The day before Lori's play opened, Sarah, Nick, and Miguel managed to find seats on an early afternoon F-train headed in the direction of her apartment. It was Nick's first time on a subway in months, and they'd mapped out the route carefully to ensure access to elevators and minimal walking time. Miguel actually looked much more nervous than Nick did and kept asking if he needed anything, which made Nick roll his eyes at Sarah repeatedly, which Sarah smiled at, not for the first time surprised that they were now at a place where Nick could comfortably roll his eyes at her.
"You're sure she's okay with curry?" Miguel asked, glancing down at the plastic containers in the bag at his feet.
Sarah nodded, her hands resting on another large bag of freshly-made naan and plastic containers of rice. "She always wants curry before an opening weekend, it's like a superstition, helps calm her nerves."
"Think I'll stick to the rice, my stomach's already in knots without spicy food."
Sarah looked at him, genuinely surprised. "You never get nervous before opening nights."
"Yeah, but this is my first one with her."
Sarah laughed. "I forget that you still think of Lori as a god."
"So do you, a little."
"Yeah, okay, but her kid's puked on me a few times now. It kind of diminishes the aura."
Miguel leaned back in his seat as the train rattled into Columbus Circle. "You think she's okay?"
Sarah shrugged. "She always gets a little crazy before opening weekend."
"Yeah, but this is the first time she's had an opening weekend with a baby."
"She'll be fine." Nick shifted slightly in his seat, and Sarah noted how Miguel's eyes watched carefully to see if he was in pain. "We didn't sleep much for the first year of Mari and Sammy's lives, but we managed to not kill them. Or each other."
"Barely." Miguel grinned. "Speaking of killer, someone's back to attention-getting hair," Miguel said, grinning at Sarah. "Which I wholeheartedly approve of."
Sarah ran her hand through her much shorter, somewhat spiky, blue-streaked hair. It was a cliche, she knew, but cutting it all off and asking for even brighter streaks of blue had felt good.
It had also made her remember all the times Jareth had absently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, or run his fingers through her hair.
She sighed. Nothing was ever simple.
She was about to ask what Miguel might think of a half-shaved hairdo, but at that moment the subway car juddered to a halt. Miguel instinctively reached out to grab Nick's shoulder, and Sarah's bag fell onto the train car floor. The lights flickered.
Miguel closed his eyes. "You've got to be kidding me. It's nowhere near rush hour, this isn't supposed to happen."
Nick squeezed his hand. "It's okay. She'll forgive us if we're late."
The train sat unmoving for five minutes, then ten, then fifteen. Grumbles were heard up and down the car. The air grew stuffy, and Nick started to sweat.
Miguel immediately pulled out a handkerchief and started to wipe Nick's brow. Nick gently pushed his hand away. "I'm okay, it's not—"
"You're not supposed to overheat, you know—"
"I'm not a fucking child."
Sarah's eyes widened. Half the train car turned in their direction and then quickly turned away again. Miguel looked pained, his hand still holding the handkerchief awkwardly near Nick's forehead.
Nick looked down. "I'm sorry, Mi, I just…you're good at it, and you've been more than anyone could have hoped for, but I am so fucking sick of being cared for." He took a deep breath. "So sick of it."
Miguel carefully folded the handkerchief and put it back in his bag. "Yeah, well…I'm kind of sick of being a caregiver, honestly. Not that I won't keep doing it as long as I need to."
Nick reached for Miguel's bag, pulled out the handkerchief, and wiped his own forehead. "There," he said. "That's a start."
Miguel smiled and then abruptly started to cry. Nick hugged him, and in their muffled exchange Sarah could make out a mixture of anger and relief, of being in a strange place and not really knowing how to move forward, but knowing that they would. She sat awkwardly next to them until Miguel pulled her into the hug.
"We owe you, you know," Miguel said.
Sarah laughed. "Me? What did I do?"
"Well, a lot of babysitting, for one. And your bizarre love life made for an interesting distraction."
She rolled her eyes. "Happy to have been of service."
They sat in silence for another few minutes. The train still didn't move. Another passenger got up and pulled down one of the windows, examining the opening. To Sarah's horror, he started to climb out.
"What the…"
One of the other passengers got up. "Hey, man, you don't wanna do that," he called out.
The other man ignored him, wiggling his body through the narrow window space and out of the train. "Fuck this. I'm not sitting here until they fix this shit."
"Dude, you could get electrocuted! Or hit by another train!" someone else shouted.
The passenger ignored them. Sarah could hear his footsteps walking along the track. A few other passengers glanced at the window, but no one tried to climb out.
Miguel glanced at his watch. "Okay, we're officially super late, but just to confirm, nobody's climbing out a goddamn window, right?"
Nick and Sarah nodded. "Right."
The train grew hotter. Nick began to sweat in earnest. Miguel took out a thermos of cold water, took a swig, and casually offered it to Nick, who drank eagerly.
Sarah closed her eyes. "I, uh…" She cleared her throat. "I might be able to get us out of this."
Two heads swiveled to stare at her. "What?" Miguel asked.
"Yeah, like…you have MTA connections?" Nick added.
"No, just…I could wish us out of here."
Nick looked puzzled. "I thought you and Jareth weren't exactly friendly at the moment."
"We're not. But, you know, desperate times—"
There was a sudden lurch as the train came back to life and began moving sluggishly down the tracks. A few people applauded, and Sarah breathed a sigh of relief.
Miguel squeezed her hand. "Based on what you've told me, Sarah, it's not a good idea to mess around with wishes. Seems like they always have consequences."
"Yeah." She shivered—she'd been remarkably close to doing it. "Yeah, they do."
Lori didn't answer the bell when they arrived. They waited outside for a moment until Miguel remembered that he had a spare key, so they let themselves in the front door and walked up the three flights of stairs to the apartment.
The apartment door was also locked. "Maybe she's taking a particularly long shower. Or she stepped out for a minute."
Sarah was puzzled. "She would've texted us."
They let themselves into the apartment, quietly calling out Lori's name in case Jaye was napping. The living room was messy—laundry was piled in one corner, food containers in the kitchen, baby-related accessories all over the floor and sofa. Sarah absently started putting food containers in a garbage bag. Nick sat down to rest on the sofa.
Miguel returned from a quick investigation of the bedroom and bathroom. "No one here. Maybe her phone was dead, I'm guessing she'll be back soon."
Sarah glanced over at the pile of laundry. "I think I saw a wash-and-fold downstairs at the corner, could you—"
Her phone buzzed, and she immediately felt relieved. "That must be her now."
The image on her screen, though, showed an unfamiliar number. "Hello?"
"Hi." The voice didn't immediately ring any bells. "It's Vinh."
Sarah blinked, experiencing that all-too-familiar sensation of realizing that this person knew her and she didn't know them, or at least didn't remember where she'd met them. Vinh…Vinh…
And then it came back to her in a rush.
"Vinh! Wow, uh…sorry, I guess I didn't expect you to call."
"Yeah, I, uh, did a little sleuthing to find your number. If that's creepy I'll hang up right now and you'll never hear from me again."
"No!" She felt herself blushing and realized that both Nick and Miguel were now looking at her with a great deal of interest. "No, not creepy at all, I'm, uh…glad you called. Kind of in the middle of something right now, though, so can I call you back?"
"Sure. You've got my number now."
"Yeah. Promise I won't ghost, just gotta deal with some stuff."
"Cool. I'll, uh, be waiting."
She hung up and tried to return her attention to the garbage and the laundry. "Like I was saying, I think there's a wash-and-fold—"
"Who was that?" Miguel asked, a familiar smirk on his face.
Sarah felt the blush intensifying. "A guy."
"Yeah, a guy named Vinh, I got that much. What's the context?"
She threw more food containers in the trash bag. "I may have kissed him in a bar that night when I was drunk-texting you."
Nick's mouth fell open. "You kissed a guy in a bar?"
"Yeah, and?"
Miguel rolled his eyes. "And details! Given that it's been, like, years since I heard you talk about kissing anyone other than you-know-who…"
"Yeah, well, not much to report, it was just—"
Nick joined in. "Is he cute? Young? Old? Artist? Wall Street type?"
"Wall Street type?!" She stared at him in mock horror. "What the hell do you take me for?"
Nick raised an eyebrow. "Someone whose last boyfriend was an immortal baby stealer?"
Sarah raised an eyebrow back at him. "You did not just go there."
Nick threw up his hands. "Fine, fine, just tell us more about him."
Sarah tied up the garbage bag and set it on the floor in the kitchen. "Well, he's an I.T. guy, just moved here from Hawaii, very nice arms, very…"
Sarah's eyes had suddenly fallen on a pile of books and toys on Lori's dining table, some of which she recognized from the baby shower several months before. The bright colors of a particular book cover stood out.
She slowly pulled the book out from beneath a stuffed duck toy and some kind of soft-felt baby mobile that Lori apparently hadn't gotten around to hanging. It was a copy of Outside Over There, almost identical to the one she'd owned years before, though of course less faded.
"Sarah?" Miguel's voice sounded far away. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I…" She opened the book, flipping pages to reveal the familiar drawings. "I had a copy of this when I was a kid."
A feeling of dread began to pool in Sarah's stomach. Slowly, trance-like, she walked into the bedroom.
"Sarah? Sarah, what's going on?"
She stared at Jaye's crib and then closed her eyes, hoping that she'd imagined it, but when she opened them it was impossible not to notice.
The edges of the crib were covered with a faint sheen of glitter.
Her heart began to pound. She looked down into the empty crib and saw something that Miguel must have missed—a small piece of paper resting next to Jaye's pillow. With shaking hands, she picked it up. The looping script was familiar.
I had no choice.
Author's note: Sorry to leave things hanging, but the next chapter's a bit of a beast, will get it revised & uploaded soon.