So, he left one of his old t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants folded on the coffee table along with a glass of water and two aspirin. He noticed her phone on the floor where it had fallen from her purse. The screen was cracked, but the phone itself seemed functional, just dead. He plugged it into a charger near the couch so she would have it when she woke up. Then he sat down at the kitchen table and wrote a note on a piece of paper torn from Ella's homework notebook.
Miss Carter, you're at my house. You had too much to drink at the company party and couldn't get home safely. I'm sleeping in my daughter's room. If you need anything, knock on the door at the end of the hall. Harry.
He placed the note next to the water glass, positioning it where she would see it the moment she opened her eyes. Then he turned off the lights and retreated to the hallway, leaving the bathroom light on so she wouldn't be disoriented if she woke up in the middle of the night. At 9:30, his phone buzzed. A text from Angela. She did amazing standing ovation.
But she kept looking for you. I recorded the whole thing. Sending it now. Harry stared at those words until his vision blurred. A video file came through a moment later, but he couldn't bring himself to watch it.
Not yet. He typed back a simple thank you, then set the phone face down on the kitchen counter. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway came at 10:45. Harry was at the front door before Angela could even knock, stepping outside and pulling it closed behind him so the noise wouldn't wake Cara. Angela was a retired school teacher in her 60s who had been watching Ella since she was 3 years old.
She looked at Harry now with an expression that wasn't quite judgment but wasn't quite understanding either. She fell asleep in the car, Angela said quietly, gesturing to where Ella was slumped in the back seat. Wore herself out with all that performing. Thank you for doing this. I know it was last minute.
Angela studied his face for a long moment. "Everything okay, Harry?" "Work emergency," he said. The lie tasting bitter on his tongue. It couldn't wait. She didn't press further, just nodded and helped him transfer Ella from the car to his arms.
His daughter stirred slightly, her small hands finding their familiar grip around his neck, her face burrowing into his shoulder. Daddy," she murmured, still half asleep. "I'm here, baby. Let's get you to bed." He carried her inside, moving quietly past the living room where Carara's silhouette was visible on the couch, but Ella's eyes fluttered open at exactly the wrong moment, and she lifted her head to look around. "Daddy, who's that lady?" Harry's heart stuttered.
"She's someone from my work, sweetheart. She got sick and needed a place to rest for the night. Ella squinted at the couch, then looked back at her father with the unfiltered curiosity of an 8-year-old. Is she going to be okay? She'll be fine by morning.