Isaac kept his hand on the knob a few long seconds. The door was finished. So was the job. Then he packed up his tools, each one back in its place. Sam appeared in the hallway barefoot, his hair wild from sleep.
Are you done? Isaac looked around. The whole house repaired. Safe, whole. I'm done.
The boy looked at the closed toolbox. So now you're leaving. Isaac crouched down to his height. That's what I agreed with. Your mama, Sam.
The boy pressed his lips together in that stubborn way that was pure Maggie. But you only agreed to fix the house, his voice caught. Nobody asked us if we wanted you to go. Isaac had no answer for that. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder.
Some things the grown-ups have to decide, son, but I'll promise you this. I won't just disappear without saying goodbye to you. I don't do that. Sam waited a few seconds as if he needed to be sure. Then he nodded and went back to his room.
From the kitchen, Maggie heard the whole thing, and she stayed right where she was, her son's words ringing in her ears. That afternoon, she watched Isaac fold his blanket and gather his few things into a duffel bag. She wanted to ask him to stay. She almost did, but then she thought about Rose, his wife, gone such a short time. She thought maybe Isaac was mistaking gratitude for something else.
She thought maybe he only wanted to stay because of Sam and Jesse, and not because of her. She thought about Travis, who had promised twice to stay, and had left both times. In the end, she said nothing. Around dusk, she walked out to the shed. Isaac was sitting on the edge of a crate with his daughter in his lap.
"When are you going?" She asked. "Tomorrow morning. He didn't even look up." "I've got most everything packed."
Maggie swallowed the answer she really wanted to give. The one that said, "Don't go." "All right," was all she said. "Safe travels." And she went back to the house.
That night, a thin, cold rain started falling. Maggie lay in bed and waited for the drip in the hallway, the sound that always meant it was time to fetch the bucket. The sound never came. For the first time since Isaac had arrived, not a single bucket had to be set on the floor. The roof was dry.