The limo showing up to collect me the next day doesn’t even seem strange anymore.

I think it’s mostly because my thoughts are still so heavy with what Angel and Mrs. Perino revealed to me. They’ve given me a new perspective into how and why they helped us. Now, instead of focusing on my worries, I feel lucky. What happened to them makes any of my problems not seem insurmountable today. The cranky driver who’s freaked me out every day with his bad attitude and snide looks has gone from a mini-monster to a buzzing fly. The rollercoasters and the park landscapes I once longed to explore hardly capture my attention anymore. I’m getting used to all this, just as I’m getting used to being an adult.

Maybe just maybe this new resolve and new perspective means I’m not pretending anymore?

Last night I wanted to ask Angel and Mrs. Perino why they never moved away from this place. But then, this morning, as I stepped outside the back door while I ate the mouthwatering peach-apricot filled pastry Mrs. Perino had handed me, and I stared at Cara’s cottage again, I understood. Cara’s still somehow alive for them in this back garden. She’s all around this bright mini-piazza, and certainly parts of her heart are shining from the walls of her studio. And now, Cara, she’s somehow lighting up me, too.

Sage had joined me on the back step, with three of his own pastries in tow. “How did you sleep?” he’d asked, stuffing a whole pastry into his mouth nearly swallowing it whole.

“Great,” I’d lied, because I’d been replaying Angel’s story in my head all night long instead of sleeping. Also, because it was hard not to wonder just what would have happened if the wrong people had locked on to me and Sage?

Shuddering, I press my back deeper into the seat of the limousine, wondering still: Would I have fallen for someone pulling a con act? I’d hopped into the car with Angel to come home to dinner with him. Anything could have happened that night. We didn’t know him or his mom. Angel could have been the con artist.

Though I’ve heard and read news stories about homeless teens falling victim to people like the ones who tricked Cara, Angel and their mom. Until yesterday, I thought those were things that happened to kids who were from other places. Kids with bad homes with parents that were on drugs. They weren’t normal kids like me and Sage, that’s for sure. But the night Angel invited us home, my brother and I weren’t even admitting to our situation. A few more days of rock-bottom funding, hunger, and hotel-hopping despair, and it’s possible we would have grabbed the first hook dangled in front of us.

I shudder thinking about Gregory and Mrs. Felix’s job offer. I suppose we did grab the first hook that was thrown our way. Thank God Mrs. Felix and Gregory also turned out to be kind, and nice, and also legit. I never considered how Sage and I could have ended up in real trouble like Angel and Cara did years ago. I’d also never imagined one of us hurt or dying because of our choices to try to make it on our own.

While Sage munched down his second pastry, he told me Mrs. Perino had made him a real job offer and that he’d accepted it. In addition to watching over the girls, he would be in charge of the chickens and the rabbits, sometimes the goat. He explained how he’d worked it out so that no money would be changing hands. He said he was going to be working off some of what we owed for our stay here by helping out extra every day just as he and I had talked about. His face was so content that all I could do was match his grin and tell him how great it sounded, and how awesome he was to help out.

Only it didn’t sound great. It sounded like I was failing as a parent. I don’t want Sage to think he has to work off anything for us. I’m supposed to be taking care of that, and as soon as I’m paid this week, I will talk to Mrs. Perino about this. In the meantime, this job offer has obviously made Sage proud. I’ll just add my own brother’s name to the ever-increasing list of people I need to pay back while I’m getting my sucking attempt at being a real adult stabilized.

When Mrs. Perino came out to hand off what she’d told me was going to now be a daily delivery for Gregory and Mrs. Felix, she confirmed the existence of Sage’s important new job. I’d nodded enthusiastically, but I was sure to add that it was only for a little while, because I didn’t want any permanence placed on what Sage would be doing here.

“For today, Robin. Yes, but like I’ve said all along, maybe for longer, yes? If you decide to stay long term,” Mrs. Perino had answered.

I answered her with the same words from yesterday: “Again, maybe.”

As the limo pulled in, Mrs. Perino dashed back inside to box the last half of the Guarderobe order still cooling on a baking sheet.

Sage had turned on me then. Eyes half angry, half upset, he’d whispered, “Robin, what do you mean, maybe? They’ve offered to rent us that cottage. Officially.” He points to Cara’s cottage. “And what if I want to stay, because you know I do. Don’t I have a vote?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to stay, it’s that I’m concerned if we do , we might become a burden.”

“But I’m helping her. Mrs. Perino says every day how she can’t live without me. How can that mean we’re a burden?”

“That’s because she’s nice. No matter how much this feels like home, you and I don’t belong here or to them. Sage, we are still technically runaways. If the Perinos find that out, and that I’m not eighteen yet, they might get in trouble or something for letting us live here. I will need time to get the paperwork settled after my birthday,” I add faking extreme confidence, because truthfully, I have no clue what paperwork I need settled or how to do it.

He frowns, shoulders drooping. “But how long will it take for that to be settled. Your birthday is only in a couple of days so like, we’re practically golden.”

“I know. Yes. You’re probably right,” I force a calm expression. “But there will be forms to fill out, and letters to be written. My guess is that some sort of official approval will happen between me and the local courthouse. Does that make any sense at all?”

“No.” Sage’s face had flushed then, and I’d felt bad because, again, it also makes no sense to me yet. Nor do I know how to proceed, but as soon as I have money in my pocket I’m going to hire a lawyer to help me find out. “We can’t decide what we’re doing beyond today, that’s all,” I evade.

“Okay, but then…” He looks up, capturing my eyes with his pleading, big, blue eyes. “In the meantime, and so that Anna and Julia can have their princess room back, can we at least give it a try?”

“Try what?”

He points at the cottage again. “Can we stay in the cottage starting tonight until we do decide? It’s so cute inside there, and Mrs. Perino and I had this plan to move some of our stuff from the car in there today. We’ve also planned to have dinner in the cottage as a family tonight. In our place.” He grins, eyes sparkling at the thought. “It won’t be any trouble for you at all. It will be fun, like…you and me playing house. Can we? Try it out? See how it feels living in there?”

I nodded then, too overwhelmed, because Mrs. Perino had come out and overheard Sage asking about moving into the cottage. “How do you feel about that, dear Robin?” she’d asked, softly.

I didn’t answer right away because it was all I could do to keep my expression in check. I know how it’s going to feel to live in that cottage.

The cottage with the sunroom art studio.

The cottage with the kitchen that’s a mini version of Mrs. Perino’s kitchen.

The cottage with two bedrooms one bath, a real fireplace and squeaking wide-planked wood floors and it’s own kitchen table and a view of the amazing garden.

It’s going to feel like everything else in this place. Perfect.

A feeling that is going to eventually hurt us, because I also know if we sleep in that cottage, even for one day, everything else will feel wrong, empty, and not good enough in comparison.

Mrs. Perino’s hopeful expression had been so huge, and she’d been reflecting Sage’s excitement so brightly, the two of them were like an unstoppable force. Instead of denying them, I only ruffled the blond curls at the front of Sage’s head and answered, “Yes. Okay, if it’s not too much trouble. We can try it.”

“Wonderful.” She handed me the last box of pastries, and my brother who hardly ever hugs anyone but me, had hugged Mrs. Perino so tight, I was stunned.

As the limo pulled away, I watched Anna and Julia skipping around Sage as he ushered the two girls back into the house. He was talking a mile a minute to Mrs. Perino while she laughed at whatever he was saying. He’d looked so content that my heart simultaneously doubled in size from it and then broke in half as my fears creeped in.

Is this how things are supposed to be turning out? He’s a babysitter, I’m a babysitter, and we’re taking too much from this generous family. Am I doing the right things here? Should he and I go back to North Carolina before Sage or the Perino family winds up hurt or in trouble?

As we pull into the hotel grounds and the limo winds me around to the unmarked side door, I push away doubt-demons and quickly make new questions to answer:

Would Dad be proud of me?

Yes.

Would he agree that his two kids are safe, together, and happy today, which is all he would want?

Yes.

Would he advise me to proceed with our mission of staying together no matter the doubts I’m having?

I think he’d answer yes again.

He’d encourage me to continue on, see what today brings, and then tomorrow. He’d say adjust and evolve accordingly, but keep the goal in sight.

And I bet that’s what he’s doing too, wherever he is.

One moment, one day at a time. I can do that. I can. Whatever it takes to keep Sage with me.

Failure is not an option.

When the chauffer parks and cuts the engine, I quip: “Nanny to the stars is back again.”

The chauffeur coughs and raises his brow with this look that says he’s just read my mind and that he doesn’t believe in the full-adult I’d thought I’d felt inside of me this morning. It also says what the usual. That I’m way too beneath him to ever inspire him to hop out and open the door for me.

I raise both of my brows back in challenge, and let myself out, muttering, “I’ll show him…I show everyone. I will.”