“Okay.” A simple request, easy to do. She could certainly call her Niki if that’s what she preferred, but it would have been nice of Amy to fill her in on this particular detail. She pulled into the garage and shut off the engine. “As I was saying, Niki, I want you to feel welcome here. I’ve lived alone a long time, so if you need something, please ask. I’m not used to having someone else around.”
“I won’t be here long, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” But Niki was already opening the car door now, so Sharon followed suit, getting out of the car and releasing the trunk latch. “That’s the opposite of what I meant, in fact.”
Niki pulled out her suitcase. “Okay.”
Sharon led the way into the house, chattering nervously as she went. She found this girl unnerving, hard to read. Why would Amy have ever thought they’d be good together? She narrated as they went through the house. “In the back hall here there are hooks to hang up your coat and a boot mat, if your feet are wet.” She slipped off her own boots and hung up her coat, but Niki just nodded and didn’t make a move to take off her sweatshirt or her shoes. Moving on, Sharon said, “As you can see, this is the kitchen. The laundry room is behind that door. Feel free to use the washer and dryer. If you need help with them, let me know. They’re fairly new and very high tech. They took me the longest time to figure out,” she admitted. “I had to go on YouTube and watch a tutorial three times before I got it down pat.”
Through all this, Niki pulled her suitcase along and kept her backpack looped over her arm. She looked around as if scoping out the exits, seemingly ready to bolt at any minute.
After walking through the living room, Sharon gestured to her ginger cat, who lay stretched out along the top edge of the couch. “That’s Sarge. He’s very lazy and probably won’t bother you.” Niki leaned over to pet Sarge’s head, and the cat appreciatively bumped his head into the palm of her hand.
“He’s a sweetie,” Niki said, rubbing under his chin. “His name is Sarge?”
“Short for Sargent Snuggles.”
“Perfect.” Niki nodded in approval.
They continued on, Sharon pointing out the front entrance and circling around until they ended up in her bedroom with its adjacent bathroom. She walked through, opening the door to the bathroom. Sharon had a well-practiced routine that she usually did when giving guests the tour, a sort of apology for the size of the rooms, and out of habit, she began to explain. “Not very big, but it’s just me and—”
Niki let go of her suitcase for the first time and looked around the room, spellbound. “I think this is the most beautiful bathroom I’ve ever seen.” She leaned over and peered at the honeycomb tile floor.
“Really?”
Niki stood up and nodded. “So pretty. And you have it all to yourself.” She ran a finger over the granite countertops and looked up at the tulip-shaped pendant lights, an antique fixture that Sharon loved as much for its appearance as for the rosy glow it cast over the room. “You must love living here.”
“I do. A lot of people my age are looking at assisted living apartments. I guess there are advantages to that kind of thing, but I’d rather stay here as long as I can.”
“If I had this house, I’d never move.”
Sharon smiled. “That’s how I feel.”
Niki nodded and then turned to face her. “So if I’m going to be on the couch, where should I put my stuff? In the laundry room?”
It took Sharon a moment to realize what Niki was saying. “Oh no, you’re not sleeping on the couch. You can have Amy’s old room upstairs. Come along. I’ll take you up.” She led the way, opening a door that was the entrance to the narrow wooden staircase. At one time this had led to a walk-up attic, but the previous owners had converted it into two bedrooms and a bathroom. The bigger room had been Amy’s; the other they used for storage. The junk room was what they called it. Sharon explained all this as they climbed the stairs. When they got to Amy’s room, she was relieved to find it tidy and dust free, the bed made and nothing cluttering the floor or the top of the dresser. Amy must have cleaned the last time she stayed over. “Just make yourself at home. The dresser should be empty.”
Niki left her suitcase next to the bed and walked over to the window.
“You have a view of the backyard,” Sharon said, joining her and pointing. “Nothing too exciting.”
“Who lives in that house?” Niki asked. From this height, they could see into the backyard and look directly into one of the upstairs windows. Sharon hadn’t been up here in ages and had forgotten that the second story afforded so much of a view.
“The Flemings. A couple with a teenage son and a little dog.”
“You know them?”
“No, we’ve never met. I just see them sometimes, and I’ve driven past their house.”
“Oh.”
“I did notice something kind of weird about them just last night.” Sharon had not planned on bringing this up, but the words just popped out.
“Weird how?”
She shrugged. “It might be nothing, but I was in the yard last night around eleven to see the lunar eclipse.” Sharon paused, and when Niki didn’t respond, she plowed forward. “And I saw a little girl washing dishes at the kitchen sink. A really little girl, like five or six? Looked to me like she was standing on a step stool. It struck me as odd because they don’t have a daughter, at least not that I’ve seen.” She found it difficult to read Niki’s face. Did she just think she was an old busybody with nothing better to do than spy on the neighbors?
“And even if they did have a daughter, why would she be washing dishes at eleven at night?” Niki said, finishing her thoughts.
“Exactly,” Sharon said. “I was thinking maybe they had houseguests, but even then why would she be doing dishes?”
Niki nodded, weighing her words.
Sharon added, “And then I saw Mrs. Fleming come in, and it was just for a split second, but she looked furious. She yanked on the little girl’s arm, and then I couldn’t see them anymore.”
“Sounds like a foster child to me,” Niki said.
“I don’t think they have a foster child,” Sharon said, then realized she didn’t really know much about the family at all.
“They could have one and you might not know it,” Niki said. “It fits what you saw. A little kid washing dishes late at night. She was probably being punished, and then she got in more trouble for not doing it right.”
“No . . . ,” Sharon said, shocked. “I can’t believe someone would treat a child that way.”
Niki laughed, a bark of derision. “Believe it. Happens all the time.”
“But one that small? I mean, she looked like a little tiny girl.”
“Absolutely.” Niki’s eyes narrowed. “I could tell you stories.”
Sharon could hear Amy’s words echoing in her head. Nikita’s gone through hell. All she needs is a room and a little support. Just someone to be in her corner, to let her know she matters.
Such a simple thing and not much to ask for. Not much at all.