Archive of Our Own

He managed, just barely, to not get the tail of his coat caught up in the doors as they slid back into place. The book in his hand slipped out of place under his arm, making him shift it back into his hands once he had his backpack properly on his shoulders.

The crowd that accumulated by the door in preparation for their next stop made it difficult for him to squeeze by to the seats, but he got through with a few polite words and straightened his back and shoulders as he passed by in a sideways shuffle. There were a pair of open seats at the back that he plopped down into with a sigh. He removed his bag from his shoulders and into his lap, pulling open his book, and settled it on top like the unsteady desk that it was. 

The train’s movements rocked him back and forth in a soft shift that he had learned to find comforting instead of torturous. There was tea in his system and a tiredness in his bones. This was how Harry spent the morning commutes to work, inside his own mind and pointedly not looking up as that is what one was supposed to do on a train to avoid any unnecessary eye contact.

There was a significant stretch of track to get passed before he needed to worry about listening for his stop, so he was allowed to get lost in the book he had with him. He had vowed that his train rides, both to and from, would have nothing to do with work. They were solely for literature and solely for literature they would be.

Unless, of course, he really needed to. But Harry Greenwood was a master at managing his time so it had never been a problem before. 

Normally he did not look up for anything when he is on the train. Everyone was a stranger to him there and he was the same to them. There was no need for acknowledgement passed a simple smile or nod of his head. He tried not to start conversations until he was spoken to first or if they look to be in a spot of trouble. For the most part though he minded his own business because he knew that everyone was just trying to get to where they were needing to go, not trying to make friends. That’s what pubs were for, after all.

So, it was a bit of a surprise when he felt someone tapping on his shoulder.

It was even more of a surprise when he looked up to find a child staring back at him.

Her brown hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. The bright pink rain coat she wore was buttoned up all the way and her hands were covered in knitted mittens. She smiled, using her hand to point to the open seat beside him.

“Can I sit here?” 

“Er,” he hesitated, looking up the aisle for someone who looked as if they were about to go into hysterics over their missing child. 

“I promise I won’t bother you!” This pulled his attention back to her as she leaned in to whisper, “I’m really good at being quiet.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, miss.” She looked very pleased to be addressed as such, her little shoulders rising as she twisted back and forth. “Are you traveling with someone? Do they know where you are?”

The girl shook her head, hair whipping back and forth behind her. “Nope.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” 

Harry hummed, still not quite convinced because who on Earth would allow a child her age to travel on public transport all alone? That seemed rather unrealistic. He looked again but there was no one who seemed concerned and there wasn’t any panicked screaming to be heard. No one seemed to be paying attention to them at all. Finally, he sighed and returned to the child.

“Well, alright.” He gestured to the seat and she squeed as she claimed it. A smile touched his mouth but he quickly schooled himself back into concentrating on his book. 

Again, a tapping on his shoulder interrupted him. 

“Whatchya reading?”

He looked up from the page to find her leaning in to try and get a peak for herself. With a chuckle he shut the book and presented the front cover to her.

“ Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler,” he read and watched as her eyes crossed over the words as he did so, giving a little nod when she was done.

“What’s it about?”

Harry searched for a place to start. First he explained the setting and then moved toward the main character and what made her different from those around her. 

“I feel like that sometimes,” the girl said once he told her what hyperempathy meant. He frowned, watching her eyes cast downward. Before he could pry further on the subject her face scrunched back up, “What’s science fiction, anyways?”

“Asking the hard hitting questions today, aren’t we?” He struggled to find the right wording for that explanation, having never really thought about it before. But he did find himself incredibly thrilled to have someone willing to let him take his time to answer their questions. This girl was patient, simply staring up at him with her big eyes and listening as he worked to explain the genre in his own words. He gave her the example of The Iron Giant and that made her eyes light up in understanding. 

“Oh! I get it!” she grinned, her whole face brightening. And just as she was about to say something else, someone tugged on her arm and a voice of anger filled the train car instead of hers.

“Maggie! What are you doing? You know we’re not supposed to talk to strangers! You can’t trust anyone! Especially not old white men! Haven’t you seen all those serial killers? What if he kidnapped you, huh? Huh?  You could be dead, Maggie! You could be dead right now!” Another girl, older but not by much, stood there yelling at her. 

Harry, admittedly, couldn’t say anything against this because she isn’t exactly wrong. He could have potentially been a very horrible person. He wasn’t! But that didn’t mean that the girl should have been so trusting of him, nor he so irresponsible to allow her to sit next to him without further investigation into where she had come from. 

Maggie, as the older girl had called her, did not take well to the rant. Harry watched as her lower lip started to wobble and her eyes grew glossy with tears. 

“Mel!” another voice entered the commotion. “I told you to go get her, not scare her!”

“But-!”

“Let go of her arm and go back to the door, please.” There was a brief pause of defiance, the girl sticking up her chin with it until the woman added a terse, “Now.”

The girl, Mel, did as she was told and shoulder past the woman. Maggie sniffled beside him, using the sleeve of her coat to wipe at her eyes. 

Harry finally mustered up the will to look up and watch the woman as she took the place of Mel at Maggie’s side. She crouched down so that she was not looming over the younger girl but was instead looking up at her.

Though the situation was terrifyingly uncomfortable, Harry could not help but notice how beautiful she was. Oddly, he thought that she looked sort of familiar. He knew he had seen her face before somewhere but couldn’t think of where to place it.

Her complexion was darker than both the younger girls, but she possessed the same brown eyes. He could see the relation. But, she was closer to his age than she was to either of the younger girls.

She touched Maggie’s shoulder in an effort to gain her attention. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. I’m not mad, see?” she said and motioned to her face that, while, no, did not look mad, per say, did not look particularly happy either. “But I need you to understand that you cannot do that, Maggie. Always tell me where you’re going. If I didn’t and we got separated that could be really bad. I would be really worried about you.” 

Maggie sniffled. “I would be worried about you, too.”

“See? I always tell you and Mel when I’m going somewhere, don’t I?” 

Maggie nodded.

“Okay. So can you promise that, next time, if you want to sit down, you’ll tell me?”

“I promise,” she said and threw her arms around the woman in a hug. “I’m sorry.”

The woman seemed to soften at this, a smile breaking the stern expression on her face as she returned the girl’s hug. He could see the way her fingers grasped the pink jacked and tightened briefly before she pulled away. She stood to her full height and offered her hand. “Come on, let’s go now.”

“Okay,” Maggie said, sounding disappointed. She turned back to Harry, smiling at him. “Thank you for letting me sit with you.”

He found that he didn’t have the courage to use his voice so all he could do was return her smile and a slight wave. When he dared to look up at the woman, knowing he needed to apologize, he was met with an intense glare. It was enough to make him mash his lips together and shrink into his seat in the hopes that she didn’t kill him outright. Perhaps a light maiming would be appropriate. 

He returned his eyes back to his book, but found he could no longer get his brain to focus on anything passed the same sentence. Forfeiting, he turned his attention out the window instead. Three stops later he saw the three girls making their way across the platform. He caught the eyes of Maggie, who smiled and waved at him with the hand that was not being gripped tightly by the older woman. Harry lifted his hand to return the gesture and she disappeared into the mass of people. 

He would probably never see them again, he knew, trying not to dwell too much on the situation. 

--

It wasn’t until he was able to check his phone late that afternoon that he found where he had seen the woman before. Her picture, blurry as it may have been, was in a local news article that he had been skimming through the other day. Her family’s name was probably the most talked about in Hilltowne’s latest news. Her mother, Marisol Vera, had been a famous author and professor at the local University. She had been murdered a few years back and the trial had been nothing but the talk of the firm he worked for, even though they weren’t involved on either side.

Still, though. A murder trial could get anyone talking, let alone an office of lawyers.

Now they were back in the news due to the custody rights for the two younger girls. 

The stop the girls had gotten off at had been that of the University’s, where the older sister was said to be getting her PhD the media doted on so frequently. As if a woman taking care of two children who was also in a STEM field looking to get her Doctorate was a hindrance rather than a strength.

He spent the rest of his lunch getting caught up with the status of the case, sandwich forgotten on his desk.

--

Harry knew that the odds were against him. There were so many trains going to and from the city in the mornings, he knew that the Vera-Vaughns getting on the same train as himself was a long shot. But still, he wondered.

After work yesterday he had popped by the bookshop around the corner from the office to get his hands on a copy of A Wrinkle in Time , since he could not give up his own. It was a raggedy, mangled thing that he had worn out over all these years.

His heart beat grew faster when he spotted them on the fourth stop after he had stepped on. But his car was at the front of the train, leaving the three girls standing in their place on the platform while he wooshed by. Maggie, though, caught sight of him. Soon enough, the younger girl pulled her sisters through the door to the left of where he was sitting.

The train was fuller than it had been the day before but he managed to grab a window seat. It was one that faced sideways, perpendicular to another pair of seats that were closer. Another person occupied the one next to him, but the two facing forward were free for the taking. 

Maggie made a b-line for the seat nearest to him and gave him a bright smile as she settled in. 

“Hi!” 

“Hello, miss,” he replied with a fond smile of his own.

“Don’t talk to strangers,” Mel, or Melanie as the papers had called her, hissed to her sister as she plopped down beside her. She glared at Harry and he smiled politely anyways. Try as she might, she would never be the rudest person he had ever encountered. He was a lawyer after all.

His attention was then claimed by Ms. Vaughn, who had been left to stand in the aisle with a grip on the handle above her when the train took off again. Harry scrambled to gather his backpack, trying to swallow against his suddenly very dry mouth.

“Would you like to sit down?” he asked, half standing already and gesturing to his seat and then to Ms. Vaughn. 

“No,” she said and he could feel how rigid the word was in the way it slapped him across the face. She turned her attention away from him with a pointedness and he sat back down. Melanie smirked at him in some form of triumph while Maggie looked on with sympathy.

“What’s that?” Maggie shifted onto her knees, using the divot under the window to pull herself up and reach across the space between her seat and his. She pointed to the brand new, very shiny, copy of A Wrinkle in Time was sitting on top of his other book. He smiled, picking it up to show her.

“It’s one of my favorite books,” he told her, watching as her eyes shone when her fingers touched the corner of the cover. They really did a splendid job with the design of it, much more beautiful than the one sitting on his shelf back home. “I read it all the time when I was your age. Still do sometimes, when I need to.”

“What’s it about?” She sat back down properly but leaned forward with intent. He launched into a summary of the book, describing the main characters and their search for their father and he could tell that he had Maggie hanging on every word. 

And, when he glanced her way, Melanie, too. Though she was very good at pretending she was not interested at all with the way she kept trying to focus on her phone screen. But her eyebrows gave her away, creasing when he left them on a cliffhanger so as not to spoil the ending.

“Wow,” Maggie breathed, falling back into her seat with a wistful look in her eye.

“Would you like to read it?” he asked, moving the book toward her. Maggie bit down on her lower lip, doing a poor job of trying to hide the grin forming, and nodded with enthusiasm. Her hand reached out for the book.

“Maggie, Mel,” Ms. Vaughn, who had been silent for the trip until that moment, said, “let’s go.” 

“But Macy, I-” Maggied tried to say.

“I said, let’s go.” And there seemed to be no room for argument as the two girls stood and were pointed toward the door to stand beside until they arrived at their stop. Harry turned to try and give the book to Ms. Vaughn instead but she only glared down at him.

“We do not need your charity,” Ms. Vaughn informed him through a clenched jaw and Harry couldn’t do anything but watch as she tilted her chin up and went to follow her sisters.

He sat back, feeling like a right idiot. 

Of course that was not a rare occurrence for Harry Greenwood. He often felt the same way when Ms. Silver would ridicule him at the office, when none of the other partners would so much as allow him to sit in on a case. Oftentimes he would wonder why they hired him at all, but then was constantly reminded he was there for the trivial work and was more or less everyone’s verbal punching bag that they could take their frustrations out on.

He would get through this just as he did when one of the partners treated him poorly. It would be worth it in the end when he was free to help those who needed it most. And if a young woman in a harrowing situation needed to take it out on him for a moment that day, well then, so be it. Better him than someone else.

Lawyers, you see, were notorious for having thick skin against such insults. 

He only wondered when his would begin to build up so that it wouldn’t sting so badly.

--

The following morning was a blessed Friday. The only thing standing between himself and a quiet weekend was two train rides with work sandwiched in between. He had done this for several years now, he knew that he would be able to make it through to the end of this week as well.

Unfortunately, whatever force that controlled the universe seemed to have it out for him that morning by making one bad thing occur after the next. A broken printer, spilled tea on his white linen shirt, an angry email from Celeste concerning a settlement, and a text from Fiona Callahan asking him to bring her breakfast to top it all off.

Please Harry? 🥺 I’ll do your filing for a week 

It’s Friday.

That’s still a whole day 

Chocolate or blueberry?

Chocolate. 

Outside, the weather was atrocious. And he had grown up in Manchester.

The rain was heavy and unrelenting as it pounded a rhythm against the roof of the train car that was filled to the brim with people. They were dressed in red and gold coloring for whatever sporting event was taking place downtown, probably American football. Unable to find a seat he was left to be smushed into the corner beside the door. The floor beneath his feet was slippery, wet from the passengers tracking in water. Thankfully he had the wall behind him and a pole at his side he could wrap his arm around to keep himself steady. 

Harry was watching a pair of water droplets racing down the window when his eyes refocused on something moving in the background. Three figures were rushing through the tortuous rain and they were none other than the Vera-Vaughn sisters.

It was unrealistic to think that they would make the train as they were still on the other side of the gate when the doors opened. People filed in at a slower pace than normal, having to shuffle and accommodate for the numbers shoving themselves into populated space, but he didn’t think they would make it.

He watched on in conflict as the girls emerged from the station, hustling toward the door just beside him. It was closing and they would be left behind in the cold, miserable weather after having rushed to make it on. He could hear Ms. Vaughn’s voice echoing in his ears, as they had been for the past 24 hours, knowing that if he tried to help it would only be seen as an act of war somehow. Surely another train would be on its way. Then again, public transport could be tricky. And maybe those few minutes would be the difference between late and on time for them.

Harry thrust his hand forward at the last moment, allowing the doors to close around it. The pressure on his palm was uncomfortable but not for long before they were sliding back open and Ms. Vaughn was pushing Maggie and Mel through the entryway. 

Maggie grinned up at him as soon as she saw him, wet stands of her hair sticking to the sides of her face. Harry returned her smile until she was blocked from his view by Ms. Vaughn. She had her back turned to him, hood pulled up over her head so he only made eye contact with the fabric of her jacket. That was fine, better it than her death glare. He didn’t know if he would survive another one.

They were allowed to remain in silence, Harry returning to his book, before the crowd of sports fans began to shout. At first he thought something was terribly wrong, his eyes darting down to the younger girls on the other side of Macy, but he soon realized that the voices were joyus. A chant for their team was rousing them all as they got closer to game time, he supposed, having seen similar occurrences plenty of time in Manchester during football or rugby season.

The passengers began to sway with the chant. The motion forced everyone to expand, trying to maintain personal space. 

In turn, this pushed Ms. Vaughn further into his space. He could see her getting closer and closer from over the top of his book. In her effort to get away from them, she was only inching back closer to him. So close that when the doors opened at the next stop and those that needed to get off or get on were maneuvering through the masses of bodies she lost her grip on the railing and was forced to use him to catch her fall. 

Her back was pressed to his front. His hands had been forced to his chest, book knocking against his chin. There was an elbow in his ribs, and her head bumped into his nose in her effort to get away. He released one hand from his book to catch a hold of her upper arm when she lost balance again on the slippery floor. He guided her arm to the pole beside him, and she used it to stabilize herself. In order to do so, she turned to face him.

“Are you alright?” he managed to get out, which he prided himself on sounding decent when he was looking into eyes such as hers.

She did not answer, only pushed herself away from him and reached back up to grip the handle above her to gain some distance. Knowing that he best not cause a row in the middle of public transport with a woman who was already under enough scrutiny (again), Harry pressed himself back further against the wall and opened his book, not saying anything further. He balanced it in the crook of his elbow, allowing it to lay back against his forearm. 

At the next stop, as people piled in and out, he clenched his jaw and forced his eyes to remain on the page as Ms. Vaughn was pushed back up against him. He could feel her huffing more so than he could hear it, but eventually they were off again. This happened every time they made a stop, even forcing her to turn and face him at the last one. He tried not to notice.

A few more minutes passed before a question broke through to him.

“You read Octavia Butler?”

Harry lowered the book from where he had been hiding behind its pages, like he always did, to Ms. Vaughn’s eyes. They were still guarded, still unsure, but they were offering him an olive branch of sorts. He managed to keep himself from snatching his hold of it, instead using a cautious hand.

“Yes,” he replied, nodding to the book. “I’ve read most of her work, she’s brilliant. But that’s no secret of course.”

“You’ve read most of her work?”

“...yes.”  

“I didn’t peg you for a science fiction kind of guy.” Her eyes narrowed and searched for something. He had no idea what it was she was looking for or what it was she would find. Beside the shade of pink he was turning under her gaze. The girls’ stop was being announced over the speakers.

He lifted a brow, watching as the doors slid open but needing to ask before she could leave, “And what did you peg me for?”

Harry watched in awe as her expression softened, the barest hint of amusement in the corner of her eyes. She pulled her jacket more firmly against her and said, “Historical fiction.”

Then she was getting off the train. As Maggie passed by him he pulled A Wrinkle in Time from his backpack, handing it to her. Harry pressed his forefinger to his lips and watched as Maggie stuffed the book into her coat. 

--

“What’s got your panties all in a twist?”

The voice of Fiona Callahan was sudden and lacked any warning. It pulled him form where he had been focused on work with a start, causing her to laugh at him. He glared at her in return as she sat herself on the edge of his desk. 

“Or is it knickers?” 

“Why do you have a need to know everything?” Harry sighed.

“Because it is my duty as your best friend to know what’s bothering you. And it’s your duty, as my best friend, to tell me what’s bothering you so I can find it and kick its ass.” She smiled, then shrugged. “And because you know I’ll find out anyways.”

Harry sighed, defleating in defeat since he knew that she was right. “Have you heard anything about the custody case that’s been in the news recently?”

She hummed, eyes narrowing, and then nodded slowly. “Right...yeah, the kids of that professor that was killed?”

“Yes.”

“Why’s that got your attention?” Fiona scoffed. “The older sister’s got some state lawyer that doesn’t know what he’s doing. There’s nothing to write home about there, the kids’ll get put into the system if they don’t have the dad there and it’ll be done with.”

“You do remember that these are human beings, don’t you? Not just bank accounts?”

“Always so sentimental, Harry,” she said, fond. “But you know as well as I do that they aren’t going to let her keep custody. The girl’s going for her PhD, has no money, and no idea how to take care of kids. Let alone a teenager.” 

“She’s been doing so since her mother was murdered, Fiona,” he argued, watching his friend’s facial expression very carefully to notice the subtle changes that were there. Something shifted and he knew that her empathy was still intact behind her facade, but she quickly hid herself behind a curious stare of narrowed, knowing, eyes.

“You like her.” He did not have to say anything, their prolonged eye contact and his inability to keep said staring contest up in favor of busying himself with organizing his desk that did not need to be organized whatsoever, gave him away. Her lips curled into a smirk. “You do! You like her! Oh my god, have you even met her?”

“Not in the...conventional term, but-”

“But?”

“But I have spoken with her. On the occasion.”

“When?”

“She and her sisters take the same train as I do in the morning.”

Fiona shuddered. “I always forget you take public transport. You have a car.”

“Why would I take my car when the train is perfectly fine? It helps the environment and saves me money. Not all of us could go to school without being buried in loans, you know.” 

“If you would let me help-”

“I have already told you-”

“Then we could live together again-”

“Because that went so well last time-”

“I miss having you around-”

“What you miss is my cooking and inability to have a full sink of dirty dishes.”

She smiled and shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe.”

“I wouldn’t want to live in the city again, anyways. I’d never be able to sleep. The suburbs are quiet on the weekends, which I need after five days of working here.”

He thought of his small flat and the window he read next to. A cup of tea at his side and a book in his lap. It was a bit cramped, yes, and he could do with a yard to garden in but it did the trick. He could also do with people, that was for sure. His neighbors were kind and he had made nice with those that were friendly enough to engage in conversation. And even those that were not. But he did not know them passed seeing them on the sidewalk during a false fire alarm and when he had made too many Yorkshire puddings to eat on his own.

He had Fiona, but she was a very busy woman these days trying to prove herself the front runner instead of her older sister. She was always busy. Always working. She answered his calls, most of the time, and she had always been a good friend. But she was the star of her own story, Harry the supporting character. He was fine with this. Of course he was, he had supported her through every step she had taken since plopping down next to him in their freshman year of highschool, his first day in an American public school, and asked him why he dressed like he was 50 instead of 15. 

Passed Fiona, there was Tessa, a terrifying paralegal. She had not liked him at first despite Harry having done nothing wrong. He knew she saw him as her competition and he had told her that he had no intention of staying with the firm after he had paid his dues. Tessa had only thought him to be playing her to get her to let her guard down. And how could he blame her? 

But when Harry had stuck up for her to one of the partners Tessa had decided that he was worth her time. Recent as their friendship was, he could tell that she was as loyal as he was. It had become clear to the both of them that if they were going to survive their time in this job that they needed an ally. 

Other than that he had no one. His parents were dead, there was no extended family to be heard of, and between law school and studying for the Bar he had been turned into a recluse. The firm kept him cooped up in his office, unable to meet clients or have any in depth conversations with his other coworkers. Most of them did not even know he existed and were surprised upon hearing that he did. 

He missed people. He missed Fiona, but he could never tell her that because she would say she was right there! Just look! 

But when he did he could see her fading and reappearing into a new life. One without him in it. It scared him because she was all he had left, and when she was gone there would only be him and his books like it was the year after his parents died.

“Whatever you say,” Fiona said, sliding off the edge of his desk. She rounded the corner and playfully punched him in the shoulder. An accusing finger wagged in his face. “I expect updates on this woman, Harry.”

“It’s nothing, Fiona. Less than nothing, actually. She told me to piss off,” Harry sighed, smoothing a hand down his tie as he thought of Ms. Vaughn’s harsh eyes focused in on him. 

Fiona rolled her eyes and retreated toward the exit. She stopped at the door and turned, lips scrunched to one side. “Has she said anything else?”

“She doesn’t need my pity,” he repeated, trying to keep his tone light and humorous so that she couldn’t detect the hurt he felt upon remembering. Their most recent conversation touched his mind and that made him huff in amusement, at least. “Oh, and that she thought my preferred genre of book would be historical fiction.”

She snorted. “Isn’t it?”

“No.” Fiona lifted a brow and he sighed. “Fine, yes it is. But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“Right.” She nodded and then he watched as a little smile formed in the corners of her mouth. It was her I’m up to something smile and from his former experiences with Fiona and this particular smile nothing good ever followed as a result. “So what are you going to do?”

“In regards to what?”

“To the girl!”

“Nothing. I’m going to leave her alone and hope that I’m able to avoid her and her sisters at any cost for as long as we continue to take the same train.”

“That’s probably for the best. She’s going through a lot right now.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Taking care of her sister while going to school and dealing with the law?” Fiona blew out a breath, strands of her hair flying and falling back into place. “I couldn’t imagine.”

“Neither could I.”

“What could you, a lawyer, possibly have to offer her, a woman going through a custody case?” She scoffed and shook her head. He did not appreciate the sarcasm.

“Fiona, you know very well that your colleagues would never allow me to take that job. And they would all charge her way beyond what she could afford. It’s why she’s got the representation she does now. And! Most importantly! She has already conveyed quite clearly that she does not need anyone’s help. Especially mine.”

“Right, no, of course. Like I said, you have nothing to offer her.”

“I don’t.”

“I know.”

“Fiona.”

“I said I know , Harry.” Still the smirk on her face told him otherwise. Fiona tossed him a wave and proceeded toward the door to his office. “See you on Monday!”

-- 

The weekend, as it always did, seemed short lived. 

Monday he felt jipped on sleep but otherwise fine as he took a seat on the train. He had not thought about the Vera-Vaughn sisters at all the past two days and planned on keeping it that way. 

That was until Ms. Vaughn herself was sitting next to him, her two sisters sitting in the seats across the aisle. 

“Er,” was all he managed to say when he looked up to take in the situation. 

“Hi!” Maggie waved at him from her seat, the book he gave her sitting on her lap with a pink bookmark sticking out the top. Harry glanced to Ms. Vaughn and she seemed to approve of him. For the moment. 

“Good morning,” he replied, then pointed to the book. “How’s it going?”

“It’s soooo good! I’ve been reading it all weekend!” She grinned and hugged the book to her chest. “Do they find their dad?”

“You’ll have to read the rest of the book to find out.”

She pouted but quickly pried the book open and set to picking up wherever it was she left off. Harry smiled, and waved in greeting to Mel who only rolled her eyes and shoved a pair of headphones into her ears. 

This would leave only one sister left. He sat back in his seat with a sigh and began to start reading his own book once again. 

“Oh, so, I don’t get a good morning?” 

He blinked and then turned to Ms. Vaughn who was looking at him with raised eyebrows. Harry felt the heat of his blush and scrambled around his words. An amused smile picked up the corners of her mouth.

“I’m terribly sorry. Uh, I just assumed you wouldn’t want-”

“I know. It’s alright.” For the first time he could see a sliver of embarrassment in her features as her eyes found the floor. When she looked back up at him he did his best to convey openness and nonjudgement. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you before. You were only trying to be nice and I wasn’t very...pleasant.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I understand.” He glanced at the two younger girls. “You were protecting your family. I should have known better than to trust a child was aboard the train on their own.”

“True.” Ms. Vaughn giggled. “So why did you?” 

“Well, I used to take the train alone when I was going to primary.” 

“...primary?” 

“The accent didn’t give me away?” He smiled. “Yes, primary. I used to live in England before I came to America. “ 

“Ah, I see.” 

They both nodded and a silence settled between them. He wanted to ask her something else to keep her talking as her voice had a lovely lit to it. But he could think of nothing without wondering if he would offend her with it or ruin this moment of peace between them. 

Thankfully, she asked the question for him.

“New book today?”

“Oh, yes.” Harry stuck his thumb between the pages to keep his place as he closed it to sgiw the front cover. 

“ Deep Water ,” she read aloud. “More sci-fi?”

“No. This is a psychological thriller.” 

“Huh, I guess I really did have you all wrong.” 

“Well, no, not entirely. I will admit that I have read a lot of historical fiction, but I enjoy switching it up now and then.” She smiled at this and he could feel it warming his chest. “I must ask though, what gave me away?”

“The accent, partly.” Ms. Vaughn smiled wider under his unimpressed look. “What? It makes you sound like one of the actors in those BBC adaptations.” 

“Was that all?”

“No, no, it was also the get up.” She motioned to his clothing. “Nice shoes and a tailored suit. I’ve seen you, what, four days now? And always really early in the morning, but yet you look put together every time. Just seemed like you would be into the stuffy side of life.” 

“I...don’t know whether I’ve just received a compliment or an insult.” 

“It was both.” 

He hummed, nodding as he took in that information and not really sure how to respond to it either.

“So, what are you then? A librarian?”

“Why? Because I like to read?”

“And because you knew what book to give a kid who would usually rather watch tv or makeup tutorials. The outfits don’t hurt either.”

“No, I’m not. Though that is looking like a more appealing option right about now.” Unfortunately if he looked for that kind of job he would be in debt for the rest of his life. “I just...enjoy reading is all.”

“Uh huh.” 

“Does that mean you don’t?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, that is why I asked.”

“I haven’t had time to read since high school. Not for entertainment, anyways.” She shook her head. “The only things I’ve been reading are textbooks and research papers. I don’t mind it but it’s not like it’s really all that fun.”

“I understand.” He hadn’t been able to read for fun during his time at school either. Every free moment went to studying or class or work. “Well, one day I’m sure you’ll be able to again.”

“It sure doesn’t seem like it.” 

He frowned, watching as her mood sunk down. And that just would not do. He knew that her life was probably filled to the brim with moments like this and he didn’t want to be a part of that. He wanted the moments spent with him to stand out, to have some level of happiness inside of them. Even if they were just content, places where it was neither bad nor good. 

“Ask me something else.” 

This seemed to startle her as her eyes widened when they looked at him. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she decided on something. “Why?”

“Just ask,” he insisted. “Anything, anything at all. Ask away.”

He could tell that she was still skeptical but she nodded anyways. “Okay. What’s your name?”

“Harry,” he held out his hand to her. “Harry Greenwood.”

She smiled at this and took his hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Harry. I’m Macy Vaughn.”

The warmth of her palm against his was enough to make him melt. 

--

The next three weeks seemed to follow this same pattern. Macy or Maggie would find him and would take up the seats around him in order to have a conversation. It would start with him answering her questions because he still felt as if he didn’t have the right to ask her anything personal. She hadn’t given her permission as he had, but that was alright. And then once she found a conversation topic to participate in their flow would be an easy back and forth. 

They were quite good at arguing with one another. She would often cite science or logic or reason while he tended to quote authors or speak to morality and emotion. This always made her bristle and he enjoyed seeing her scowl at him. 

But their conversations were pleasant and while she didn’t often speak about herself, he had learned quite a bit about Macy Vaughn.

She was smart. Smarter than any person he had ever met. It was obvious in the way she spoke about her work and research. He didn’t quite understand what she was saying most of the time but she had caught onto this and had taken to breaking it down into simpler terms. Her brain worked so rapidly it was interesting to watch her as she worked through something as she spoke. It was mesmerizing. The way her eyes searched and lit up. The way her fingers would dance along the papers in front of her as she read over the project. Just getting to be a witness to seeing her speak on it, to hear the passion in her voice, it was a rare gift indeed. 

She was a coffee drinker. Not often did she have a thermos with her, but the day she did she looked tired. As if she hadn’t woken up early enough to be fully coherent or to be able to drink her coffee while she was still at home. She took it with a bit of almond milk. 

She could read Latin, having boasted this to him when he complained about the very language making too many appearances in modern media for the sake of looking cool. It was lazy writing, he had insisted and she had gotten offended. 

She almost majored in music instead of science. She liked dogs more than she did cats, but wouldn’t mind either if it came down to it. She was defensive and stubborn. She didn’t know how to handle his compliments, only answering with soft thank yous and shaking her head. She would sacrifice her own visage for her sisters because while Maggie and Melanie were always dressed and put together, Macy sometimes looked as if she could have done with just ten more minutes. 

Maggie, having finished her book the first week, liked to be a part of the conversation, too. And when Melanie saw this, she began to engage as well. 

He learned about them, too. 

Melanie was 16 years old and Maggie 8. Too young to be going through what they had and still were. 

With Macy’s permission, Harry had started bringing books to Maggie. One after the other and they would always discuss them when she was finished. She was very smart, very intune with the motivations of the characters she read. It was stunning to think that a girl her age could understand empathy at the level she did.

Melanie was very angry, and Harry could understand why. She had lost her mother and was in the middle of losing her sisters, too. Oftentimes she would get upset after realizing that she was having a good time talking with the three of them and say something mean to Harry in an effort to turn the conversation into something unpleasant. 

He never took her bait. 

“Why are you even talking to us?” she asked him one day. He sat next to Maggie, both Melanie and Macy sitting in the two seats in front of them. “Are you just lonely or something?”

“Mel,” Macy warned. 

“What? Like you don’t find it super weird?” She turned back to Harry, glaring at him. “Seriously, what do you want from us?” 

“Mel!”

“No, no, it’s alright,” he said, holding up his hand to keep Macy from getting any angrier. “She’s right. I am lonely. My parents died when I was a little younger than you. We had just moved here to America, something that I did not want to do, and then they died. Leaving me here, alone, with no other family so I was stuck here in your foster system. I was too old by then for anyone to want to adopt me, so I’ve been on my own ever since.” 

A silence settled over everyone as the three girls simply stared at him. 

Maggie, in sympathy.

Melanie, with guilt.

And Macy...well he couldn’t quite tell what Macy was thinking about him now. She probably pitied him. Most everyone did when he told them. 

“So, yes, I have enjoyed getting to know you all. I apologize if that has made you uncomfortable, Melanie. I never meant to intrude.”

“It’s okay, Har,” Maggie piped up. She wiggled a hand under his elbow so that she could intertwine her arm with his. “Mel’s just angry because you’re nicer than she is.”

“He is not!” Melanie scoffed.

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“He is too!”

Harry smiled, fond, and looked up from their bickering to find Macy’s eyes still on him.  

--

The following Thursday was normal enough. The three girls found him and began chatting away among one another. He was always content to listen, enjoying the comfort level they had evolved to in order for them to talk about gossip in front of him. Like how Maggie made fun of Melanie’s crush on a girl in her English class. Obviously she did, despite her denial, from the shade of red her cheeks turned. And how Maggie had staged a sting operation for the person stealing her friend Lucy’s glitter pens. Or how Macy griped about her professors for their one lined emails. 

He spoke when prompted, but other than that, allowed them to carry on. Everything seemed well enough. Until the stop before their own was called.

Both Maggie and Mel ceased talking to exchange a look. Then they eyed their older sister.

“What?” Macy asked, looking between the two of them. At the raise of Mel’s eyebrows she cringed. “Oh, guys, come on. I said-”

“We know what you said, but you should still ask him anyways,” Melanie said with a roll of her eyes. “It’s not that big a deal.”

Harry didn’t want to presume they were talking about him but then Macy glanced at him with fleeting eyes and he couldn’t help the curiosity that filled his veins. What was she reluctant to ask him? Didn’t she know by now that he was an open book? Anything she asked of him he would answer. Anything. 

“No, I already said no.”

“Oh come on, Mace.”

“Mel.”

“Macy.”

In the seat in front of him, Maggie popped up. She smiled bright and wide before asking, “Harry, can you come over for dinner tomorrow?” 

“Maggie!” Macy gasped from beside him.

“What?” the little girl replied before ignoring her sister again. “Please come, Harry! Macy makes the best cupcakes you’ve ever eaten. And we can play Mario Kart! But I have to be Bowser. You can have Yoshi though, Mel won’t mind.” 

“Who said?” Melanie scoffed.

“I did. Duh,” Maggie replied. “So will you come, Harry? Pleeeeease?” 

“Maggie, if he doesn’t want to come, he doesn’t have to,” Macy said.

“But he has to come!” she pouted, bouncing impatiently in her seat.

“No, he doesn’t. You didn’t ask if he was busy! And bribing him isn’t the answer.”

“Maybe, and I know this is a crazy idea,” Melanie cut in, “you should let him reply.”

All three girls turned their attention to Harry then, who had been sitting in stunned silence ever since Maggie had asked him the question. It had been a long time since he had been asked to go anywhere, let alone been invited into someone else’s home to share a meal. It was ridiculous to feel so touched by the offer, he knew, but still, it affected him quite drastically. For the three of them to have even discussed such a thing was more than enough to make his heart feel light.

They had only ever had conversations like this. On the train. They had never discussed moving their relationship past what it was and he had been fine with that. He would have taken anything they offered him and if a half hour train ride was all they were willing to give then so be it. But now they were trying to expand it and with letting him into their home, no less. 

Somewhere that was up in the air as to whether or not it would truly be their home much longer by whichever way the judge decided. 

“I would love to come to dinner,” he finally said and then turned to Macy. “If that’s alright with you, of course.” 

“What?” she asked at first and he went to clarify but it seemed it was only rhetorical before she continued on, full speed ahead. “No! I mean- no! Yeah! Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? It’ll be fun. It’ll be...yeah, uh...so are you allergic to anything? Dietary requirements? Just so I don’t end up trying to feed you something you don’t like and then everything gets all awkward and then we end up having to give you the boxed mac and cheese in the pantry and-”

“Mace,” Melanie hissed, shoving her elbow into her sister. 

Harry had to press his lips together firmly in order to not smile. “Anything is fine, thank you. I can even help cook if you’d like, I tend to be very good at it.” 

“But you’re the guest,” Macy shook her head. “No way.”

“I insist.” She had not snapped at him or gotten angry. She had not made it seem like he was trying to pity them by offering to do something nice. He wondered where it was along the way he had been able to gain her trust. “How long has it been since someone’s cooked for you instead of the other way around?” 

“A...while.” Her eyes glanced away from him and her hand reached up to touch the pendant that always hung around her neck. He couldn’t say to know for sure, but she always seemed to touch it when she was thinking about her mother. 

“Then please, allow me to. I haven’t been able to cook for anyone else in ages! You’ll be doing me a favor, really.” 

“If you’re sure...”

“I am.”

“Then okay.” She smiled and then her face turned serious as she pointed a finger at him. “But I get to make dessert.”

“It’s all yours.” 

“Yay!” Maggie giggled before launching into an explanation about all the things she was going to show him when he came over. Before their stop came to an end Melanie asked for his phone and wrote their address into the notes app while and texted Macy so that they would have one another’s information. She also texted herself. 

“Don’t bug me,” she griped, tossing his phone back at him as she stood to follow her sisters off the train. Melanie slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way down the aisle. She paused and turned back to him. “Unless, you know, it’s important. Or whatever.”

Harry gave her a soft smile in return, nodding. “And you may contact me whenever you’d like. Even if it’s not important.” 

She acknowledged this with a wave and hurried after her sisters. 

--

“Who’re you texting? I know it’s not me and I just walked by Tessa on a call with someone,” Fiona asked as she strutted into his office. 

“No one,” he said, tucking his phone back into the inside pocket of his suit. He could feel it vibrate against his chest, giving him away. Fiona narrowed her eyes at him. Harry tried to remain calm, to not allow her to see his tells. Unfortunately she was very good at seeking them out.

“Oh my God!” she gasped, mouth agape. She shut the door and shoved the files he had been working through out of her way so she could sit on his desk beside him. “Tell me everything. Now.”

“There’s nothing to tell!”

“Harry.”

“Fiona.”

“Is this really how you want to play this?” she asked, leaning back and crossing her arms over her middle. “Are you sure?”

He thought it over for a moment and finally, as she knew he would, relented with a hefty sigh. “Fine. I’m making her and her sisters dinner tomorrow night.”

“You invited them over?”

“No, actually. They invited me to their home.”

“But you’re the one cooking?” She laughed. “Typical Harry. Always taking care of everyone else but himself.” 

“I wanted to do something nice for her. Them. Their mother was taken from them, she’s probably had to cook every meal for the three of them on top of everything else. I’m sure feeding an 8 year old is hard enough, let alone with a custody case looming over her head.” 

“Hey, I get that. I think it’s very sweet of you.” Fiona reached out to give his knee a pat. “I also think it’s a good move on your part. She won’t be able to resist your cooking. You’ll have her eating out of the palm of your hand. Literally.”

“We’re friends,” he insisted. “Nothing more. I highly doubt she’s in the place to be dating right now anyways. And I’m sure she could use a friend.”

“So are you going to ask to help out with her case?”

“I…” he hesitated before shaking his head. “No. Cooking dinner is one thing, offering something like that would be completely different. She would think it would be me pitying her all over again.”

“Have you asked her before?”

“No.”

“Does she even know you’re a lawyer?”

He blinked, eyebrows furrowing as he thought about that. “...no, actually.”

“Then you don’t know what she’s thinking. Maybe she would jump at the chance to get more help.” She shrugged. “Anyways, what brought on her asking you to dinner? And when did you get her number?”

“We’ve only been communicating on the train these past few weeks, but I don’t know what possessed them to ask me to dinner.” It was a mystery that he didn’t know that he was brave enough to find the answer to. “And I only got it today so that I could have the details for tomorrow.”

“Is that what you’re texting about now?” Fiona asked, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

“Yes, actually,” he said with his words announciated. “She was just telling me that Maggie is vegan-ish. And she’s 8, you know, so I’ll have to find something that she’ll actually eat while still catering to the other two. Maybe I should make two dishes? One for her and one for the three of us? Then again, she may feel left out if she isn’t eating what we are.” 

When he looked up, Fiona was staring at him with a fond smile on her face. She shook her head.

“What?” he asked. 

“Nothing, nothing, it’s just…I’m happy they have you, Harry.” She stood and leaned forwards to place a kiss to his forehead. When she pulled back he smiled up at her until she grabbed a hold of his tie and tugged him forwards until they were nose to nose. “But so help me God, if I’m not the first phone call you make after tomorrow night, I will not hesitate to bust down your door Saturday morning. Understood?”

He chuckled but nodded anyways, knowing that she was completely serious.

--

The trip to the grocery store took longer than usual. He had to check off everything at least three times every time he placed something new into the cart. Macy had assured him that they would have any piece of cooking equipment he would need and then had called him to insist that he not do anything too fancy. 

“Why?” he asked into the phone squished between his shoulder and ear as he pushed his cart along. “You don’t think Melanie and Maggie would like a spicy boudin blanc with poached eggs and leeks?” 

“...you know how to make that?” 

“It’s only sausage,” he replied. “But, no, you don’t have to worry.” 

“ Only , he says.” He could hear her sigh and wished he could feel it, too.

“So,” Harry continued before the silence could build any further, “when should I arrive?”

“Uh...well Maggie gets out of school at 2:45 but Mel gets out at 3:30, so she picks her up on their way to meet me when I get out at 4:00 to ride the train, so anytime after 5:00 probably.” He opened his mouth to reply but she cut him off with a frustrated sound. “Sorry, I don’t know why I just said all of that instead of just saying 5:00.” 

“It’s alright. I don’t mind,” he told her, and it was true. He enjoyed hearing her voice, even when she was talking in circles. Though she only tended to do that when she was nervous, it made him wonder what was on her mind now to cause it. School most likely. “I’ll see you sometime after 5:00 then. And I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

“Thank you.” Her voice sounded quieter than before and it made him stop in the middle of the aisle to focus solely on the phone call. 

“It’s no problem.”

“No, really,” she said and his fingers tightened around the phone, “thank you. This...you don’t have to be this nice. After the first couple of impressions I made, I…”

“As I said before, I understand. You’re a very good big sister, and you were only protecting them. You couldn’t have known who I was.”

“Or who you would become.” 

It suddenly occurred to him that this was the first conversation they’d had without the audience of her sisters. Maggie wasn’t there to giggle or ask questions. Melanie wasn’t there to make a snide comment. It was just Macy. 

“Someone in good standings, I hope?” He didn’t intend to sound so vulnerable, just wanted to crack a light joke. 

“Yes. And if you can cook as good as you say then you may even be promoted to very good standings.” 

Harry managed to chuckle and the sound of her own mingling with his made it all the better. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

--

Work was far more bearable when there was something to look forward to. Like that light at the end of the tunnel everyone always referenced. Even when Ms. Silver was ripping into him when he had delivered her the research she’d asked him to do for her. She hadn’t even opened the file. He had simply nodded and wished her a good day before returning to his office. Nothing would ruin his good mood. He left on time, not staying a minute over, and was back home to gather his supplies and pile it all into his car. 

The Vera-Vaughn house was beautiful. He’d checked the address twice before realizing he was, in fact, in the right place. It was at least two stories tall with a large porch that wrapped around to the side of the house as well as the front. Even its coloring was pretty, with a brick red wood paneling and an almost light turquoise for the pillars and trim. The front garden was more shrubbery than it was grass with a tree far enough away from the house that it didn’t keep it hidden. Plants also hung in pots on the porch, well taken care of by the looks of their flourishing flowers. 

He took each step up to the front door slowly, his eyes trying to take in every detail of the place. The outdoor furniture, the leaves that had accumulated, the windows, the very large and intimidating door that stood before him. It hadn’t occurred to him to be nervous, too busy thinking about everything that he couldn’t forget, until he was staring at that door.

His arms were full with the food and he began to try freeing one of his hands to knock. 

Maggie opened it before he could.

“Harry! You’re here!” she cried, looking up at him with such excitement he almost didn’t believe that he was the one she was addressing. 

“Hello, Maggie,” he smiled. “How was your day?”

She breathed in, ready to reply, but Mel drug her back with both hands on the younger sister’s shoulders. “Come in and put your stuff down before you get her started.”

“Ah, right.” Harry blinked down at the threshold and carefully stepped over it. One foot, then the other. Nothing drastic happened. He looked back up to the girls, “Where’s Macy?”

“Upstairs. School thing. She’ll be down in a minute.”

“And the kitchen?” 

“This way,” Mel said with a flick of her head. She turned and Maggie followed after her, waving at Harry to hurry up. But the interior of their house had caught his attention.

Their coats, including Maggie’s very pink rain jacket, hung to the right of the door. No one seemed to have their own definitive hook so much as whichever one they came into contact with first earned their coat for the time being. Their living room was the first room on the right, and just beyond that looked to be the dining room. The foyer was beautiful, the rug below his feet plush and vibrant even still. A large staircase that led up to the first level stood before him and behind it looked like a small library. 

He walked toward it, following after the girls, and saw a stack of the books he had given Maggie sitting on the bench. A Wrinkle in Time was sat on top of them all. He smiled down at it as he passed by to get to their kitchen.

And what a kitchen it was. Plenty of counter space that sat along two of the walls. The sink was under a window that looked out at their back garden. To the right of him looked to be some sort of sun room behind the dining room. There were stairs that led down to doors to the back garden. A perfect spot for reading the paper with a cup of tea. 

He rested the groceries on the island that sat in the middle of their kitchen where both Maggie and Mel were seated at the bar stools. Harry looked at them and they looked at him with knowing smiles. 

“...what?” he asked, smiling nervously. “Have I got something on my face?”

“Yeah. Your face,” Mel said. “So, what’re you making?” 

“Curry.” He began pulling the food from their places in the bag to rest on the counter. “Are you two here to watch me?”

“Yes!” Maggie said.

“To make sure you don’t burn the place down.”

“Would you mind helping me, then?” he asked. “It’ll make all this go quicker so we can eat faster.”

“Yes!” Maggie said, again.

“Whatever,” Mel said. 

In no time the kitchen was alive. As he went about getting acquainted with the room it was clear to him just how much of a home this house was. Every corner of it was filled with something. Every shelf had a memento, every frame a picture. All the cabinets had something inside of it, no place left unused. It was warm and cozy and lived in. 

Both girls had helped him find all the utensils he needed as he asked. Maggie had measured out the rice and water and Mel had set it on the stove top to boil. They had washed the vegetables and while he had chopped them up, they had measured out the spices. Now Mel was on stirring duty as he and Maggie went about setting the table. Maggie had insisted they use the dining room instead of the kitchen table.

That was how Macy found them when she finally came downstairs.

“You made it,” she said, smiling at him from the entry way into the living room. He nearly let the plate he had been holding slip out of his hands. 

“Yes,” he breathed and then cleared his throat. He looked down at the table as he set the plate down in its place for a moment to gather himself before he returned to meet her gaze. “Yes, I did.”

“I’m sorry I had a-”

“Please,” he cut her off, raising a hand. “You’ve no need to apologize. I don’t mind. Your sisters have been very hospitable.”

“And we helped make dinner!” Maggie grinned, running over to grab Macy’s hand to tug her toward the kitchen. “Mel did, too!”

Macy’s eyebrows furrowed together at this and she looked up to Harry who nodded in confirmation. She allowed herself to be led into the kitchen. He watched until they disappeared around the corner before taking a deep, stabilizing, breath and getting back to setting the table.

Dinner was served shortly after and much to Harry’s relief, everyone seemed to enjoy the food. Even Maggie, who went back for a second helping. 

And, oddly, it went rather well. It felt the same as it usually did when they were having conversation on the train, only the setting had changed. That, he found, was for the better, though. The girls didn’t try to put a lid on who they were for the sake of the public’s eye. 

Maggie was more Maggie than Harry had ever seen her. Being so young, she was less restrained than her older sisters, but as he had observed she was very in tune as to what others were feeling. On the train, she knew to be quiet like her sisters. But here, in the safety of their own house, she was talkative. He had already known this, of course, only now he knew to what extent. Maggie was very charismatic and it showed through now that there was nothing to dampen her light.

Melanie was less hostile. In a setting that brought her comfort Harry could see the softness that she protected with her barbed wire. She was no less sharp with her wit or blunt nature, but she didn’t intend to cause harm with it now. The sibling squabbles were teasing and said with smiles on her face. She rolled her eyes less and it was a more fond gesture than annoyance. Her movements weren’t as if she were coiled up tight, ready to burst, but carefree and natural. 

And Macy...Harry wished he could always see her when she was like this. The tension in her shoulders was next to unnoticeable. She laughed more. Or rather, she allowed herself to laugh. Normally she hid her smiles and giggles behind her hand, palm pressed against her lips to keep the lyrical sound of it from growing any louder. In the comfort of her own home, with no strangers for audience members, she laughed without barriers to hinder it. It reached him from the other side of the table where he had already been locked in on her bright smile. 

All in all, it was a rather easy affair that he had not expected. There was hardly any awkwardness laced into the conversations and by the end of it, everyone seemed rather content. 

Except for Maggie, of course.

“Desert!” she said, hefting her fork into the air like a sword in the hands of a knight leading her army into battle. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll be right back,” Macy said, moving to stand.

“Do you need any help?” he asked but was dismissed with a wave of her hand before she disappeared back into the kitchen.

True to Maggie’s word the cupcake that was sat down before him was unlike anything Harry had ever eaten before. He had thought he was full with dinner but ended up eating two altogether. 

The evening winded down after their desert and he could not help to feel a bit remorseful at the loss of it already. It had been pleasant to be among the sisters at their most comfortable, able to watch as their personalities came through around one another. And while they were a tight knit trio they had not made him feel excluded, sharing their jokes and stories behind their words with him at will. 

“You have to come back soon!” Maggie insisted as she hugged him tightly to her. They were stood in the foyer with Mel as Macy had tasked her younger sisters with seeing their guest to the door. She lifted her head to peer up at him. “We didn’t even get to play Mario Kart.” 

“Rain check. I promise,” he said and it earned him a wide smile with a squeal to accompany. She pulled away and stepped back beside Melanie.

“Well,” she sighed when he turned his attention to her, “thanks for the food.”

“Thank you for helping me with said food.”

She smiled and nodded before grabbing hold of her sister’s shoulders to guide her toward the stairs, “Come on, bedtime.”

“Night, Harry!” Maggie called over her shoulder as they climbed the staircase. He gave the pair of them one final wave before they disappeared from the landing above. Harry turned his attention to the sounds coming from the kitchen beyond. Macy had told them that she would be there in a moment to see him off. 

He hesitated, the thought of slipping out without waiting would be rude but standing in her foyer as if he was entitled to her farewell did not seem like a favorable alternative. 

Instead he walked down the hall to the kitchen’s entrance, entering with a light tap of his knuckles to the door frame so as not to startle her. She looked up from where she was trying to arrange the dirty dishes beside the sink.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Harry. I know it’s late, I shouldn’t be keeping you any longer than we already have.” 

“It’s alright.” He stepped further into the kitchen and rolled his sleeves back. “How can I help?”

She looked scandalized, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. He had to force himself not to stare. “You’re our guest! And you’ve already cooked, you don’t-”

“Then as your guest you should abide by my preferences. And I prefer to help those who have been so kind to me.” He smiled at her furrowed brow, then gestured to the dishes. “How can I help?”

She put him on drying duty, which did not surprise him. He was careful and methodical, as he always was with his tasks, but especially so here since he did not want to drop anything for fear of it breaking. He had done so well tonight, he did not wish to shatter it by damaging her belongings or making himself seem incompetent. 

“You know,” she said after a few minutes of only the sounds of dishes clanking against one another and running water filling the space between them, “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you where you’re going in the morning.”

“Oh.” Harry chuckled, glancing up from the bowl he was drying. “To work.”

“Well, duh, I knew that part. I mean where? Where do you work?”

“A law firm.”

This made her pause and he tensed, too, afraid of what she may think of him now. Her movements were back to being guarded, less fluid as she returned to scrubbing the plate in her hands. “Oh yeah? You seem a little young to be practicing.”

He laughed then, the bitterness for his job falling into the noise. “I’m only an associate attorney. I’ve passed the Bar, but I still need experience. So, for now, I’m doing research and paperwork and whatever else it is they need of me.” 

“Are you hoping they offer you a position after you get enough experience? The place you’re working for now?”

“No,” Harry shook his head for further emphasis. 

“Why not?”

“That’s a complicated question,” he said, trying to sound like he was still in good humor but was failing. He dared to glance up from what he was doing to catch her gaze on him. She looked away quickly.

“You don’t have to tell me. It’s okay. Sorry. I don’t mean to seem like I’m prying or anything I was just-”

“No, no, it’s alright. It’s...well, it’s more so that I don’t want to sound like a complete toad for complaining about having a perfectly good job with viable options afterwards.” Which was true. It was a very good job. The pay was good, the offices were nice, and he had his own office. Even if it felt like more of a broom closet on the bad days. 

“You? Complaining?” Macy giggled and shook her head. “Harry, you literally just came over to someone else’s house, cooked dinner for four people, and are now helping with the clean-up. You put up with Mel being mean to you better than I do, so I doubt whatever’s about to come out of your mouth will be unwarranted.” 

He went to argue but she cut him off.

“Plus, even if you are complaining,” she shrugged and looked up at him again with a soft smile, “I don’t mind listening.” 

This gave him pause because he had never heard such a thing before. He had been taught, actively and passively, that he would have to keep everything inside instead of sharing with others. It wasn’t fair to unload his worries or doubts or bad thoughts with anyone else. That was too much of a burden for someone to carry when they already had their own things to worry about. 

But he was also very good at seeing another person’s side of things. Why people did the things they did. It was so easy for him to listen to the problems of others and know how to grant them comfort. It’s why he had wanted to become a lawyer. Apart from getting the opportunity to make people’s lives easier or better by helping them where the law did not, he gave them someone who was on their side. 

There was a reason law school took so long, it was a complicated system that took ages for anyone to understand. And even then, it still had him squinting in confusion sometimes. It was an ever changing puzzle for the most knowledgeable lawyers, let alone the common man.

A lot of the time a lawyer's job wasn’t standing in a courtroom, despite what the flashy and dramatic scenes in the media told the public. It was mostly sitting in an office, surrounded by copious amounts of paper. It was spending time on the phone, writing emails, or scouring sources for research purposes. And it was talking to people, giving them advice on what their options were or counseling them into how to go about things properly without having to worry about getting into trouble with the law.

In his opinion, the litigation parts were the worst, not anything to get excited about. 

Although he may work for a stereotypical large law firm with the well dressed lawyers and their overly expensive watches, charging high prices, that wasn’t how all good lawyers looked. A lot of them were sat in small or private practices, dressed in jeans and a nice shirt. Especially on a Friday. 

There were so many types of attorneys, not just criminal or divorce. People just didn’t think about them because they weren’t standing in front of cameras giving their statement on something fascinating. He didn’t blame the public though, he wouldn’t want to listen to someone give a lecture on tax planning and compliance either. 

But Harry Greenwood had wanted to become a lawyer to help people solve their problems. The justice system was a frustrating thing to comb through and he wanted to be the one that could give someone a steady hand to have at their side while getting through it. It was important to him that people knew they had someone they could trust to do right by them when facing legal action. There was already so much doubt and betrayal in the world, he didn’t think people deserved to be screwed over when dealing with something so stressful as well.

“It’s just like any other job really,” Harry said after recovering from Macy’s kind admission. He didn’t want to tarnish it by dismissing her, so he figured telling her would be fine, as long as he kept it simple. “The firm works for a number of wealthy clients, which is not what I want to do for the rest of my life. And the people that work there are not...particularly kind.” 

She laughed again, shaking her head. “I cannot believe you’re a lawyer.”

His brows furrowed. “Why ever not?”

“I mean look at you,” Macy lifted her hand, fingers wiggling at his face, “you’re look so...harmless.” 

“Well, it’s a very good thing lawyers don’t have to look like a WWE wrestler in order to do their jobs,” he smiled. “And I can assure you, I can be very menacing. When I want to be.”

“Sure. You do know you just called your co-workers not particularly kind , right? Most people would say way worse about theirs.”

“Ah, but you can’t really compare those things now can you? Mine only call me harsh terms and expect me to be as efficient as a computer in such little time. Others have to deal with drug dealers or sexual harassment.” He winced, thinking of when he had worked as a waiter in high school. As unbearable as the customers were at times, he suffered mostly because of the management he had been under. A far worse nightmare, though more harmless to his career than those he was working for now. 

“You even complain so politely. Harry, it’s fine. It’s just me, I’m not going to tell anyone if you talk shit about your boss,” she snorted and handed him a glass to dry. 

“I really have nothing unfortunate to say other than that I feel sorry for the lot of them.” He focused his eyes down on the cup between his hands, running the dish rag over the bottom. “They have no idea how to treat people anymore. Everyone is judged by their status, which is based on their monetary value, and the rest of us are just rubbish to them.”

“So you feel bad for these people...why?”

“Because they’ve completely forgotten what the point of it all is anymore and either they’re lost to that life, or one day they’re going to wake up and realize what a terrible life it is that they made for themselves acting like that,” and he could feel himself getting worked up now. “Honestly, it tears me up inside thinking of the poor barista that has to answer to them. Or the cashier or their Uber driver. It’s ridiculous. I hope I never become that. I just want to do my job and come home to some tea, a book, and not cause the delivery driver any more grief than they already get.” 

Harry set down the glass and looked up to find Macy smiling at him, having stopped doing the dishes at some point during his ramblings.

“...what?” he asked. 

“Nothing,” she shook her head and returned to what she was doing. They returned to what they were doing and he could feel her watching him. After a moment she spoke again, “So, I take it you know.” 

“Know?”

“That I’m in the middle of trying to get guardianship over Mel and Maggie?” 

He let out a breath and nodded. “Yes.”

“Yeah. Most everyone in this town does.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” She furrowed her brow at him. “You’ve never asked me about it. Or my mother’s case. You didn’t even tell me you were a lawyer until I asked.”

“I should have told you sooner. I just...I didn’t want you to think-”

“I don’t, Harry. I would have if you told me when we first met but not now.” She smiled at him, soft and delicate and he could only return one of his own, though it was only clumsy by comparison. “Like I said, you’re harmless.”

“I may look that way, but it’s to my own benefit. That way no one knows what they’re truly dealing with until I’ve beaten them.” 

“And here I thought you were modest.”

“No. Not when it comes to my job. I am very good at what I do. Otherwise the firm would have kicked me to the curb months ago. White and male I may be, but financially I’m not their usual hire.” 

They finished the rest of the dishes with Macy poking fun at him and Harry doing his best not to blush. When they were able to get the number of dishes down to a more manageable size Macy insisted that he return to his home. He obliged, feeling the effects of dinner wearing on him now, his eyes feeling heavy and limbs lethargic. Thankfully tomorrow was Saturday and he would be able to take his time in the morning with getting up.

She walked him out to the front porch, leaving the wooden door open but shutting the screen one behind her. 

“Thank you for everything,” he told her. “Your cupcakes were the stars of the meal. Are you sure science is the field you want to go into?” 

She laughed, ducking her head in what looked to be embaressment. He wondered why a woman of such beauty and intelligence was so uncomfortable with compliments, surely she received them daily. “I’ll be sure to bring you something the next time I get the chance to bake.”

“I look forward to it.”

She smiled at him, warm in the chilling air of the night. Harry swallowed thickly before he could return what he hoped was a charming smile of his own. 

“Thank you again for inviting me over. If you ever need anything, be it dinner or whatever else, you have my number now. So...I’m only a phone call away. Give your sisters my best.” He went to turn but was stopped by her hand on his arm. His eyes followed her hand up her arm, shoulder, until once again he was met with her brown eyes. They were no longer softened by her smile but were unsure, looking at him with a question she wasn’t asking. He held her stare steadily. 

“Macy,” he prompted, breaking the moment of silence.

“I…” she took in a breath and he heard it get stuck on something. Macy looked back at the door, her fingers curling tighter against the fabric of his jacket. When she looked back up at him her eyes were glassy. “I’ve already lost everyone else and I don’t know what I’m going to do if I lose them, too.”

Before he could think rationally about it he placed his hand over the hers as it still lay on his arm, guiding her over to the patio furniture so that they were sitting side by side on the sofa. “You’ve been in the role of guardian ever since your mother died, Macy. They’ll recognize that.”

“No, they don’t know that. Ray is who was supposed to be looking after them, us , after mom died but he...after the funeral he just left! And I knew that if anyone found out that they would take Mel and Maggie away, too. I didn’t-” her voice broke like chipped china. He waited for her to recollect herself, giving her the time she needed in silence. “I started thinking about it. How much longer was I supposed to sign off on permission slips with his name on it? And who is Mel going to put on her college applications? I’m their emergency contact. The house bills are addressed to me now, I thought...I didn’t think it was going to be such a big deal. But it’s looking like it’s going to be and I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t just let them go into foster care to be-be separated. They already lost their mom, they can’t lose one another, too.” 

Harry reached into his pocket to pull his handkerchief free and hand it to her. Tears fell down her cheeks and he wanted, more than anything, to wipe them away himself. Just like this case, he wished he could take it from her hands and help. But he couldn’t step where he wasn’t wanted. 

She looked down at the offered square of cloth and snorted, but took it anyways to dry her eyes. “I can’t believe you actually have one of these.”

“Don’t knock it. It’s perfectly useful.” He allowed himself to smile when she huffed, glaring at him. When she was finished she handed it back, sniffling. “There we are. Now, let’s get into why you’re so doubtful? If you present your case with you wanting to get guardianship over your sisters because your...father isn’t around, it should be very cut and dry.” 

“He’s not my dad,” she said and before he could ask her to clarify she sat back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. “They’ll only turn that against me. They're good at that, you know. All the papers are already doing it. Saying how I’m putting my career above their well being and how I’m not going to be suitable for their care.” 

“That’s just the media, Macy, they can make anyone look bad.”

“So can a lawyer.”

“Yes, well, your attorney shouldn’t have any problem painting you to be the great big sister you are.” 

She groaned, shutting her eyes. “He doesn’t even care about us! He keeps saying he’s got it, he’s got it, but he hasn’t even talked to me after putting in the application. I keep calling, trying to set up an appointment but he always dodges me and I...I don’t know what to do. I feel like no matter what I say or how I act, the judge is just going to see me as incapable of taking care of them. I could be Marry Freakin’ Poppins and it wouldn’t even matter.” 

Hearing that made the heat of anger bloom in Harry’s chest. This case should have been at the top of that man’s priority. It was largely in the public eye, one would think he would be taking great care with it for his reputation’s sake. “Why has he said he can’t schedule time to speak with you?” 

“I don’t know. It’s probably all the interviews he’s been getting from the news coverage.” She shook her head. “You’d think he would want to come over to get them more information. Sneak pictures, whatever.” 

Harry worked his jaw, clenching and unclenching it at the thought of someone actually doing such a thing. “That’s absurd. Why haven’t you-?”

“We can’t afford anyone else,” Macy answered, voice quiet. He watched her as she continued to stare up at the ceiling and realized it was probably to keep herself from crying, again. “Mel’s already given up hope. Tonight was the first time I’ve seen her smile that much since I told them about what might happen. She was already so angry before and now she’s just...I don’t want her to hate me anymore than she already does.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Yes, she does. I don’t blame her, though.” 

“What makes you think that?”

“It’s a long story.”

Harry nodded, not wanting to push her into telling it when she had already shared such an emotional toll tonight. And with what he was contemplating asking her. Neither of them spoke while he thought it over in his mind. In the end, he figured it was better to do it then to hold his tongue. 

“Macy,” he started, causing her eyes to flick over to him. “I...I know you don’t need my help for anything, and please don’t interpret this as pity or anything like that because I don’t pity you. At all. I think you’re perfectly capable of anything you set your mind to. But you’re a bit busy and I’ve already got all the qualifications needed for law so if...if you would want my help with this, I’m more than happy to offer it.”

Macy sat up, turning so that she was seated fully facing him as he was her. “Can you do that? With your job?”

“I’m not saying I can fully take over for the attorney you have employed now, but I can give you advice, help look over all your documentation so that everything’s in order, and get you and your sisters’ statements prepared. Anything you’d need, I’ll help to the best of my abilities.” 

She stared at him for a few rather terrifying seconds. He was sure that he had ruined everything they had already established and was about to apologize, but before he could she was pulling him by the shoulders into a hug.

“Thank you,” she said, her arms tightening around him. He brought his own up to return the hug, allowing himself the moment to close his eyes to focus solely on the feeling of her pressed against him. They pulled away from one another and he found her to be smiling again. “How are you even real?” 

“Er, well, aren’t you the one studying genetics?” he countered. It earned him a giggle and a light shove of his shoulder. 

They stood and parted ways, Macy pulling the screen door back to step back inside. He smiled when she cast a look over her shoulder at him.

“Goodnight, Harry. See you Monday.”

“Sleep well.” 

And with that she closed the door, allowing him a brief moment to gather his wits before he ventured off into the night that was, most assuredly, good.

--

The case had turned out not to be as straightforward as he had anticipated.

Macy gave him everything he had asked and he spent a few sleepless nights going through everything. Her application for guardianship had been fine, but if her lawyer had been competent it could have been impeccable. Her ability to write was there, her academic background shining through, but it lacked emotion. It was clinical and if he had been there he would have stopped and asked her to rewrite it with a bit more of her heart.

And their familial background was, as Macy had implied, rather complicated.

He had not meant to find out, but in his quest to establish a familial history he had requested the girls’ birth certificates from the hospital. 

It would seem that Ray Vera was not Macy’s father but he was also not Maggie’s. They shared Dexter Vaughn as their father while Ray was solely Melanie’s. All three shared Marisol as their mother, though. So they were biologically related. 

He hadn’t let on that he knew and didn’t have to as Maggie had ended up telling him the whole story one day. 

Harry had come over, something he did much more frequently now that there was the case to provide a reason to be, and had been helping her with her spelling since the other girls had their own homework to tend to. 

Dexter and Marisol had not been married when they had Macy and agreed they were too young and not right for one another. They lived separately and Macy lived between the two of them. Years later, Marisol met Ray. Their paths lay closer together and they were married, only to have Melanie. After, Marisol and Dexter had an affair and with the birth of Maggie, Marisol and Ray divorced. He left, claiming it was for work. Shortly after, Dexter died. 

Then Marisol was murdered and Ray returned for a moment, only to disappear again. 

“So now it’s just me, Macy, and Mel,” Maggie said.

“Pardon me for asking, but you’re 8 years old. How do you know all of this?”

“I listen.” 

“Ah,” he nodded as if that cleared everything up. “Is that why Macy thinks Mel hates her, then?”

“Mel doesn’t hate her, she only acts like it because she’s really sad.” Maggie shook her head. “Which is stupid. It only makes everyone else sad, too.”

“She’s just in pain and wants others to know that.”

“I know that! But she doesn’t let me make it better.” 

“Sometimes the only way people can feel better is if they do it themselves,” he said. The girl frowned but then nodded.

“But she doesn’t hate Macy. She’s mad at Mom for making Dad go away. But now Mom isn’t here and she thinks we don’t like her because her dad isn’t our dad.” She turned her big eyes to look up at Harry, her brows knit together. “Which is also stupid. Why does it matter? She’s still our sister.” 

“Just keep reminding her of that. I’m sure she’ll come around once we get everything sorted out.” Harry smiled when Maggie nodded again. “You know you’re very smart, Maggie.” 

“No I’m not,” she whined, holding up her sheet of vocabulary words. “I can’t spell sincerely !” 

“That’s alright, neither can half the people who email me. You can get it.”

--

“What’s all this?” Fiona asked, looking over his shoulder. He startled at her voice, having been so focused on what he was reading that he hadn’t noticed her presence when it entered the copy room.

“It’s...something I’m helping with.” He closed the file and hugged it to him.

“Oh, yeah? Who’s it for?”

Knowing that she was going to figure it out eventually, he sighed and relaxed his posture. “Macy Vaughn.”

Fiona turned and shut the door. “No fucking way. You actually did it! I can’t believe it!” 

“Please, you can’t tell anyone. I’ll be fired if they find out I’m doing anything outside of what they’ve given me.”

“I know that. I just can’t believe you agreed knowing that, too! Oh, I’m so proud of you!” She grinned, reaching forward to punch at his shoulder. “So, what’s she paying you?”

“Nothing.”

Fiona looked affronted. “Not even in sex?”

“No! My word,” he peered around the room as if someone had heard. Of course, they were the only ones in there. Besides the machines and furniture. “We are friends. Nothing more, this is a favor because I offered my assistance.” 

“Ugh, you’re too sweet. If you weren’t my friend it would make me want to vomit.” She looked upward, nose scrunching. “It still kind of makes me want to vomit.”

“Must you always be so crass?”

“Yes. Now, stop being such an old fart and tell me what happened.” 

As his research for Ms. Silver was being printed off he relayed the events of the night in question to her, keeping the details to a minimum but just enough to satisfy Fiona without betraying the sisters.

When he was done, she stared at him for a while. “If she asked, would you take the case?” 

This gave him pause and in the end he shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel I’m too emotionally invested as is. Not to mention it’s in the public eye. If I did, then I would be signing my two weeks here.” 

“Might be good exposure for you.” 

“I...I’m comfortable here.” 

“Yeah, and you have been for long enough. Look, I’ve been thinking and I can’t stay here,” Fiona said. “The longer I’m around these people the more I want to rip my own hair out.”

“Fiona, you can’t be serious,” he chuckled and then quickly stopped when he saw the look on her face. “What about Charity?”

“What about Charity?” She rolled her eyes. “She’s one of them now if not worse since I know where she came from. I don’t want to be like her. I can’t, Harry.”

“Where will you go?”

“I don’t know. But if you’re getting out, too, then…” she trailed off, smiling. “Maybe we can start our own practice.”

“Okay, I think you’ve officially cracked up.”

“We always said we would!”

“We were in school! Everyone was half out of their minds hyped up on caffeine and sleep deprived! We-we were children! We can’t.” 

“No! That’s exactly what we should do! We’ll...we’ll start new! I have the money, you have the people skills, and we’re both good at what we do. It’ll suck for a while but then be really great the rest of the time. Come on! Callahan and Greenwood!” 

Harry set down the file he was holding so he could take up both of Fiona’s hands in his. “Fiona, calm down.”

She gripped his hands back. “I am calm, Harry.”

“Good. Now, while I would love to work with you, I don’t think we’re ready to just...go out there and be on our own. We would be starting with nothing. What would our practice even be?”

“Anything we want! Copyright, family, finances, defense, who cares?”

“I care, Fiona, me, the one you're proposing this idea to!”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“I-I don’t know!”

“Then we’ll figure it out.” She pulled on his hands. “I can’t stay here, you were never planning on staying here, so let’s go.” 

He eyed her, unsure for a moment. But the look on her face, the utter conviction of it, made him feel reassured. He knew Fiona and he knew that if this was what she wanted then he best grab a seat quickly before she took off with it. 

“Please, Harry, come with me,” she said. “It’ll be fun. And I won’t be mean to you like they are here.”

He gave her a skeptical look.

“Okay, so not as mean.”

With that, he sighed and she was already celebrating before he got a word out. “Okay, fine. But we’ll need to get all our ducks in a row. I’m not doing anything until we’ve got a clear and decisive plan. And Fiona.”

She stopped to listen.

“If we’re doing this together then we are doing it together. 50/50, I must be included in everything. Alright? No secrets or-or-or hidden agendas. Everything will be out in the open between us.”

“Deal.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

“If you so much as pick a font without my input, it’s over.”

“You have my word. We do everything together.”

After a moment he let out a breath, smiling. “We’re doing this.”

“Yes, we are, Greenwood. Yes, we are.” 

“I’m in,” a third voice said. They both turned to find Tessa standing just inside the door, her face passive. She sighed, “I hate it here, anyways. You two are the only ones I like.”

“Erm,” Harry looked from Fiona to Tessa, “you do know you won’t be paid much.”

“I know.”

“And you won’t have your own office,” Fiona said.

“Duh.”

Harry and Fiona looked at one another and shrugged, before walking over to Tessa and gathering her into a hug. She may have made a negative sound but Harry felt her return it anyways.

--

It was a Saturday night when he got a phone call from an unknown number. Luckily he had fallen asleep sitting up reading so his body had been more susceptible to being awoken. It took him a moment to orientate himself before he could read the numbers on the phone.

He almost didn’t answer, knowing that if it was important they would leave him a voicemail, but after a moment he recognized it and felt his stomach drop. Who would be calling him from there? After listening to the automated voice and pressing the directed buttons, he heard the line pick up.

“...Harry?” 

“Melanie?” he asked, bemused and exasperated. “Why in the bloody hell are you calling me from the police station at-” he pulled the phone back to check the time, “nearly 12:00am.”

“I got arrested, why do you think?”

“There are plenty of other reasons.”

“Ones where I don’t have my phone?”

He paused, trying to think and then realizing it was pointless to argue. “Nevermind. Why haven’t you phoned Macy?”

“You’re our lawyer, aren’t you?” 

“Why have you been arrested? What did they say they were charging you with?”

“Underage drinking or whatever, but I didn’t even drink anything. They just grabbed whoever they could. I’m being detained for no reason and they won’t listen to me! Can you just come down here and tell them to get me out? They’ll listen to a white guy.”

“Don’t say anything else until I get there. Not even to insult them- especially to insult them.”

“Whatever.”

The drive to the police station was a quick one as there were not so many people on the road at the late hour. Also that he was speeding. 

They led him past the holding cell and his eyes scanned over the people inside. The majority were young adults dressed in what he assumed were party clothes. Half of them looked rather inebriated. Melanie was not among them.

She was in another room, seated at a table with an officer on the opposite side. He had never known the feeling of true relief until that moment. She looked unharmed and in one piece.

“You came,” she said, her face confused for a split second before returning to looking annoyed as the officer stood to greet him. 

“I’m her lawyer. If we could have a moment alone to speak?” he told the officer who was already on her way out the door.

It was easy getting them to release her since after a breath alcohol test resulting in next to nothing and the drug charges they were trying to pin on everyone at the party being as thin as gossamer, they agreed to let her go if she told them whose party it was. It took a minute of coaxing on his part to get her to say a name but it satisfied the officer, who had gotten the same name from several of the other people taken in tonight. She agreed to let Melanie go.

A few bits of paper work and returned personal effects later, they were walking to his car. 

The ride was silent for a long time but he was not the one to breach it. 

“Macy hasn’t called me,” Melanie said. He hummed his acknowledgement of this. “You didn’t call her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I was a bit busy trying not to get arrested for going far over the speed limit trying to get to the police station,” he said. “Although, that might have been faster.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“If she asks I won’t lie or keep it from her, but I also don’t think it’s my place.” 

There was another long moment of silence.

“Are you going to ask me why I was at that party?”

“I wasn’t going to, no.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t really think it matters.”

“Oh, so you just don’t care?”

Harry flipped on his blinker, despite there being no one on the road but them, and pulled over into an empty parking lot. When the car was stopped he turned in his seat to look at her.

“Of course I care,” he said. “I just can’t comprehend why you don’t seem to.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You put yourself in harm’s way tonight. Judging by the ages of the other people in that holding cell, I’d say it was a university party. And while I commend you for not participating in the consumption of alcohol or other...substances, I do have to wonder why you think so little of yourself that you would be there in the first place.” 

“I do not!”

“Then why go, Melanie? Why would you want to spend time with people far older than you? And who do things like that? You told me a car was driven through the house you were all in! You could have been killed! It was lucky no one was hurt at all with a drunk driver behind the wheel.”

“She said she was going to be there, okay!” Melanie yelled. “She said her brother was putting on a party with his fraternity and that he would let us in. So I went, okay? I went because I wanted to see her and so she wouldn’t think I was lame for not wanting to go. And you know what? She wasn’t even there! She didn’t even show up or text me or anything .” 

She shifted down in her seat, hitting her head back against the headrest. “It was stupid, but I’m okay. Nothing even happened, I just listened to this sorority girl cry about her boyfriend and played poker!”

He processed this information for a moment and while he didn’t fault her for liking a girl, his point still stood. “If she cared about you then she wouldn’t have put you in that position.”

She remained silent, her eyes firmly focused on her hands in her lap.

“I don’t know this girl, but if she’s going to stand up a class act like you, then she isn’t really worth it.” When Melanie didn’t respond he sighed. “Melanie, you do know your sisters care about you, don’t you?”

“What?” she turned her head to look at him now.

“They care about what happens to you. If something had gone wrong tonight, they would be devastated. I guarantee you that if you tell them what did happen, they’ll be rather cross with you, but they’ll be happy that you are safe.” His eyebrows creased in concern as she looked at him with skepticism. “Why don’t you believe that?”

“Because if anyone’s going to go it’s going to be me,” she said, quiet. “I’m the troublemaker. I make Maggie cry all the time and Macy angry or late or annoyed. They can have one another and I’ll just...go away.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Who cares?” she scoffed, her voice getting a bit more gummy now. “I’m 16. In two years I’ll be out of here. I’ll be gone either way, better sooner than later. She won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

“Where will you go?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters a bit. You don’t have a plan?”

“Why?”

“Well, it just seems like you want to get out of there anyways. Why not just go now? If you don’t want to be there.” He shrugged.

“No, they don’t want me there.”

“Then why is Macy fighting so hard to keep you with her?” he asked, voice low and serious. “I’ve never seen anyone so scared to lose someone as your sister is to lose you.” 

“That’s...she’s just scared for Maggie.”

“No, Melanie, not just Maggie. You, too.” 

“You don’t know anything. You’re just some lonely guy who thinks he can get lucky for helping us out. Well you can fuck off, because you don’t know anything .” She tried to open the door but he had known better than to not put on child lock after they had gotten into the car. She shoved harder and then slapped at the window. “Let me out of here!” 

“No. It’s late and you are not walking home.”

“Open the door.”

“No.”

“Let me out of here.”

“No.”

“Why do you even care? Just leave me alone!” she yelled, her hands reaching up to cover her eyes. 

“I care because I’ve gotten to know you, Melanie,” he began, settling back in his seat so he wasn’t watching as tears began to fall down her cheeks. “And I know that you care about your sisters. And I know that you’ve all been through a lot. Far too much for any one person, let alone one your age. I see the way you and your sisters interact with one another, like three individual pieces to make up the one whole. 

“Maggie looks up to you, you know? How else would she have known to tell off the ones who were stealing her friend’s things? Because you told her they couldn’t get away with it. She cries because you mean so much to her that it hurts to hear someone you love say things of that nature. But she still loves you. 

“And you and Macy are so similar in your ways. Always thinking you’re right, being suspicious of anyone that’s kind to you because you’re both protective of what you love. You both nearly took my head off the day we met. And we spoke on the train, yes, but you know we didn’t really become friends until I met your approval. That’s when she deemed it safe to give me her phone number. Because she loves you and values your opinion above all others. She only gets frustrated with you because she’s trying so desperately to make you happy and well off when she thinks you hate her in return and she doesn’t know what to do.

“So, yeah, you know, if I’m being honest, I am lonely. I was even thinking about getting a cat when I met you lot,” he smiled when he heard her huff in amusement. Harry turned to find her looking at him, eyes puffy and watery with tear tracks on her cheeks. “But I’m forever thankful to you three for giving me people to care about. Because I do, Mel, I do care about you. Why else would I be here, ranting and raving at you in the middle of a church’s car park at half passed two in the bloody morning?” 

He breathed in deeply, having not expected to get so worked up. 

“You called me, Mel.”

“Pardon?”

“Mel. You finally called me, Mel.” 

They stared at one another for a few seconds and he softened when he saw her smile. Harry pointed to her, “Put your seatbelt back on so we can get you home.”

The rest of the ride back to the Vera-Vaughn residence was to the sounds of the radio and hum of the engine. But instead of the tense silence before it was nothing but a comforting quiet of the night settling in. Or very early morning, as it was.

He pulled into her alleyway at her instruction, and unlocked the doors this time. 

“Hey, Harry?” Melanie asked, voice hesitant, making him look to her. She reached across the middle to hug him. She squeezed him so hard he felt like his ribs would pop. He reached up to return it, rubbing a soothing line across her back. When she pulled back she said, “Thank you.”

He smiled and watched her until she closed the back garden’s gate behind her. Then he waited until she sent him the I’m in, go away now text before he headed back home. 

Thankfully Mel came clean to Macy the next morning. He knew this because Macy’s call to thank him woke him up. It was relieving to know that he wouldn’t have to act differently come Monday, wanting to stay loyal to both girls without coming in between the two of them. It also made him think that maybe, just maybe, his sleep deprived rantings had gotten through to Mel after all.

--

Harry had become a very busy man suddenly. Along with his regular work he also had Macy’s case to look over and going over the beginnings of setting up his own firm with Fiona and Tessa. It did not seem like the same life he had lived only a few months ago, before Maggie Vera had asked him if she could sit next to him on the train. 

Now, he had three new faces in his life that he had come to care for so deeply it pained him to see Maggie with a band-aid wrapped around her finger. She insisted it was only a paper cut, but even so, he knew how much those could hurt. And when Melanie had texted him to ask for his help on a project for US History he may have gone a bit overboard with the list of sources he sent her. Or when Macy called him late at night, after she had finished her work, just to ask how his day had been, he had never known his heart to reach such speeds. 

By all accounts, things were going well for him.

Then he found Celeste, one of the partners, stood waiting in his office. 

“Hello,” he greeted and when she said nothing he continued. “What can I do for you this morning, madam?” 

“There’s been rumors going around, Mr. Greenwood, that you’re working for a client. Someone who isn’t a client of ours and without our knowledge or permission to do so.”

Ah, so this was how it was going to go. Harry shook his head, “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I am not working for anyone but this firm. That’s what I signed on the dotted line for when you hired me.”

“So you’re not working on the Macy Vaughn custody case?”

“No, ma’am. I’m not working for Ms. Vaughn.” 

“Then why are the files for that case on your desk?” 

“She asked me for help, I agreed to do so. She is not paying me and I am not her lawyer,” he said, keeping his voice steady and calm. 

“How long have you been helping her?”

“I couldn’t say.”

“If you were to guess.”

“I don’t know, ma’am. A while.” He narrowed his eyes, “It’s not been interfering with my work here. I’ve done everything that’s been asked of me, just as I always have, in the allotted time that’s given.”

“So you have.” She sniffed, lifting her chin a touch and walked toward the door. He side stepped to get out of her way but she stopped in front of him. “See that it doesn’t.”

Harry smiled to himself as the door slammed behind her. 

He, Tessa, and Fiona put in their two weeks that afternoon.

--

“You quit? ” Macy gaped at him. “Please tell me this wasn’t because of me.”

“No, of course not,” he shook his head. “I told you, I was never going to stay there to begin with.”

“You said you wanted experience!”

“And I got it. Plenty of it. Some helpful, some a waste of time, but it was time to go.”

“Where are you working now?”

“Me and two friends of mine are starting our own practice.”

“Friends?”

“Fiona Callahan, I know I’ve mentioned her to you. She is a very good lawyer, and Tessa Flores-Cohen, an indispensable paralegal.” 

“And you want to be my lawyer now?”

“Yes. Well, we as a team want to take your case, but I’ll be the lead on it since I’ve been with it for this long.” He smiled, hopeful. “Please, Macy, you’ll be doing us the favor. Our first case as a unit. And I won’t allow it to be a failure. I promise.” 

“You promise?”

“I do.” Harry lifted his hand toward her, pinky out just as Maggie had taught him. Macy broke out into a smile, her nose scrunching up in the adorable way it did when she was extra pleased. Her pinky linked with his and they curled around one another. “Have we a deal?”

“Yes, we certainly do.” 

--

Hearing that Macy had finally fired her old lawyer brought new levels of satisfaction to Harry. It drove him to work the hardest he ever had on something, though it was a relatively straightforward case. Sure he had accidentally looked foolish for a camera or two that ended up in the media, but his bruised ego meant nothing to him when it made all five girls laugh. Fiona and Mel especially. Unfortunately, the two of them got on like a house on fire with their favorite target being Harry’s lack of self confidence. 

The only hard part had been tracking down Ray Vera, but Tessa had done it. He didn’t know or want to know how, but she had done it. 

Harry knew that they could have been able to attend without his consent and signature, but he also knew that things for the girls would have been much easier with them. There would be no questions as to where he had gone or why he wasn’t there or how long he had been away. If they had his permission then there would be no other reason to ask after him. 

It had been such an ordeal trying to find him that when the time finally came for Harry to pick up the phone, he almost hadn’t expected a real person’s voice to answer him on the other end of the line. The conversation had been brief and straight to the point. Mr. Vera had hesitated for a great while, trying to tell Harry that he was going to come back to the girls, he just had a few loose ends to tie up. 

“With all due respect, sir, they are your children. If you wanted to take care of them, you would be here,” he said. When he heard the sigh he knew he was going to get the answer he was looking for. “It won’t mean you have to stop being their father, but it seems to me that you haven’t been that for a long time. If you want to start, do it now by signing those papers.” 

After another long moment Mr. Vera said, “Okay.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry replied. “And Melanie’s birthday is coming up. She’ll be 17, I’m sure she would love to hear from you.”

--

“What are you watching?” he asked without looking up from what he was doing. 

Harry, now not having to go into an office all the way into town, hadn’t been taking the train every weekday morning. Instead, he would drive to Fiona’s condo to work with her and Tessa. And when he was invited he would attend dinner at the Vera-Vaughn’s house. Or he would stop over to go over something about preparation for their hearing before the judge. 

It usually ended up with him and Macy sitting in the same room together, quietly going about their own things. 

Tonight Macy had brought down her laptop from her bedroom. At first she had been typing away at the keyboard, the soft sounds of it having drifted into background noise for him. It had subsided over the course of time until it had been replaced by soft puffs of air or muffled giggles. 

“Nothing,” Macy replied. 

He looked up then, unimpressed. Clearly she was watching something . She was leaning back in her chair, eyes fixed on her laptop, with headphones in. 

“So if I came around to look at your screen I wouldn’t see anything?”

Macy’s eyes found his over the top of her laptop. “Fine. It’s a show I used to watch when I was younger. Heaven’s Vice ? Ever heard of it?”

“No, I can’t say that I have. What’s it about?”

Harry hadn’t known the can of worms he had been opening with that question until he woke up the following morning sitting up, still on the couch. In front of him, on the coffee table next to his propped up feet, was the laptop. The screen was dark, probably having shut off sometime last night. 

The show was about two angelic, yet very dim for being celestial beings, brothers there to keep the world on its feet. All the while fighting over a woman, who was really the star of the show despite her questionable taste in romantic partners. It had been surprisingly addicting. Or maybe it was that he just had never partaken in watching shows of that kind as a teenager. 

Macy had seemed excited to have someone to show it to, answering any and all questions he asked while filling him in on details about the cast or pointing out mistakes that made it into the final cut. He must have fallen asleep in the middle of an episode because he didn’t remember whether the brothers had stopped a demon from filling the town’s water supply with poison or not. They probably had, but he would have liked to have seen how.

He went to stretch, get up, escape out the front door before anyone found him still there, but was stopped by a weight on his thigh. Looking down, he found Macy. She was laying on her side along the length of the couch, head propped up on his thigh turned toward the laptop. Her breathing was even, the usual worried or stressed lines gone from her face. 

She looked peaceful. 

It made something grip at his heart to know that she had fallen asleep with him present. So much so that she had felt comfortable enough to lay down, to touch him, to allow herself to rest while he did the same. He knew that she hadn’t done this when he was awake. He would have noticed before having some sort of crisis. 

They didn’t touch. Not really. And certainly not like this.

They were usually accidents. When he would give her a pen and her fingers would brush against his as it transferred into her grasp or when he would help her put on her coat. It was never deliberate, especially not on his part. He kept his hands to himself, sometimes having to clasp them together behind his back in order to do so. 

The most had been when she hugged him that night, the first time he had come to their house. They hadn’t done it again, even though there had been many moments when he had wanted to. All those nights when she looked so tired or scared at the thought of what might happen to her sisters. He would want to touch her hand or shoulder, give her some sort of physical comfort, but knew that he couldn’t. They were friends and more than that, she was his client now. She was in an emotional state and vulnerable, he didn’t want to take advantage of that. He just wanted her to know he was there. So instead of touching, he told her. Or would bring her tea or go find one of her sisters to give her reassurance with hugs and hand holding. 

Besides, after all this time, it was clear that she had no interest in him to that degree. Which was completely fine, Harry thought himself lucky enough to be considered a friend. 

But he had never expected this. 

Why hadn’t she left him here to go to her bed? It was only just up the stairs, wasn’t it? He had only ever been to use their loo, had never seen the other rooms up there, but had seen her come from behind a corner enough times to deduce. She must have been dead tired to have found him a comfortable pillow as he wasn’t the most broad of people. Mel often referred to him as a bag of bones.  

He raised his hand to check the time on his watch. It’s only 5:09am, but he knew he needed to leave before the other two woke up and the day truly began. With careful movements he untucked the pillow that was stuck between him and the arm of the sofa. He used his other hand to support Macy’s neck as he lifted her, just enough to where he could slip out and set the pillow in his place. 

She shifted slightly, curling in on herself as her eyes tightened before settling back town. Harry searched the room and found a basket filled with blankets. He plucked the top one from the pile and laid it across her. 

Unable to help himself, Harry reached forward to move her hair away from her face. He smoothed it back, fingers brushing against the skin of her neck. It gave him the courage to brush his knuckles over her cheek. Soft and warm under his touch. Harry swallowed when he heard her give a quiet sigh, pulling his hand away.  

Carefully, he gathered his things and left, locking the door behind him. 

As he was changing that morning, he realized his clothes still smelled like her. Like that house. It made him pause before his laundry machine to look out over his own apartment, realizing how much more isolating the place had become. How much time he had spent there now. 

After this case was over he knew her use of him would be finished. He would no longer have to ride the train and he would no longer see them everyday. Probably not even every week. 

It made his throat ache because he knew Maggie’s grade was preparing a play for the end of the semester before everyone went on holiday break. He had been helping her memorize her lines, the same method he’d taught her for memorizing her spelling words. She’d even said she had a small singing solo, but had wanted to keep that a surprise. 

What had made him think he was going to be there? He had no reason to passed the selfish ones. 

Who was he to them, really? 

No one. They had no obligation to him at all. 

After this was over he was just going to have to come to terms with going back to the way things had been. Work would keep him busy, he reasoned. Starting a new practice was going to kill him before they got everything up and running. At least there was that. He would have his job and the girls would have one another. 

--

The hearing had been a breeze, just as he had said it would be. Maggie played to her innocence and cuteness, Melanie refrained from saying anything too hurtful, and Macy was on top of her game. He had walked through all the possible questions she could be asked with her and then some, as Macy was an overachiever. They had been prepared for everything the judge questioned. She had been a gracious woman, and he could tell she had been won over as soon as Maggie had finished reading her statement. 

And in the end, Macy Vaughn had been granted guardianship of one Margarita and Melanie Vera. As if there had ever been any doubt. 

The girls hugged and cried as the judge ruled her verdict, and Harry had handed over his handkerchief without a word. After the certificate had been signed they were free to go.

As soon as they left the room, he nearly toppled over when Macy tackled him into a hug. He managed not to send them both crashing to the floor below. The joy that he had been keeping a cap on was suddenly overwhelming him. He couldn’t help but to hug her back just as tightly, happy to know that he could have supported her in this endeavor and wishing that he could do for any other problem that cropped up in her life. Not just the legal ones.

Her warmth seeped into him, the cold air conditioning of the building having had him shivering until this moment. He could feel her fingers digging into him and her breath ghosting against his ear until she buried her face into his shoulder. The moment, in his humble opinion, was about as perfect as he was going to get.

When she released him he bent down to scoop Maggie up into his arms. He let her go after a few minutes of shared laughter and nonsense babbling about the courtroom and the bailiff, who Maggie had been fascinated with, Harry turned to find Mel.

She had her arms crossed over her middle, looking very annoyed. But when he smiled at her, arms open, she rolled her eyes and broke her resolve. Her smile was wide and she jogged forward to grasp him in a hug. 

“Who knew you were actually good at what you do,” she said, looking up from where her chin rested on his chest. 

“Hey, it wasn’t just him,” Fiona’s voice complained, making the both of them look up to find her pouting. “I did work, too, you know. Where are my hugs?”

“Fiona!” Maggie cried, running over to cling to her. “We did it! We can go home now!” 

Harry had never seen Fiona Callahan tear up in all the time he had known her until that day. 

--

The six of them had all retired back to the Vera-Vaughn house for their celebratory dinner that Harry did not have to cook since Fiona had simply ordered it from her favorite restaurant. Which was not a high end bistro, but a very lovely Italian place run by a little woman named Francis. The night had been long and joyus, ending in Maggie roping everyone into playing Mario Kart and winning every round to boot. 

Eventually Tessa and Fiona left, despite Maggie’s plead for just one more game!  

It was down to the four of them, though Harry knew that he should give them time to be together now. He went to say as much but Maggie stopped in front of his chair. She was holding a mug, though it was empty. He recognized it was the one he usually drank from when he came over because of the chip on the rim. It’s why he had chosen it. It had been pushed to the back of the cabinet so he figured no one ever used it.  

“Harry,” Maggie said, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?” This made him sit up and she took one of his hands in her smaller one. 

“You don’t have a family anymore, but we can be your new one.” She placed the mug into his hand and picked up his other one to wrap around it. He stared down as her hands fixed his, pulling his fingers around the ceramic until she was satisfied enough to pull away. Even with it empty, it felt warm against his palms. It took a long time to lift his head and found the three girls looking at him.

His eyes flickered to each of them, unsure of what it was he was supposed to say. 

Maggie stared at him with great kindness, as if she had only just offered him the mug in his hand and not the greatest gift he had ever received. Mel had a small smile tucked into the side of her mouth, as if she was fighting to keep it contained. Macy’s lips were slightly parted, brows creased with worry. 

Harry returned his gaze to Maggie, who was now looking at him with furrowed brows. A reflection of her sisters when they were confused and annoyed. He knew she could sense his hesitancy, unsure of why he had it when her question was straightforward. 

“It’s only fair. We’re a family because of you. Right?” She looked at him and when he didn’t answer her she turned to her sisters. “Right? He did, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. He did,” Mel nodded.

“See?” she looked back to Harry, her optimistic smile having returned. “So we can give you a family. And you can make us dinner and we can have sleepovers in the attic and you can come over on Christmas so we can open presents together and you can tell Macy not to be mad at us for eating all her frosting and you can have that mug for reals now. I can label it for you and everything.” 

Unable to keep it together anymore, judging by the prick of tears in his eyes, he leaned to set down the mug on the floor so that he could gather Maggie up in his arms for the second time that day. She clung to him, too, pushing him back so that she could join him in the chair. He sighed heavily, feeling some sort of heavy weight lifting off his chest despite the girl that was crushed against it now. 

After a long moment, she pulled back, hands on his shoulders to look down at him. “So is that a yes?”

“If you’ll have me,” he said. They both turned to look at the other two sisters. 

Melanie shrugged but had allowed herself to smile fully now. “Sure, why not?” 

All three of them now looked to Macy who froze. Her eyes settled on him and he couldn’t look away because she laughed. Harry loved the sound of it, the way she lit up. 

He knew it a long time ago, the moment she had been laughing on the train to something he had said, that he had loved her. 

“Of course we’ll have you, Harry.” 

Maggie happily slid back down to the floor, pulling everyone to their feet so that they could join in a group hug. 

They stayed up for a while longer to watch a movie, but when Maggie had fallen asleep not ten minutes into it Melanie picked her up to carry off to bed. 

“I guess I better be off then,” he said as soon as Mel’s footsteps on the stairs had diminished. 

“Well, you don’t have to go. It’s a nice night out and Fiona left a bottle of wine we forgot to open.” She smiled at him and how could he say no?

Their back garden was just as beautiful as the rest of their home. She sat them at the table under the pergola. Strands of lights were hung up, keeping away the darkness but not enough to cover what stars could still shine through the night sky over a city. 

“You don’t have to tell me, but I did want to ask,” Macy said after she had poured the wine and settled into the chair next to his. “How did you end up in Michigan? I know you said you moved to America back in high school?” 

“That’s a bit of a sad story,” he told her. “Are you sure you want to hear it? I wouldn’t want to ruin today with my whinging.”

“You wouldn’t be. I mean, we wouldn’t have had anything to be happy about today if it weren’t for you, Harry.” Macy gave him a small shrug, head tilted a little in encouragement. 

He smiled, having given up trying to convince her that she hadn’t needed him to win but only to sort everything properly. “Very well. I had only just turned 14 when my mother’s job was asking her to relocate to America. My father had no problems with it as he worked from home anyways and we had no family to keep us there. So we moved. We were in California, actually, and I started high school. Things were okay, I suppose. It was far warmer and less rainy than Manchester. I didn’t have anything to complain about, really.”

Macy made a sound, and shook her head when he lifted a questioning eyebrow. “I think you had plenty to complain about. High school is awful enough as it is, let alone being the new kid from another country.”

“Everyone did echo my accent back at me for the first few months.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Fiona scared most of them away so I didn’t mind.” When he remembered that he had to continue with his story, he continued. “The following summer they wanted to go on a road trip. Go see the wine country. I told them I didn’t want to go. It was the first time I put up a bit of a fuss with them. I don’t know why I did, either, because I’m sure it would have been a lovely trip. I didn’t want to ruin their time by standing around like a lemon while they did tastings.”

He looked over at the wine bottle now. The pain was like a bruise that never healed. It was an odd comfort to press on it and know that it could still hurt. “I got a phone call saying that my parents had died. Car accident. It had been raining that day, I think. 

“Anyways, I was given to the system for a while. Finished out my schooling, used what money my parents left me to follow Fiona to uni and then law school after. It didn’t stretch, of course, I’ve got mountains of debt I’ve yet to pay back. But her sister worked for a firm here and Fiona agreed to work there so long as her sister got me an interview, too. And that’s it really. Took a large moving van with all our things and have been here ever since.” 

“You and Fiona live together?”

“No. Well, not anymore. We did during law school and when we first moved here but as soon as I could afford it I got my own place.” He smiled then nodded toward her. “That’s why I would take the train every morning. I’d moved out of the city.” 

“Why? You wouldn’t have had to commute or get up as early.”

“I didn’t particularly like it, I suppose. And we’re better off not living under the same roof. I’m an earlier riser who enjoys a bit of peace while she is very much a night owl who never told me when she was bringing people over,” he widened his eyes as he remembered the feelings of distress and embarrassment at some of the things he had unknowingly walked into when coming home. 

“Seems like you’d be the perfect roommate,” Macy smiled. “You cook, you clean, you’re quiet. What didn’t she like about that?”

“Nothing, she didn’t mind my habits so much as she got irritated with my lack of interest in anything involving fun. Which was just going to bars and clubs for her, and that’s fine, she enjoys herself. I accompanied her whenever she would inist, but I always felt as though I was encroaching. Though I did have some lovely conversations with the patrons, once they approved of me being there in the first place.” He sighed, eyebrows furrowing as he took a sip of the wine. “So she thinks me a fuddy duddy who dresses as though I’m 100 years old because I would complain about not wanting to hear her and her girlfriends until all hours of the night.” 

Macy nodded. “Well, for the record, I think you dress just fine. And you look great for 100.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you look closer to 50 if anything.”

“Oi’,” he yelped and she laughed. 

“I’m kidding, hey! I’m kidding! But I do see her point.” 

He smiled and before a comfortable silence could wind down on them Macy reached forward to grasp his hand that was sitting on the arm of his chair. Harry took in a breath of surprise at the contact, staring at their hands before looking up to her face.

“I’m sorry about your parents. I know how hard losing them can be.” 

“It’s alright. It was a long time ago, I’ve learned to make my peace with it,” he told her, knowing very well that their pain could not be the same. She had lost her father and then had lost her mother in such a horrific way. His had no rhyme or reason, he had not been put into the public eye for the loss of the people he loved. He had been able to grieve in peace and all alone. She probably hadn’t had the time, having to take care of her sisters while tending to becoming the adult of the situation. 

“We meant it, you know that don’t you?” Her fingers tightened around his palm. “You’re our family now, if you ever need anything you can come to us- to me about it.” 

“The same goes for you, Macy. I would do anything for you or your sisters. You need only ask,” he told her, covering her hand with his other one. Harry smiled softly at her. “I’ll always be here for you.” 

“Yeah?” she asked, her voice airy. 

“I promise.” 

At her slight narrowing of the eyes he lifted his hand, presenting his pinky to her. 

She grinned. 

--

True to their words, the Vera-Vaughns had adopted him into their little family. He was contacted by them most everyday to talk, to help, to cook, to give a ride, to be asked for advice, to be told happy or sad news.

He went to Maggie’s play and clapped very loud after her solo performance ended. She had made a very splendid witch, dressed all in pinks and purples. 

He had gone to talk to Melanie’s principal when Macy asked him to since she was stuck at the lab. She had staged a protest against the dress code and he had negotiated her punishment to be less severe. And had gotten her, and the rest of the women she was representing, an appointment with the superintendent to discuss the dress code. 

He had answered the phone anytime Macy had called or returned them had he been in a meeting or otherwise missed it. He helped her clean out the house, storing away their mother’s old things and hosting a garage sale. Maggie had done most of the work, getting people to buy things they hadn’t even known they wanted. He had helped fix their attic window after a baseball had flown through it, despite not being the handiest man in the world.

He had also had to reveal to them how terrified he was of bugs when a spider had wandered into the foyer one day. Maggie had run to him screaming, asking him to get rid of it. Unfortunately, he had been more petrified of the thing than her. They had both gone running to find one of the other sisters.

Thankfully, Macy had no problems with releasing it back outside. 

It was nice. 

He allowed himself to get comfortable.. 

Then, one day, she called to ask if he would mind watching Mel and Maggie for the night. 

“Of course,” Harry said, smiling when he heard her sigh in relief. “Are you working late?”

“No, I...have a date.” 

It felt as though the sentence had been a punch rather than simple words, making him breathe out a hefty, “Oh.”

She laughed, nervous. “That surprising, huh?” 

Harry scrambled. “I- no! Of course not! Well, yes. But not at the fact you have a date. Obviously you...you could have a date. I’m just surprised because you...haven’t mentioned anyone before.”

“Well, it was kind of a spur of the moment thing.” He could hear the smile in her voice and hated the way he resented it. “He just asked me this morning.”  

“And he’s taking you out tonight.” 

“I’m really sorry, I know it’s short notice but-”

“No,” he said, his voice too loud in his own ears. “No, it’s really no trouble.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” he replied. After a beat of silence he dared to ask, “So, who is he?”

“Julien Shea?”

“The very rich, very accomplished, very young business man who has been working with your lab for the past year?” he asked, reciting all the information he could remember her giving him on the man. “That Julien Shea?”

“That’s the one.”

Blimey. He didn’t stand a chance.

When he arrived at their home he hadn’t even needed to knock because Macy pulled the door open as soon as his foot touched the top step. 

Harry could only stare in awe of her. 

She was in a green dress, the fabric satiny and flowing down to brush against the floor. She looked quite stunning, but then of course she always did to him. It was clear she was trying to make an impression here and a good one at that. 

She liked him. She liked this man enough to go out on a weekday and to have worn opened toed shoes. 

Harry swallowed thickly. 

She was rummaging around in her purse, only casting him a quick glance. Macy did a double take and then deflated. “Do I really look that bad? Maggie said the olive worked with this jacket but-”

“Macy,” he said and something in his tone made her freeze. “You look beautiful.” 

When her eyes widened he realized what he had just done, what he had just admitted to here right before she was about to go on a bloody date with another man. He really was the scum of this Earth, wasn’t he? He needed to fix this, so he smiled, all good natured and jokey. 

“And I suspect you’re going to be late if you try to change now. Are you comfortable?” he asked, indicating to her shoes and then vaguely gesturing to the rest of her attire.

“I- yes. I am.”

“Then don’t give the matter anymore thought. You look great, and I’m sure that will be the first thing out of his mouth when he sees you,” Harry assured her before stepping out of her way. “Now go on.”

Macy smiled and stepped out onto the porch, hitching the strap of her purse up her shoulder. “Thank you for this, I owe you one.”

“Nonsense,” he waved her off. When she opened her mouth to say something else he cut in first, “Go.”

And off she went. 

“I don’t like him,” Maggie told him and Mel as they sat at the kitchen table eating the cookies Macy had left for them. Stressing out about her date had resulted in her baking. At least there had been one good thing to come of it. 

“Yeah, me either,” Mel agreed, shoving a cookie into her mouth. 

“Chew before you choke,” he said, dunking his in a glass of milk before taking a bite. Harry pointed with the cookie between the pair of them. “Now what makes you say that? Have you ever seen him?” 

After she had swallowed properly, Mel nodded. “Saw him, talked to him. He’s a complete control freak.” 

“How many times have you met him?”

“A few times.”

“So then she’s been seeing him for a while now?”

Mel furrowed her brows at him. “You really didn’t know?”

He shook his head, a bit dazed. “No. She never said anything to me about it.”

“Typical. We didn’t get the memo either until we saw him in the grocery store and he kissed her.” 

Maggie pointed a finger at her stuck out tongue, “Blegh.”  

“You know what he was buying?” she scoffed. Harry shrugged, clueless. “Vanilla beans.” 

He stared at her and when she made a what? face in return he had to ask, “And why is that so offensive?” 

“Because he was getting the real beans, Harry! Not extract or whatever, but the beans. That’s so pretentious! He’s just this rich guy who can buy friggin’ vanilla beans and say it’s the only way he can eat vanilla. Like? Come on . And all it did was make Macy nod and agree and then feel bad because she used extract in the cake she made him!” 

“Oh, of course,” he nodded along, going for sarcasm. Even though, silently, he agreed with Mel. But that was just his envy speaking. “And how do you know he’s a control freak?”

“Takes one to know one,” Mel shrugged. “It’s how he makes her do stuff without even asking her, you know? It pisses me off.” 

“How so?” 

“He made her go tonight,” Maggie sighed from where she was resting her chin in the palm of her hand. 

“I knew it,” Mel snipped. “I knew she didn’t want to go, she just didn’t want to admit I was right.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Macy didn’t want to go and asked Julien if they could reschedule for the weekend.” Maggie shrugged, looking over at Mel who smiled sadly at her. “She didn’t want to leave us alone. But then he said he could get her a babysitter.”

“Which I said we didn’t need. I’m almost 18.”

“Melanie, you’ve only just turned 17,” Harry said.

“Whatever, I still don’t need a babysitter. We would have been fine!”

“Don’t be mean to, Harry!” Maggie scolded.

“I’m not,” Mel said and held her hands up when Maggie continued to squint. “I’m not! I just think it’s dumb that I’m here and she still thinks I need someone to look after me. I can do that and watch Maggie all on my own, I’ve done it before.”

“Hey, I believe you.” Harry said. “But it’s more for Macy’s benefit than it is yours.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know,” she said. 

“ Any ways,” Maggie continued, “he kept calling her so she just agreed.”

“And she gives me lectures about peer pressure?”

“She said it was important to him so she had to go,” Maggie said and sighed again. “I shouldn’t have pointed out that dress. I should have let her wear what she picked out so she looked like the cooking lady.”

“Cooking lady?” Mel asked, eyebrows raised. “Which one?”

“The older one. With Snoop Dog.”

“Martha Stewert?” 

Maggie nodded and sniffled. Harry frowned as tears began to well up in her eyes. “But she was going to see his family! And they’re all so rich! I couldn’t let her go looking like that but now he’s going to fall in love with her and it’s going to be awful!” 

“Hey, it’s alright, Maggie,” he said in an attempt to comfort her. “You were being a good sister. I applaud your taste, she looked wonderful.” 

Maggie only cried harder. 

Harry rose from his chair in an instant to go crouch beside Maggie. He wiped away her tears as they fell with a napkin on the table as Melanie held onto her hands, trying to shush her. He placed a hand on her back, patting softly when she began to calm down. 

“Maggie, what’s wrong?” he asked but she didn’t look at him, only to Mel. He watched on as they shared a silent conversation, not knowing why he couldn’t be clued in. “Girls?”

“We can’t tell you,” Maggie pouted. When he looked to Mel for an explanation she sighed, annoyed. Her eyes squeezed shut briefly before returning his gaze.

“Yeah. We’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“Can’t we just-?” Maggie tried to ask but Mel cut her off.

“No.”

“But-!”

“Maggie, you know we can’t.” 

“She’s going to ruin everything!” 

Maggie began to cry again and jumped up from her chair. She ran off, loud steps up the stairs before the slamming of a door signaling where she had gone off to. Harry and Mel looked at one another and he waited for her to say something. He could tell by her facial expression that she wanted to, her mouth opening. But she sighed, shaking her head a little. He didn’t know if it was meant for him or herself. 

“I better go check on her.” She stood, patting his shoulder as she passed by to follow the path of her sister.

It took him a moment to get to his feet. Once he had he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. So, he began to clean the kitchen.  

He looked up when he had finished loading the dishwasher and for the first time since he had been in this house, he felt like the outsider that he truly was. 

Macy returned home hours later looking tired but with a lovely flush on her cheeks.

“Hello,” he said when she entered the dining room where he had settled in to get some work done.. “How was your night?”

“Exhausting,” she replied, dropping into the seat next to him. “But good, I guess. The food was, anyways.”

“And the company?”

“Rich people will be rich people. I just don’t like how they’re all so polite. How did you stand it? Working for people like that?”

He shrugged, sitting back in his chair when she leaned toward him. “I’m British.” 

Macy snorted. 

“I meant your date,” he said. “How was Julien?”

He watched as a shy smile took over her mouth. She looked down to her hands, fiddling with them. “It was good. Yeah, he was...kind of perfect? He never let me flounder when talking to someone, always introduced me in the nicest way possible. He was great.” 

“Good,” was all he could manage. 

“So, what happened around here?” Macy gestured to him, “I didn’t expect to find you all alone.”

Harry cringed and then began relaying the events from earlier to her. At her look of worry he gathered his things. 

“You best go check on them.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll let you know if I figure out what it was.”

“That’s alright.”

“You don’t want to know?”

“It’s a secret to be kept from me.” And her face, the guilt that shone in her eyes, only made the sting of it hurt all the more. He tried to smile but knew he was failing. 

“Harry-”

“Goodnight, Macy,” he said and then beat a hasty retreat out their front door.

--

He threw himself into his work after that and it hadn’t been without reason. Starting to build a brand new firm took time and effort. Harry ignored Fiona and Tessa’s attempts to talk to him about it, always turning the conversation back to things that needed their attention. 

Of course, Fiona never took no for an answer. She followed him home from work one day after he had snapped at her to leave him alone. They both fell into the couch, her head resting on his shoulder.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” he told her, bringing a hand up to rub at his forehead. “I’ve ruined it, I think.”

He flinched when she slapped lightly at his chest. “Shut up. Those three adore you. Almost as much as I do, it’s why I let you keep going back there. If I thought you were going to be miserable like this then I would have pulled you out a long time ago. Something must have happened.”

“No. Everything was perfectly fine.”

“Tell me what happened that night,” Fiona said, sitting up and turning to look him in the eye. He did as he was asked, giving her every detail from Macy opening the door all the way to him leaving.

“A secret?” Fiona asked, mostly to herself, when he was finished. 

“That’s what they said, they had been sworn to secrecy.”

“In regards to why Maggie was crying? About helping Macy look good for her date.”

“Yes.” 

“Harry,” she said, eyebrows creased, “have you ever actually told Macy how you feel?”

He opened his mouth and, as he thought about his answer he deflated completely. “...no.”

Fiona groaned, falling onto her back against the cushions. “Idiot!” 

“Well, it’s too late now, anyways,” he said quickly. “And she clearly doesn’t have feelings for me if she’s-”

“Stop talking. Just, stop.” She sat back up, brushing her hair out of her face so that her glare was not hidden behind blonde locks. “You need to tell her, dumbass. How else is she supposed to know what’s going on inside your head?”

“But...I mean surely she must know.”

“No. She doesn’t, because you have not told her. She’s a science nerd, she likes facts and having all the information presented to her plainly.” She shoved him in the shoulder harshly. “So tell her before this thing with this other guy goes any farther. Okay?”

“Right,” he let out a sharp breath, feeling his heart flutter at the mere thought of being exposed to the one it had beat for after all this time. “I’ll tell her.”   

--

The following afternoon there was a knock on his door. He had only just walked in not five minutes ago, the kettle hadn’t even had a chance to boil. 

“Maggie?” he asked, staring down at her before poking his head out the door to check the hallway for any sign of her sisters. When he found neither of them, not another soul in sight, he returned his attention to her. “What are you doing here? Where are your sisters?”

She didn’t answer, just continued to look up at him with watery eyes. Harry crouched down on his knees so that he was at her eye level, searching for any signs of injuries but could find nothing. Her chin began to quiver, her lower lip caught firmly between her teeth as she tried to hold in her tears.  

She rushed forward to hug him. He returned it instantly, one hand wrapping around her while the other cupped the back of her head. That was when she finally allowed herself to cry, her hands twisting his shirt as she clung onto him tightly. He could feel the warmth of her tears seeping through his shirt on his shoulder. 

Harry stood, picking her up from the floor as he went. He shut the door and sat her down on his kitchen counter, grabbing the tissue box from the top of his fridge to put on her lap. He cleaned her up, wiping her cheeks, under her nose, and hands for any lingering tears or snot.  

When he was finished he got her a glass of water and leaned back against the opposite side of the counter. She sipped it and then set it down next to her. 

“Better?” he asked and she nodded but bowed her head, no longer able to keep eye contact. “Maggie, how did you get here?”

“I took the train.”

“And then you walked here from the station?” She nodded again. Harry refrained from lecturing her about how dangerous that was. Even if it was daylight outside. “Why did you do that?”

“Macy told us we might be moving.” 

He frowned, standing a little straighter. “Moving where?”

“New York. But I don’t want to go to New York! I want to stay here.” 

“Why would you move to New York?”

Maggie sighed, crossing her arms over her middle. “Julien’s giving Macy a job..” 

Ah. Harry nodded. “What does Mel have to say about this?”

“She doesn’t want to go either. And her and Macy were fighting about it all week.” She looked up at him and her expression made something in his chest ache. “I hate it when they fight.” 

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I don’t like it either.” 

“It’s all his fault!”

“Who’s?” 

“Julien’s,” Maggie rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out to emphasize her dislike of him. Even if it was just his name. “He only likes Macy. He didn’t want me and Mel to move until Macy told him we had to go with her.” 

Before he could respond his phone rang, on the screen was Mel’s name.

“Mel-”

“Maggie is missing and we don’t know where she is and I’m freaking out and-”

“Melanie, calm down. Everything’s alright, she’s here with me.”

“She’s what? ”

Harry stepped forward, offering the phone to Maggie. 

“Hi, Mel!”

…

“But I didn’t. I just went to Harry’s.”

…

“No.”

…

“...no.”

…

“I’m okay, though.”

…

“I’m sorry.”

…

“I’m sorry.”

…

“Okay.” 

…

“I love you, too.”

…

“Okay,” she pulled the phone away from her ear and held it out to Harry. “She wants to talk to you, again.”

He smiled reassuringly at Maggie as he took it from her, knowing that she had probably been at the brunt end of whatever attack Mel had launched. “Hello?”

“I am so sorry.” 

“It’s alright, I’m just happy she’s safe.” He let out a breath, glancing up at Maggie who had returned to her water glass. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be suffering from the effects of a heart attack for the next few weeks, but I’ll live.” 

Harry laughed, nodding. “Good to hear. I’ll have her back in no time.”

“I’ll have a cup of tea waiting for you.”

The drive over to the house was quick and painless after he allowed Maggie full control over the radio. She sang loud and proud, bouncing happily in the back seat as she looked out the window as the scenery of the suburbs passed her by. 

They had only made it to the sidewalk, hand in hand, before Macy and Mel were walking out the front door. Harry felt her hand tense around his and he looked down to see her worried expression. 

“You’ll be just fine, it’s only your sisters.” 

She peered up at him, “That’s what I’m worried about.”

Harry guided her up the steps and before either of them could get in a word, he spoke first, “Maggie is very tired from her long journey today. I think it’s best we get her inside and let her rest for a moment before we get into anything. Would that be alright?” 

His eyes moved from Mel’s to Maggie’s and finally to Macy’s. At her nod he looked down to Maggie again. He smiled at her and then tilted his head forward in encouragement. Maggie released his hand and went running to them. Both girls got to their knees to gather the youngest into an all encompassing hug. The look of relief on their faces was enough to melt Harry’s heart. 

“I’m sorry,” Maggie said, muffled from where her face was buried in Mel’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay. We’ll talk about it later,” Mel sighed. 

The sisters pulled back, Mel getting to her feet as Macy brushed Maggie’s hair from her face. She smiled, a little teary, and then let Mel guide Maggie through the front door. Both Harry and Macy watched them until they disappeared into the kitchen, then like drawn magnets, they looked at one another.

Harry held out his hand and Macy took it, getting to her feet. Without warning she used that point of contact to yank him forward into a hug.. 

“She’s alright. You saw her, she’s perfectly fine,” he told her when Macy finally pulled away. Her hands still held him to her, fingers clutching the fabric of his jacket at the crease of his elbows. Harry searched her face, giving her a reassuring smile as he reached up to smooth her hair back. “Are you alright?” 

“I’ll be fine,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

“Oh, I didn’t really do anything. She did all the leg work..” 

“She went to you,” Macy said as if it had only just occurred to her. “Why did she do that? And without telling someone?”

He hesitated, eyeing the front door. “She said that you and Mel were fighting.”

Macy closed her eyes and sighed, guilt and realization washing over her. “Yeah. We...we have been.”

“She also said you were thinking about moving,” he said. Her hold on him tightened and that was all the confirmation he needed. Harry couldn’t keep the hurt he felt off his face, out of his voice. “Macy, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know.” She let go of him. He allowed her to back away, to cross her arms over her middle. Macy shrugged, looking at him a bit helplessly. “I don’t know.” 

“Were you ever planning on telling me?” 

“Yeah, of course. Of course, I would have told you.”

“Before or after the For Sale sign went up?”

“Harry-”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, that was rude. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just...I thought we had promised that we could tell one another everything.”

“We did.”

“Then why have you felt the need to keep things from me?” Harry hated how desperate he sounded. “First you didn’t tell me you were seeing someone, and now you didn’t want to tell me you were leaving.”

“I didn’t think it was important!”

“You leaving wasn’t important enough to tell me?” Anger bloomed in his chest, making it rise and fall a little faster as his breath responded to this. “If not as a friend then as your lawyer, I think I should know whether or not you’re relocating!”

“Oh, so that’s all this is about to you? You’re worried about losing a client?” 

“No! For God’s sake, of course not. You know that it’s more than that!” He softened immediately after those words left him, voice quiet once more. “You do know that, don’t you?”

“Know what?”

Harry swallowed. Alright. Well. There weren’t quite the circumstances under which he thought he was going to tell her how he felt, but they were just going to have to do. He took a tentative step forward, unsure what it meant when she didn’t step back in answer, when she allowed him to crowd into her space.

“Macy, I-”

“Hey!” a voice cut him off. 

They both turned to find a man, tall with dark hair and a dark beard to match. “I came as soon as I got your message. I tried calling but you didn’t answer?”

“Oh, sorry, my phone’s inside.”

“It’s okay,” the man said, brushing right past Harry to get to Macy. They shared a chaste kiss and he put his hands on her shoulders, thumbs rubbing circles against her blouse. “Did you find her?”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine. She’s inside.”

“That’s great! Oh, thank goodness she’s okay.” he grinned. “Where was she?”

“She went to my friend Harry’s house,” Macy said and then nodded to Harry. 

He blinked, shaking himself out of his shock to smile at the man and hold out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Yeah, you, too! I’m Julien.”

“I know, I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about you.”

Julien grinned widely, glancing at Macy with a pleased look in his eye. “I’m sorry I can’t say the same for you! I’m glad you found Maggie, though, that’s great news.”

They shook hands. It was all very civil. 

“Well, I need to get going,” Harry said quickly, already backing away. “Tell Melanie and Maggie I said goodbye.”

“Harry, wait-” Macy tried but he shook his head, smile still firmly in place. 

“No, really. I’ve a meeting with Tessa and Fiona. You know how they are.” He turned his eyes to Julien, “I hope we can meet under better circumstances next time.”

“Yeah,” the other man nodded. “Next time.”

He caught Macy’s eyes one last time before he turned away.

--

That Wednesday afternoon when someone knocked on his door, it was both of the Vera’s.

“Does Macy know you’re here?” 

“Yes,” Mel rolled her eyes, shoving passed him. Maggie followed, smiling at him as she went, ponytail swinging merrily behind her. “She’s got another date tonight so I just told her we’d come to your place after school. Give them the house to themselves so I don’t have to hear that guy go on about New York.”

He ignored the way his heart sunk a little deeper into that hollow casum in his chest. “Why wasn’t I told about this?”

“What’re you gonna do? Kick us out?” Mel dumped her backpack on the ground and plopped down on the couch. Maggie placed her bag next to Mel’s and joined her sister on the couch. Harry sighed, sitting in the chair. Mel smiled, “That’s what I thought.” 

“For all you knew I wasn’t going to be here.”

“I know how to pick a lock.” 

“I’m not even going to ask,” Harry shook his head. 

“So,” Mel said, “what do you do for fun around here?” 

After Harry had seen to it that they were finished with their homework, they were all settled at his kitchen table playing Catan. Maggie took both of them down, having somehow fortified the sheep if simply because she liked their picture. 

The following weeks proceeded very much like that. He would no longer go to the Vera-Vaughn’s but the Vera’s would go to his. At his insistence, Mel would text him when they were a few stops away from him so that he could be waiting at the station. 

It wasn’t so bad, he just missed Macy. 

Yes, he saw her almost every time he dropped Maggie and Mel off back home, but it wasn’t the same. They spoke briefly and with forced smiles. Sometimes Julien was there, at her side with his arm around her waist or behind her with his arms around her shoulders. 

Harry wondered if he’d also peed on the front lawn to mark his territory. 

Eventually he couldn’t take it anymore. He had become so used to what they were, to seeing her and getting that warm feeling behind his sternum. He was used to it being just a gentle tug, a little reminder to him of why his skin tingled when they touched or why he felt the need to smile whenever he saw her. But this, God, it made it feel like someone was trying to yank his heart free from his ribcage.

He lingered in the foyer one night, watching Mel and Maggie disappear around the corner to the kitchen where Macy told them a pie was cooling. And before Macy could shuffle him back out the door, he stopped her.

“I’m going to miss you,” he told her with a soft smile. It wasn’t anything grand but it seemed to break whatever tension had been sitting between them. She scrunched up her nose, waving her hands dismissively. 

“I still haven’t decided. Nothing’s set for sure.” 

“Oh,” he said, ignoring the hope those words gave him. 

“It’s just a really good opportunity.”

“I understand.”

“And Julien’s been so great.”

“Of course.”

“New York seems cool, too. There’s a lot to do there. And we could finally get away from the prying eyes around this place.”

“Yes, you could.” 

“But…” Harry watched as Macy’s eyes roamed over the house they stood in, lingering on the picture frames that littered the walls and shelves. She sighed, turning back to him, “Making Mel transfer schools in the middle of high school just doesn’t make any sense. And Maggie’s friends have been calling to tell me why she can’t leave. You remember Lucy?”

He nodded, then put his hand out to measure the girls height in the air beside him. “About this tall? Blonde?”

“She came by and said Maggie could live with her instead of moving.” 

Harry smiled at the mental image of little Lucy clinging to Maggie, trying to persuade Macy to let her stay. 

“And...my parents are buried here,” she said, quieter. “I don’t know. What do you think I should do?”

Stay , he wanted to tell her. 

“I would be lying if I said I wanted you to go, but, it doesn’t matter what I want,” he said instead. Harry held her eyes as he continued, voice steady. “Macy, the most important thing to me is that you are happy. I want you to do whatever is right for you and your sisters, so long as it makes you happy.” 

Even if that meant leaving him behind.

“You don’t want me- us to go?” she asked after a moment. It took him a moment to realize that she was genuinely serious with this question, she really didn’t know. 

Really, he should have learned a long time ago that he was better off not questioning Fiona Callahan. 

“No,” he shook his head. “No, I don’t. But, like I said, that doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me,” Macy said. “And, look, I know I haven’t been honest with you lately but that doesn’t mean you can’t be with me...right?” 

“I always tell you the truth, Macy. I will never lie to you.” 

“Then tell me the truth now.” She looked at him and he knew that he couldn’t continue hiding behind thinly veiled excuses anymore. “Why shouldn’t I go?”

“Because I don’t want you to,” he breathed. It was a terrifying thing to say but he knew, had always known, that his feelings for her were like a river. He had built a dam for them, had captured them inside a pool and had only let them flow under his careful supervision. Only coming forwards in small amounts. But now that he was pulling the dam apart, it was spilling over too fast for him to control and there was nothing he could do to stop it. “I don’t want you to go with him and I don’t want you to take Mel and Maggie away, too. I don’t want you to sell this house because I don’t want to have to help you put everything in here into boxes so it makes it that much easier for you to go. I don’t want to have to talk to the girls only by the phone or have to hear about their lives in words because I want to be there instead. And I don’t want you to go because I would miss you too much. Because I wouldn’t know what kind of pain that would bring me but if these past few weeks are anything to go by then I think it’s going to be like torture, knowing that you’re there and I can’t follow you. I don’t want you to go because you’ll be taking half of me with you and I don’t really know what I’m going to do without it. Without you .”

It was a relief to be able to say it, to not have to hold all of that inside of him anymore. It spurred him on, gave him some sort of notion that he could do anything now that she knew everything. But the look on her face, that stunned wide eyed expression, put him in his place very quickly. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins, making him feel like he had just gotten finished running the whole way here instead of driving, but all he could do was stand there like a lemon, heaving air, in front of the woman he loved. 

Macy looked somewhere between scared and confused, stuck in the middle. Harry felt the heat of his blush on his neck, against his cheeks, knowing it was making his ears turn red, too. He almost felt as if he would pass out at any moment just from the fear alone. 

After a moment of simply staring at one another and breathing heavily, Harry figured it was best that he leave. 

“So, uh...well, there you have it.” The corners of his mouth pulled upward briefly in a mockery of a smile before he thought better of it. “I’ll...I’m sorry, I’ll go. Goodnight.”

He turned, wishing that he didn’t have to be seen as he made his escape. If only he could teleport, his life would have been made so much easier.

The weight and tug on his hand made him freeze in his place.

“Wait,” Macy said, her fingers clutching weakly around his. “Please, wait.” 

She pulled at him, and he knew she wanted him to get closer, to keep him in place. He wondered where the man who had been two shakes of a lamb’s tail away from escaping had gone off to, replaced with one willing to let her control his movements like he were one of Maggie’s dolls.

Macy didn’t let go of his hand when their eyes met again.

“You don’t want me to leave because you would miss me,” she said and it wasn’t a question. Just confirmation. 

“Because I love you,” Harry ended up telling her. 

“You love me.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Very much so.”

“Since when?”

Harry was a bit taken aback by this but could only shrug in his state. “Dunno. Probably since you told me to piss off.” 

She smiled and he couldn’t help but to smile, too. 

“You mean that?”

“You wanted the truth, and that’s the truth.” He inched forward until they were very close together, until he could feel her soft intake of breath, until their chests brushed against one another. Harry reached up with the hand she wasn’t digging her nails into and cupped her jaw, running his thumb across her cheek. Still soft, still warm. 

She smiled, leaning into his touch. And just as the space between them began to not exist at all she tensed. “I can’t.”

He paused, as if willing those words to change, but when they didn’t Harry pulled himself away completely. “I’m sorry, I never should have-”

“No! Oh, gosh, no! Harry,” she followed after him, latching onto his jacket until he stopped moving. “It’s just that I’m still with...”

“Julien,” he finished so that she didn’t have to. “I understand. I’m not asking you to pick.”

“I know. You would never do that, but...but you said you wanted me to do what makes me happy.” Her fingers fisted tighter into the fabric at his sides. “You make me happy, Harry.” 

He smiled, reaching up to touch her but stopping before he could make contact knowing very well that if he started again he wouldn’t be able to stop. And that wouldn’t be fair to Macy or to Julien. 

“I tried to ignore that it was you, I-I was trying to run away because I didn’t want to admit how you made me feel. To anyone, not even myself. I tried to ignore it and then Julien came along with this perfect opportunity to get away. From everything, from all of it, from...you.” She frowned, looking up at him like she was panicking. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t be. You have no reason to apologize, Macy. I should have said something far earlier.” He swallowed, tentative to ask what he wanted to next. “Then...does that mean...I don’t want to presume but-”

“Yes,” she said, airy. “I love you, too. I want this, I want you.” 

Those words were enough to turn him into a malleable putty to do with what she wanted. He had to clench his jaw tightly when he saw her eyes flicker down to his lips. A spark of something ignited in his stomach and the warmth of her hands seeping through the layers he wore was not helping matters. And he knew that she could see it in his eyes by the way she deliberately parted her lips, tongue sweeping across to wet them. 

“Right,” he said, voice wrecked. “Good.”

“Good,” she echoed. 

“Yes, good. That’s...good. I um- good.” Harry pulled her hands away and resisted the urge to press his lips against them. He could wait, he reasoned with himself, he had waited this long already.  And she was more than worth it. He allowed her to pull her hands away and took a step back himself. She let him. 

“I’ll call you,” she said, “when everything’s sorted.”

He nodded. “Good.” 

Macy laughed then, bright and unencumbered and it made him want to forget why he was resisting kissing her. “Good..”

--

His phone didn’t ring that morning. Or at noon. Or when he returned home from work. Or before he fell asleep that night.

He knew it would probably be a few days before he got that particular phone call. Julien was a perfectly nice person and he knew it would be difficult for Macy to tell him that she wouldn’t be going to New York with him. Harry didn’t allow himself to doubt her, either. Didn’t think that she could easily change her mind. 

She had told him she loved him and that was all he needed to know.

Melanie did text him, though. 

don’t fuck this up i don’t want to move 

It was followed by a bunch of emojis, sent from Maggie. 

--

The knock on his door the following evening startled him from where he had been about to fall asleep on the couch. The book he had been reading was open on his chest, thumb still caught between the pages to mark his spot. 

He stood when the knocking came again, this time more urgently. Still a bit dazed, he opened it without checking through the peephole first. Harry squinted at the figure until he realized it was Macy.

She was panting but smiled when she saw him. “Were you asleep?” 

“I...no,” he tried, showing her the book still in his hand. “I was reading.”

“Uh huh.” She showed him her phone in return. “I’ve been trying to call you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Oh.”

For a long couple of seconds Harry could only stare at Macy, his sleepy brain having a hard time processing everything and trying to catch up with what was going on. Macy had been trying to call him. And now she was here, at his apartment, because he hadn’t answered. 

When he managed to piece it together for himself and come back to the situation Macy was fidgeting where she stood, looking unsure of herself now and like she wanted to retreat down the hall from which she came. 

He stepped back, no longer in the way of the threshold, and tossed his book onto the nearest available surface. This time there was no boyfriend to interrupt them, no audience that Harry was worried about intruding, not even her sisters were around to make comments from the peanut gallery. This time, when the door was shut behind Macy and she cupped a hand against his jaw, nothing was there to stop her. 

They leaned closer, shuffled together, and Harry paused just before their lips found one another’s. He ran his eyes over Macy’s face and filed away her expression to save forever. Her breath was moving over his skin, their proximity so close together. This was happening, this was it, they were finally going to do this. He was trembling with the anticipation of it, but didn’t quite know how to start. 

But she, ever the problem solver, already had it figured out. 

Harry gave a soft sound of surprise when Macy, seemingly impatient, tugged him by the collar to capture his mouth with hers. It took them a moment to work it out but they both smiled against the other when they finally found the right angle. For a minute they couldn’t even kiss properly, too busy smiling and laughing into each other. He could feel her hand at the nape of his neck as his reached up to anchor themselves on her hips. 

Finally, their lips softened and pressed together in a chaste kiss, just another way for them to be closer, a way to seal their promise. 

It was sweet and slow, and he was too far gone. One taste and he knew that he was never going to get enough of her, of the way she smelled, the way her skin felt against his. He would never be able to get enough of Macy. He would always want her, need her, and he could only hope that this kiss, this first kiss, was just the start. Harry wanted to stay in that moment forever, kissing her and listening to the small noises that came from the back of her throat, feeling her hand tugging at his hair.  

Then Macy tilted her head, her nose pressing into his cheek, and caught his lower lip between hers. He couldn’t help but to tighten his hold on her, to wrap an arm around her waist to have her flush against him. It quickly turned into something else, something messy and hard. 

She parted her lips, running her tongue against the seam of his to add heat and passion and he groaned in pleasure at the feeling. He parted his, fingers bunching her shirt at the small of her back as she licked her way into his mouth. The fabric was soft, giving way to smooth skin as his grip had untucked her shirt from her trousers. It made Macy gasp, pulling away from the kiss. He released her in an instant. 

They were both breathing raggedly but he caught enough air to say, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she told him, wrapping her arms around his middle and resting her forehead on his shoulder. He leaned his cheek against her hair, allowing his hands to touch her again. 

He guided her over to the couch, pulling her toward him so her back was to his chest and she was sitting between his legs. She held his hands, tracing one of his palms before bringing it up to her lips. They sat there for a long time, talking. About what they wanted to be, where they wanted this to go, and they also kissed or touched simply because they could now. 

She reached forward, grabbing a book off the stack that was sitting on his coffee table that he had been meaning to reshelve for months now. 

“ Parable of the Sower ,” she read, settling back on the couch so that she was sitting beside him instead of lying against him. Macy smiled. “You were reading this when we met.”

“I suppose I was.”

She looked down at the cover, running her fingers over it. Then she handed it to him, “Read it to me?”

He took it from her, making sure to brush his hand against hers. She shoved his legs out of the way so that he was sitting on the couch properly, and laid back until her head was lying on his thigh. Her hand brushed against his stomach, making him chuckle. 

“You’re ticklish?” she grinned up at him. 

“A little,” he admitted, settling the book into a proper position in his hand to read. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“I’m sure you will.” 

She fell asleep a few chapters into the book, and he couldn’t find it in himself to remove himself this time.

--

When he returned her home the next morning, Harry wasn’t sure what to expect. It wasn’t as if Mel and Maggie didn’t know what was going on because Macy had said she told them where she was going yesterday. 

What he did not expect was for Maggie to come running as soon as they opened the door and tackle him. Although, really, he should have been ready for it.

“I knew it!” she squealed. “I knew it, I knew it!” 

This had both he and Macy laughing. 

“Mel didn’t believe me,” she continued, taking them both by the hand and leading them into the kitchen. “I told her you two were going to be in love! I told her! Didn’t I, Mel?”

“Yup,” Mel said from where she was drinking a glass of orange juice at the island. “She called it from the beginning.”

“I told you! I knew it.” She grinned, releasing the both of them. “And now it doesn’t have to be a secret anymore. I thought I was going to explode if I kept it in any longer.”

“I’m sorry, Mags,” Macy said, glancing up at Harry when he eyed them curiously. “But thanks for not saying anything.”

Mel coughed. 

“You, too, Mel.”

“You’re welcome. Glad you two clowns finally figured it out. Maggie and I were going to lock you two in the closet under the stairs if you put our house on Zillow.”

“Now we can be family!” Maggie said and it made Harry feel like his skin was humming just below the surface. 

They settle into the morning. Harry cooked them breakfast and Macy made herself coffee and him tea. The four of them sat at the kitchen table, talking about whatever came to mind. The sisters bickered and Harry laughed and the sun continued to rise, casting buttery light through the windows across the floor.

--

Two months later Harry received a key from Macy and a quiet request for him to move in. Both Mel and Maggie had given her permission, one more enthusiastic than the other, and he did as soon as his lease was up. Fiona helped him pack up, complaining the whole time. 

It made things much easier because he didn’t like going back to his apartment where Macy wasn’t in the bed and where Maggie wasn’t giggling in the living room and where Mel wasn’t listening to music loudly from her room. He could pick up the girls from school and bring them home and not have to worry about the trip back to his place. He didn’t have to spend ten minutes trying to get Macy to release him from her grip, telling her he had to go.

He got permission to go anywhere he wanted, finally getting the full tour by Maggie who was excited to share the attic with him. It still had plenty of their mother inside, and he spent a good while looking over her collection of odd trinkets. They helped to integrate his books with theirs in the little library nook under the stairs, allowing him to rearrange the shelves to his liking since they didn’t really read what was in there anyways.

Most mornings he was up before Macy, who finally got a schedule that didn’t require her getting up before 5, and would kiss her forehead before leaving her to sleep. He packed Mel and Maggie lunch, knowing that Mel appreciated it despite her complaining that she wasn’t a kid anymore. 

And then he would leave to go work with Tessa and Fiona, finally getting into the groove of their new firm. It was hard work, but it didn’t make him want to slam his head against his desk. It was satisfying instead of soul sucking.

Living with the Vera-Vaughn’s also seemed to give him more permission into their lives. 

He was up to date on Mel’s dating life and had helped her pick out what she was wearing to a Halloween party that she was taking her girlfriend to. Harry had met her, Niko, and she seemed like a responsible girl. Very kind and polite, but he didn’t trust Mel as far as he could throw her to leave them alone with the door shut. Which she understood better after Maggie caught the pair of them kissing in the backyard and came running to him and Macy, laughing loudly all the way. 

Harry was there to listen to her, and her friends Kat, Jada and Ruby, go on about this mean girl at school, Abigail Caine. He gave them all advice on how to get through her bullying without doing anything irrational that would get them into trouble. And then he was also there when Jada had gotten stuck inside the girl’s house, trying to steal something or other, helping to distract the girl’s father while the other three got her out of there.  

Maggie had always been open with him about her life, happy to have an audience at all, but now that he lived under the same roof as her she was very interested to hear about his life, too. She would snoop through his things, often pulling his files from his briefcase and carrying them to wherever he was to ask what he was working on. He would tell her, but left out some details for the sake of trying to preserve her innocence for just a little longer.  

He often found himself subject to her pestering about boys because he was one she would tell him. She had a lot of drama in her friend circle for someone so young. Apparently Lucy, her best friend, liked Parker, who she had been told liked Maggie and not Lucy. But then Parker was the half-brother of Mel’s nemesis at school, so Maggie had vowed to hate him, too. And then there was Jordan, who Harry liked more than any other of Maggie’s friends because he had carried Maggie home on his back after she had fallen off her bike and sat with her until his mum came to pick him up. 

Harry was also the one the school would call whenever either of them were sick or forgot something at home they needed him to bring. That was another perk of working for himself and with people who trusted him, he could come and go whenever he wanted. 

He and Macy didn’t really change all that much. They were more open with one another and touched a lot more. She allowed her walls to come down and he would communicate better. Sometimes she would try to run away from him, but he never let her stray too far out of reach.

They didn’t fight very often, but when they did it was vicious and lasted for days on end. Melanie and Maggie would usually bring them together to make peace, or Fiona would knock his head in when it got so bad that he would stay too late at the office because he was too proud to go home. But they could never stay away from one another for long. It would always end in apologies and soft kisses. They would talk through it, figure out where their problems began, and come to a compromise so that it wouldn’t happen again. 

It was not perfect, but he had never expected it to be. They fit and that’s what mattered. She would ramble and he would listen, and she would bake and he would sit there, letting her test whatever recipe she came up with on him. She would sit in the bathtub, soaking away her stress while he sat on the floor beside her, passing a bottle of wine between them. She would sit next to him at one of Maggie or Mel’s events, a concert or banquet, and look over to find him tearing up before she did. 

He would lay in her arms, ranting about a case and the terrors of the world until she smoothed the wrinkles on his forehead with her thumb. And he would coax her away from her research for just long enough to make her eat something, replacing the fifth cup of coffee beside her with a glass of water instead. He would iron his trousers before putting them on in the morning and she would make fun of him for still wearing sock garters.

And they would lay in bed, pressed together, in sated silence with her leg thrown over his and a hand covering his heart, which would be returning to its normal steady beat. He would hold her with one arm, tracing a lazy pattern against her skin. 

She would say, “I love you.”

And he would kiss her temple before saying, “I love you, too.”