Oliver kept busy with all of them, renting skis and boots for them, loading and unloading the car, organizing meals, tucking Sam into bed, keeping an eye on Mel, making sure everyone was properly dressed, and by eight o'clock at night he was exhausted. He could barely get through their evening meal, and at night he fell into bed with Sam. He had decided to share a room with him, in case the child was too lonely. And Sam wet the bed twice, which kept Oliver busy even at night, changing sheets, turning the mattress around, and finding fresh blankets. It was obvious that Sam was deeply distressed, as they all were, but Ollie had his hands so full with them that he hardly had time to think of Sarah. It was only at night, as he lay in bed, that he could feel the ache in his heart, and when he woke in the morning, the pain of the memory of her struck him with the weight of a mountain. It was a little bit as though she had died, and it was only on the third day they were in Vermont that Ollie even brought her name up. He said something about “Mom,” and their heads spun around, each of them wearing the clear evidence of their pain, and he was instantly sorry he had said it.
It was New Year's Day when they drove back, and they were all in better spirits, and looked incredibly healthy. It was when they got home that it hit them again. The house was too quiet, the dog was asleep, and even Aggie was out. And Oliver realized that they had all secretly hoped that Sarah would be waiting for them, but she wasn't. She was long gone, and even though Oliver had her number at the hotel in Cambridge, he didn't call her that night. He put Sam to bed, after Mel helped him make dinner. Benjamin went out. He appeared in the kitchen dressed for what looked like a date as the others sat at the kitchen table.
“So soon?” Ollie smiled. None of them had even unpacked. “Must be someone special.”
Benjamin smiled noncommittally at his father. “Just a friend. Can I borrow the car, Dad?”
“Don't come home late, Son. And be careful. There will still be a lot of drunks on the road tonight.” At least he was grateful that his son was cautious and he knew he never drove if he drank. More than once, Benjamin had called them to pick him up, even if he'd just had a beer or two with friends. Sarah had drummed that into him, that and a lot of other things. She had left her mark on all of them, and now she was gone, and Oliver wondered when she would come home for the much promised weekend. She'd only been gone for six days, and it already felt like a lifetime.
It was strange going to bed alone that night, and he lay in bed thinking about her, as he had all week, and trying to pretend to himself that he really wasn't. At midnight, he finally turned on the light, and tried reading some papers he had brought home from the office. His boss had been a good sport about giving him the week off on such short notice, and he was in better shape now, but not much. He was still awake when Benjamin came home at one o'clock, and stopped in the doorway to say good night. Oliver had left the door open so he could hear Sam, and Benjamin stood looking sadly at him, as he put the car keys down on a table.
“It must be hard on you, Dad … I mean … with Mom gone.”
Oliver nodded. There wasn't much he could say to him. It was hard on all of them. “I guess well get used to it, and she'll come home soon.” But he didn't sound convinced, and Benjamin nodded. “Did you have a good time tonight? It's kind of late to be coming home at this hour on a school night.”
“Yeah … I kind of lost track of the time. Sorry, Dad.” He smiled and said good night. An hour later Oliver heard Sam crying, and he hurried into his bedroom. The boy was still asleep, and Ollie sat down next to him and stroked his head. His dark hair was damp, and eventually he settled down again. But at four o'clock, Oliver felt him slip into bed beside him. The child cuddled up next to him, and Ollie thought about carrying him back to his room, but in truth he found he was grateful to have him near him, and he turned over and went back to sleep. And father and son slept peacefully until morning.
At breakfast the next day, there was the usual chaos. Aggie cooked waffles and bacon for everyone, which was usually a weekend treat, saved only for special occasions. It was as though she knew they needed something special now, and she had packed an extra nice lunch for Sam, with all his favorites. She was going to drive his car pool now, and Ollie left for the train feeling disorganized and rushed, which was unlike him. He had been busy leaving instructions for everyone, and reminded everyone to come home on time and get to work on their homework. That was what Sarah did, wasn't it? Or was it? Everything had always seemed so peaceful when she was there, so in control, and so happy when he left for the office. And once there, he was greeted by a week's stack of work and reports on pending projects. He couldn't leave until seven o'clock that night, and it was close to nine when he got home. Benjamin was out again, Mel was on the phone with friends, and Sam was watching TV in his father's bed, having forgotten to do his homework, and Aggie hadn't pressed him. She told Oliver she hadn't wanted to upset him.
“Can I sleep with you, Dad?”
“Don't you think you should sleep in your own bed, Son?” He was afraid it might become a nightly habit.
“Just tonight? … please … I promise, I'll be good.”
Oliver smiled at him, and stooped to kiss the top of his head. “I'd be a lot happier if you'd done your homework.”
“I forgot.”
“Apparently.” He took off his coat and tie, set down his briefcase near the desk, and sat down on the bed next to Sam, wondering if Sarah had called, but not daring to ask him. “What'd you do today?”
“Nothing much. Aggie let me watch TV when I got home.” They both knew Sarah had never let him do that. Things were changing rapidly without her, a little too much so for Ollie.
“Where's Benjamin?”
“Out.” Sam looked unconcerned.
“So I gathered.” And he was going to have to handle that too. He was not allowed to go out on weekday nights, even if this was his senior year. He was only seventeen, and Ollie wasn't about to let him run wild without Sarah. “Tell you what, champ. I'll let you sleep here tonight, but that's it. Tomorrow you go back to your own bed. Deal?”
“Deal.” They shook hands on it as the child grinned, and Oliver turned off the light.
“I'm going to go downstairs to get something to eat. Get some sleep.”
“G'night, Dad.” He looked happy as he snuggled into the big bed, taking over the half that had been Sarah's.
“Sleep tight …” Oliver stood looking at him for a long moment from the doorway. “I love you.” He whispered the words, and then went to check on Mel. She had dragged the hall phone into her bedroom, and there was disorder everywhere, clothes, books, hot rollers, shoes. It was a wonder she could get into the room at all, and she looked up at her father with a curious look as he waited for her to end the call. But she only covered the receiver with her hand.
“You want something, Dad?”
“Yes. Hello and a kiss might be nice. Have you done your homework?”
“Hello. And yes, I have.” She sounded annoyed even to be asked the question.
“Want to keep me company while I eat dinner?” She hesitated, and then nodded, looking none too pleased. She would have preferred staying on the phone with her friend, but her father had made it sound like a command performance. The truth was, he didn't want to eat alone, and she was the only candidate in the house, other than Aggie.