Is Late Better than Never? Chapter 7
by Lily Rasputin

I got home about ten minutes before Devon’s bus arrived. I waved to him as it pulled to a stop and the doors opened. Bouncing off the steps, he ran over and gave me a hug. As I hugged him back, it dawned on me that his attitude since my return had been overtly friendly. Not that he was a shy kid to begin with. It just seemed like he was extraordinarily excited that I was here.

Was this a result of Namira’s magic? Or, more sobering, was this the result of six months of living in the storm that was constantly raging between Kelly and Sheila? Did he see me as a safe point in the tempest?

“Hey, Kiddo,” I said, “how was school?”

“Boring,” he replied as he released his grip on my waist and took my hand, beginning to walk us in the direction of home.

“Boring? Come on. I bet you can tell me three things you learned if you think about it.”

He looked up at me and smiled. “You sound like my dad.”

I froze for a moment, then resumed walking as I hoped my face didn’t look as pale as it felt. “What do you mean?”

“He always used to say that we always learn more than we thought we did. All we have to do was remember.”

“Oh,” I said, putting on a tight smile. “Sounds like your dad was a pretty smart guy.”

He nodded. “The smartest.”

Did the praise make me feel better? Of course. But it also made me sad that I never told him just how smart I thought he was. I could do it now, as Maddie, but it probably wouldn’t be the same.

We walked into the house, and I made him hang his bookbag on the hook in the hallway. “What do you want for a snack? Apple slices and peanut butter?”

Devon gave me a surprised look. “How did you know?”

This time, I had a believable answer. I pointed at the fridge, where Kelly’s instructions for Maddie hung. “Your mom left me a cheat sheet.”

He laughed and nodded as he grabbed his tablet from the charging stand and sat at the table. “Thank you, Maddie.”

“You’re so very welcome, Kiddo.”

While Devon happily munched on his snack, I tidied up the kitchen and took some ground beef out of the freezer to defrost for dinner. I really wanted to make the cheeseburger casserole my family used to clamor for on a regular basis. However, I was well aware that I had slipped up several times already. My knowledge of Michael’s secret recipe might really set off alarm bells.

By the time Sheila got home, I was following a recipe I’d found for meatloaf meatballs and dicing up bell peppers. Devon was outside jumping on the trampoline, burning off what seemed to be limitless energy when the front door slammed hard enough to come off the hinges.

When she walked into the kitchen, she froze and stared. Almost as if she wasn’t sure why I was standing behind the island cutting up vegetables. Then the surprised expression faded, replaced by the sneer of disdain I was beginning to think was her default mode.

Smiling, I put the knife down. “Welcome home. How was school?”

Rather than acknowledge my greeting, she unslung her backpack and dropped it on the floor next to the doorway before walking to fridge to grab a soda.

“Sheila, how was school? Did you have a good day?”

She turned slowly towards me. “What do you care? Do you get a bonus for asking?”

“Nope,” I said, pushing a smile onto my face. Much like with Meredith, I decided that not letting her see she was pushing my buttons might be the best option. “I’m genuinely interested.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously for a moment, then she turned and walked out of the room.

“That could have gone better.” I sighed and resumed my task.

I had just put the finished meal in the oven to bake when the phone on the counter rang. The house line. I picked up the receiver, but Sheila screamed down from the top of the stairs.

“I got it!”

I shot a suspicious glance to the ceiling. Sheila had gotten her own cellphone for her twelfth birthday. Afterwards, she was notorious for ignoring the ringing of the house phone. To the point where Kelly and I had to remind her that just because the call wasn’t coming in specifically for her didn’t mean she didn’t have a responsibility to answer it.

I glanced at the receiver again as it released another shrill ring. The Caller ID read: GCS.

Guilford County Schools.

I pressed the answer button and put the device to my ear.

“Good evening,” the robotic voice of the automatic message said. “Sheila Johnston was absent from three periods today. This is a reminder that excessive absences will result in lowering of a student’s grades. Goodbye.”

The call terminated, and I stared at the phone in my hand.

Sheila had been absent from three classes today. What the hell?

I put the phone back in its cradle just as the student in question bolted into the room.

“Did you answer the phone?”

Shaking my head, I walked over to the pantry and grabbed a bag of potatoes to go with the meatloaf. “You said you were getting it.” I threw a deliberately confused expression her way. “Didn’t you answer it?”

She paused for a moment, studying me. As Mike, I could never lie to my daughter. She always knew my tells, and could separate my lies from the truths. However, Maddie was a wild card.

“No. If they call back, I’ll get it.”

I nodded. “Of course. Would you like to help me with the potatoes?” I knew it was a long shot, but part of me hoped she would accept the offer.

“No way. You’re the maid, remember?” Then she departed and went back up to her room.

Kelly got home just as I was finishing up the mashed potatoes. When she came into the kitchen, looking only slightly less harried than yesterday afternoon, she stopped and took a deep inhale.

“I don’t know what you made for dinner, Maddie, but I already know I’m going to love it.”

I grinned. “Meatloaf meatballs, mashed potatoes, and snow peas.” I walked over and took the briefcase from her hand. “Why don’t you take a moment and relax while I get everything plated?”

The look of barely constrained relief swam across Kelly’s face, knocking some of the haggardness away. She smiled and gave me a little nod.

“I really shouldn’t. However, today’s been the Day from Hell, and if I can just get fifteen minutes to breathe …”

Putting my hand on her shoulder, I gently nudged her toward the stairs. “Go. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Kelly hesitated for a moment, then relented after a couple of seconds’ indecision. “Okay. Thanks, Maddie. I appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

By the time I’d gotten everything plated and set on the table, Kelly had changed into a pair of jeans and one of my old sweatshirts, and was sitting leaning against the island with a glass of wine. One that was already mostly empty.

“Are you sure I can’t help, Maddie? You’re the nanny, not my slave.”

I laughed as I poured a glass of milk for Devon. “It’s not being a slave, Kelly. It’s helping out. I mean, you worked all day in that nest of backstabbing vipers. All I did was get the kids out the door and bring them home after.” I put loaded plates at all the place settings.

When I turned back around, the glass in her hand was empty and her hand was reaching for the nearby bottle of cabernet. I opened my mouth to remind her that two glasses of red back to back was going to give her a hell of headache in the morning. Then I reminded myself that Kelly’s reaction to red wine isn’t something my new self would know.

“It’s ready. I’ll call the kids down.”

“Good luck,” she said as she pushed off the island and walked to her chair. “I’ve not been able to get Sheila to eat with us for over a month now.”

I frowned, but then smiled. “I think I know how to convince her.”

Walking upstairs, I found Devon lying on his bed, playing with a Lego Tie-fighter.

“Dinner’s ready, Solo,” I said with a little laugh. “Best get downstairs before you end up encased in Carbonite.”

He grinned and put down the model. “Let’s hope the Force is with me.” He ran past me and went downstairs as fast as he could.

Grinning, I turned to see Sheila standing in her doorway, giving me a massive stink-eye look.

“Dinner’s ready, Sheila.”

She gave me an angry glare and turned to walk back into her room, closing the door behind her. I quickly moved across the hall and placed my hand on the door, keeping it open.

“I said that dinner was ready.”

“I’ll eat later,” she said, attempting to push the door closed.

While I was nowhere as strong as I’d been as Mike, I was still stronger than a pissy fifteen-year-old. I kept the door open and stared at her with a little smirk on my face.

“Why don’t you come down and eat now? I’ve already made you a plate and everything.”

She pushed harder but only managed to move the door an inch or two. “Leave me alone!”

I nodded. “I think you’ve punished your mother and brother enough. Are you hurting? Of course you are. But they’re hurting, too. You’re fighting against them when you all should be supporting and comforting each other.”

“What would you know about it? You’re just some rich bitch who took this job to feel important. Why don’t you do us all a favor and quit?”

Rich bitch? How did Sheila know that Maddie’s family had money? Was it the car? That didn’t necessarily equate to wealth. I also didn’t recall mentioning my having lunch at the country club. Had she done some type of background check on Maddie? Social media, perhaps.

“I can’t do that, Sheila. I’m not going to do that.”

Her upper lip curled back into that sneer I was beginning to thoroughly despise. “How about you just fuck off? Leave me alone.”

I leaned closer. “I don’t want to be enemies, Sheila. I would actually like for us to be friends.” I nodded my head toward the stairs. “However, if you do not come downstairs for dinner and behave in a civilized, respectful manner, I will have no choice but to inform your mother that you’ve been ditching classes.”

The way her mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened, told me that she hadn’t expected her secret to get out. After a second or two, her face turned crimson, and her jaw clenched tightly.

“I told you that I would be answering the phone.”

I shrugged. “Sorry. Isn’t taking phone calls what the maid does?” I stopped holding the door open. “Five minutes. Make your choice.”

Turning, I walked away and back downstairs. When I stepped into the kitchen, Devon was already chowing down, but Kelly looked despondent.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I knew she was already pretty mad at me before I suggested getting a nanny. I just didn’t think she would let that anger carry over to a stranger.”

I waved my hand and took my seat at the table, picking up my knife and fork.

“It’s okay. We had a little chat. She’ll be down in a minute.”

Kelly gave me a sympathetic and skeptical nod, picking up her own utensils. She had just cut a piece of meatloaf and was putting it in her mouth when Sheila walked in and sat down across from her.

“Who made the meatloaf?” She asked, looking at me.

“I did. I haven’t tried it yet, so let me know what you think.” I turned my gaze to the others. “What all of you think, actually. If it’s horrible, let me know and I’ll never make it again.”

Kelly stared at Sheila for a few more moments before looking my way and mouthing ‘how?’

I shrugged casually and resumed eating. When everyone was done, I stood up and looked at Sheila. “How about helping me clear the table?”

She shot me a look, and I half-expected her to remind me that I was the servant, not her. However, she sighed and stood up, leaning over to grab Devon’s empty plate. I got Kelly’s and carried them over to the sink, placing them in the basin. Sheila followed suit, then looked at me.

“Can I go back to my room now? Or is there something else I have to do?”

I looked over at Kelly, arching a brow.

“Homework as soon as you get in there, if you haven’t already done it.”

When she left, and Devon had gone into the living room, Kelly stood up and walked over to me, still looking incredulous.

“I don’t know what you said to her, Maddie, but good job.”

I shrugged and started cleaning off the dishes. “It’s just one dinner. Let’s not jump with glee before we check the landing.”

Kelly sat her mostly empty wine glass on the side of the sink. “I’m going upstairs. Put them to bed?”

“Of course,” I said, looking at her with a smile. “Happy to.”

When I saw the perplexed expression on her face, my grin fell away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said in a way I felt was far too quick. “Good night, Maddie.”

She walked briskly out of the kitchen, said a quick goodnight to Devon, and went upstairs.

I cleaned up the kitchen, put the extra food into containers for leftovers, and then sent Devon up to take a bath. While he got undressed, I ran a tub full of hot water and added a bunch of bubble bath. When he came in wearing a thick blue robe adorned with Pokémon creatures, his eyes bulged at all the suds.

“Awesome. Thanks, Maddie.” He gave me a hug. “You’re the best!”

I smiled and returned the hug, feeling my eyes begin to water with tears. It might only seem like a couple of days since I’d seen him, but the thought that he’d had to go without me for so long tore at my heart.

“Get in, kiddo. Keep the water in the tub as much as you can. Be sure to wash, too. Not just play.”

I left the room and closed the door, leaving it slightly ajar in case he needed help, and went to Sheila’s room. I knocked as I tried the handle, surprised that it wasn’t locked.

She was lying on her bed, scrolling through her phone. When she saw it was me and not Kelly, the surprised look on her face at the interruption turned to anger.

“Come to blackmail me some more?”

I shook my head. “No. I only did that to get you to come to dinner. I’m not going to continue to hold it over your head.”

“Then what do you want?”

I walked over and sat down on the corner of her bed, taking a quick glance around the room. It wasn’t just her appearance and attitude that had changed over the past six months.

The pink curtains around the single window were gone, leaving only the valor blinds to block out the light from the setting sun. The posters of pop stars she idolized had been torn down, with the corner of one still affixed to the wall next to the closet. The bed itself was disheveled, as though it hadn’t been made that morning.

It was not the room of the happy, carefree teen that I remembered living in it.

When my gaze returned to Sheila, she was still staring at me, awaiting a response to her question.

“Where did you go?” I asked. “You ditched class. So where were you?”

“None of your business.”

I nodded slowly. “I’m sure you believe that. But I would think that your mom would believe otherwise. I’m positive that she would consider knowing where you are during the day a fundamental part of my job.”

She huffed and looked back down at her phone. Effectively ignoring me.

I think it was the fact that her behavior was so un-Sheila-like, that I was having trouble actually being angry. I had been gone, and she had not handled my absence well at all. Getting irate and authoritative would only push her further into her anger.

“Well, I would appreciate you staying at school. If you keep ditching, I will have to tell her.”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she continued to scroll on her phone.

“Good night, Sheila. Don’t stay up too late.”

I left the room and checked on Devon, reminding him to actually wash. After securing a promise that he would (something I amusingly doubted), I went back to my new room.

A buzzing noise from the bed drew my attention, and I realized that I’d been so preoccupied with making dinner and dealing with Sheila that I had left my phone in the room. When I picked it up, I saw that it was Becki. I declined the call and shook my head.

“Why can’t she just accept that she and Maddie broke up and move on?” I said aloud softly. “This is just additional complications I don’t need right now.”

Sitting on the bed, I checked the call log. Between the time I’d started making the meatloaf and right now she’d called nearly a dozen times. I opened the messaging app and saw nearly twice that many texts. Pretty much all saying the same thing.

Call me.

I turned the phone off and laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Namira had done a number, sticking me in the middle of a life worthy of a teen drama show. Why couldn’t she have found a shy, quiet loner orphan to stick me into? Someone with no outside attachments or entanglements. Then I could have focused more on fixing my kids’ lives and less on mitigating Maddie’s.

When I was sure the water had to be cold, I knocked on the bathroom door and insisted Devon get out and get dressed. After getting him to brush his teeth and tucking him in, I returned to my room and got ready for bed myself.

Pulling the covers up to my neck, I tried to plan out a way to ditch Becki and Steffie, avoid dealing with Meredith, and throw myself fully into being the best nanny I could. Unfortunately, sleep overtook me before I could even come close to solving any of those issues.

The next morning, Kelly was already gone by the time I’d woken Devon and Sheila and made it downstairs. When I checked my phone upon entering the empty kitchen and finding her mostly empty mug sitting on the counter, I found a text message.
Called in to emergency meeting this morning. Might be home late. Devon has soccer.

I frowned. Whenever Kelly had had to rush off early in the morning for an emergency meeting, it usually meant that a case wasn’t going her way and the senior partners wanted to do a thorough damage assessment. I remembered her coming home late on many an evening, looking like she’d just been put through the wringer.

Somehow, I doubted she would be up to letting Maddie give her the tension-releasing, full body massage that Mike used to.

I sent back a text that I would handle everything on the home front and that I hoped her day wasn’t too stressful.

Devon wasn’t excited to learn his mom had already left, but Sheila actually seemed pleased. Not that she actually admitted such. It was just in the way her scowl seemed to lessen when she found out, and the way she gave Devon’s hair a loving tussle before going back to giving me the stink-eye.

After the kids were off to school, I decided to do laundry. I didn’t have enough to do a full load, and I didn’t want to wash Kelly’s things without checking with her first, so I settled for only emptying the kids’ hampers. I put Devon’s clothes in first, then went to grab Sheila’s.

As I was transferring the dirty items from the hamper in the closet to the empty basket on the bed, I spotted a composition book mostly hidden between two shoe boxes on the shelf over my head. Only the top two-thirds was poking out, but I could cleaning make out the single word written in black Sharpie.

“Journal.”

Sheila had taken up writing in a daily diary just after her eleventh birthday. She told me once that it helped her organize her thoughts and let her work through her fears and worries. When I asked how she’d come by such wisdom, she responded with the name of some television show I barely had knowledge of.

This was Sheila’s diary. But was it an old one, or the current one? Were her feelings and thoughts on my death and her blame of Kelly for it in there? Maybe her true thoughts on the nanny who’d been thrust into her life without her consent?

I turned the book over in my hands several times, feeling the bonfire of curiosity burning inside me. As Mike, I’d never even entertained the thought of reading her private musings. Our bond had been so close that I knew, without question, she would come to me with anything more serious than an unrequited crush. Or a stupid tiff with a friend.

But I wasn’t there anymore to be her supportive, non-judgmental, sounding board. She had only the journal.

After a few moments of contemplation, I put the personal tome back where it was. Maddie needed to earn Sheila’s trust and acceptance. Reading her diary would definitely not help in that endeavor. I grabbed the rest of her clothing, picked up the basket, and left her room (and the diary) behind.

The phone rang while I was eating lunch. Sighing, I swiped my thumb across the screen and put it to my ear. “Hey, Steffie,” I said, trying to sound much more pleased than I felt.

“What the fuck, Maddie? You didn’t break up with Becki?”

Oh shit. “What?”

“Your crazy, not-ex girlfriend just accosted me in the club parking lot! She was all up in my face telling me to stay away from her girlfriend. Fuck! I thought she was going to punch me or something.”

“Uh, shit. How does she know about you?”

“She followed you to the goddamned ice cream shop yesterday and saw us together!”

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

“I’m sorry,” I said, actually feeling a bit sorry for the girl. “I didn’t know she would do that.”

The short laughing bark of Steffie’s reply told me that she wasn’t anywhere as surprised as I was. “You’re joking, right? You already told me that she’s insanely jealous and unstable. Your words, Maddie, not mine. Goddamnit! That’s why I didn’t want to be with you anymore until you two were done. I don’t need this shit in my life.”

“Steffie…”

“No. No more bullshit, Maddie. Don’t call me, text me, or speak to me until you’ve kicked that psycho bitch to the curb. If you would rather be with her than me, fine. But I’m not getting in the middle of a lover’s quarrel.”

Then the call terminated.

I wasn’t totally upset about the fact that Steffie didn’t want to see me anymore. Hell, that solved part of my current dilemmas. What bothered me was the report that Becki had been following me yesterday? Had she followed Maddie before I took over? Is that what their big fight the night of Maddie’s suicide was about?

I also didn’t like the implications that Becki was dangerous. How far would she go off the rails if I broke up with her again? Would she hurt me? Try to hurt one of the kids? Not knowing how much Steffie’s assessment of her rival’s mental state was fact and how much just jealous opinion bothered me.

When the laundry was done and put away, I turned my attention to deciding on what to make for dinner. Devon’s soccer practice ran from 5 until 7, and Kelly’s return time was unknown, so it had to either be something I could throw together quickly, or something I could prepare now and reheat later.

Examining the contents of the fridge, I came up with the idea of doing something like a southwestern chicken dish I remembered someone brought to a potluck picnic Kelly’s firm hosted a couple of years ago. There wasn’t any chicken in sight, nor any in the freezer. Glancing at the clock, I calculated that I had about an hour and a half until I needed to meet Devon at the bus.

I quickly changed into a clean T-shirt and leggings, grabbed my purse and car keys, and headed to the grocery store.

About a half a mile from the house, I noticed the dark green Toyota behind me was making all the same turns. Even going so far as to take the residential shortcut down two private streets.

My palms began to sweat as I considered that it was Becki following me again. Had she been lying in wait down the street. Hoping that I would leave so she could find out where I was going? The implications that getting rid of her wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d hoped made my stomach twice into knots. I wasn’t a violent person before I turned into a cute college coed, and I didn’t think I could really do much if Becki decided to get physical with me.

When I pulled into the parking lot of the shopping center, the Toyota continued on, crossing through the intersection and vanishing over a small rise. Breathing a sigh of relief, I pulled into a spot near the entrance of the grocery store and sat for a bit, letting my nerves settle a bit.

Inside, I almost threw up a hand in greeting at the young man working in the produce section. Gregory had been a lifeguard at the neighborhood pool in high school and had been the one to give both Sheila and Devon swimming lessons. I’d kept in touch with him after he’d gone to college, even going so far as to write a letter of recommendation for an internship which, unfortunately, he didn’t get.

However, since I figured I would get a much different response as a pretty girl close to his own age, I merely walked past him and headed toward the meat section. I selected a couple of packages of chicken, grabbed some flour tortillas, and went back through the vegetables to pick up a couple of bell peppers and some onions.

I had just finished bagging the produce when I sensed someone standing over me. Expecting it to be Gregory, I gathered my nerves and turned around.

Instead, I found myself looking up into the face of a man much older than Gregory. His jet-black hair was cropped close to his skull and peppered with a generous amount of gray. He was dressed in a pair of khaki slacks and a dark blue polo shirt, and his eyes (which were both sort of familiar and completely focused on mine) were an intense shade of lavender.

I opened my mouth to ask if I could help him, preparing to scream at the top of my lungs should I feel threatened when he reached out and took hold of my upper arm. An electric-like tingle shot up the limb, almost like a static shock. I’d barely registered the sensation when he leaned in even closer, his gaze scrutinizing me even more.

“Mike?” He breathed with a sense of wonder and amazement. “Holy shit. It is you.”