew it. But she had looked behind all of the furniture. Asked the girls, who cried. And Zoey's face began to crumble.

That's when the lie came out. It just came out. His only job in the world that mattered was protecting Zoey and if she needed to believe Dad was coming, then he'd help her.

“He's not coming yet, but he'll be here sometime. We just have to be patient, okay?” Oliver said.

He ignored how the social worker in the corner wrote down notes when he said that. He got so angry when she pulled Zoey aside and tried to explain – again – that their dad was gone and wasn't ever coming back.

“Do you know what dead is?”

Oliver blinked. She had tried to convince Zoey, who, thankfully, just thought the social worker was a jerk and refused to listen. She was living in major denial, and Oliver was fine with that.

“Your father's funeral will be held tomorrow. We can help you both get there if it's something you want.”

“We don't.” Oliver had interjected roughly.

“It might be a good idea for you all to get closure. Have the chance to say goodbye.”

It was the dumbest thing Oliver had ever heard. A funeral was for the people who needed one. He didn't. Zoey definitely didn't. They needed to be left alone.

Emma had found Oliver last night before bed, and pulled him aside. It was strange. He had almost never talked to her. But she had read his note. He could see it in her eyes.

“I think honesty is always the best policy. If not now, then as soon as possible,” she had said and he had nodded his understanding, when he really didn't understand anything at all.

He kept going down the stairs and glanced around the family room. No one.

Lying on his stomach, he reached under the couch for the one unframed picture. Losing his dad the way they had, and having nothing to remember him by...well...it gave Oliver a guilty conscience about this. He couldn't take away somebody else's only memory of their dad.

All the pictures of William that drove him nuts were displayed on the walls and the fireplace mantle – places Oliver couldn't ignore. Every day he was faced with the fact that these kids had a dad, while he and Zoey didn't. But Noah's picture had been out of sight. Oliver hadn't been forced to see it.

He searched the rooms and found Noah on his hands and knees at the end of one of the upstairs hallways.

“What?” he grunted.

“I found this,” he lied.

“Where was it?” Noah asked, breathless.

“Wedged between your bed and the desk,” he said, not sure why the lies kept coming.

Noah squinted, skeptical, but in the end, gratefulness won out. “Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me to have this back.”

“Yeah, I do, actually,” Oliver answered, turning and walking away.