Author's Note: Well, here's the fifth chapter... I was expecting to put some more into the story... but I didn't. Thank you, reviewing people, you rock! Keep it up, please! If there's anything in the story that you think might need some tweaking, I'll be happy to know, 'kay? Thanks! Read and Review!
It was a new morning, three days after Isaac was forced to leave the premises, and Sarah strove to yet again reclaim her life. Her mind had been continually nagging her since the constables had left the Benbow Inn, refusing to stop its guilty thoughts for longer than a moment, even when the young woman lay down to rest. Sarah wanted to put the whole nasty business behind her, but the perpetual suspicions that perhaps Isaac had not been the culprit made it a difficult endeavor. It seemed that the weight that the letters had placed upon her already over-burdened shoulders was lifted, only to be replaced by a heavier weight. One of the heaviest of all, it seemed. Shame.
Sarah stared out of the wide window that looked out from the inn's dining area. The skies were their familiar grey, created by the machinery that was constantly at work in the nearby mines. The shingle outside swayed back and forth in the light Montressor breeze, creaking on its hinges, mute to Sarah's ear. Small fast-moving specks glided through the open sky, random birds and rays that broke the dreariness of the planet's atmosphere. Dirty clouds drifted across the colorless expanse.
It was a strange metaphor to the feelings that she housed within, she thought as she examined the sullied skies without. Though it was day, it seemed darkness lurked in everything. Sarah knew that her problem had been solved; she would no longer have to deal with the weariness or worry that Isaac's love letters had caused. And yet, she continued to feel the discomfort that should have been left behind. Like the coming day should have vanquished the night. Yet, day in Montressor was still shadowed. And her mind stayed bothered by her sadness.
"You regret what you did, don't you, Mrs. Hawkins?"
Sarah jumped at the voice as it broke through her contemplations. She looked to her side, noticing that Anthony Bronson had joined her unnoticed during her thoughts. He looked worried, as if he were able to sense all that Sarah was reflecting, though it remained unspoken. She lowered her eyes to the thin sill of the window where her fingers rested, tapping them softly against the wood. How was she supposed to respond to his question? What answer could she concoct, what reply could she create that would not push the young Canid further into concern?
"What do you mean?" she demanded at length, returning her gaze to where the metal docks sat outside.
Anthony Bronson licked his thin lips, as if he were not able to easily explain his question. He looked down at his feet, his usually smooth brow furrowing with his uneasy thoughts. After a moment, he lifted his sights slightly higher, watching quietly as her long fingers tapped restlessly. He lifted his hand to Sarah's, patting it gently. "Mrs. Hawkins," he began slowly, "you did not want Isaac to leave, did you?"
Sarah seemed to jerk slightly, her spine straightening at the question, much more blatant than the first. Anthony stopped any movement, startled by Sarah's sudden twitch.
"Mrs. Hawkins?" he asked, tilting his head in confusion. "Mrs. Hawkins, is there something-"
"How dare you!" Sarah interrupted him suddenly, wrenching her hand away from his. "How could you suggest something like that?"
Anthony's jumped backward, surprised by the young woman's sudden outburst. "What?" he questioned loudly, pulling his hand from the sill.
"Isaac is an ass, Anthony!" Sarah continued, giving him an angry glare. "He didn't care about what I was going through, he toyed with my feelings; I'm glad he's gone!"
Anthony stood quietly, listening to what she said with an understanding nod. "Mrs. Hawkins," he said, approaching her again, taking one of her shoulders, "I didn't mean it like that."
"I can't believe him," she muttered, shaking her head. "All he's done to me... and it was all for some stupid laughs, too." Sarah felt her eyes become moist, tears forming, ready to fall. No! she thought angrily, looking to the ceiling above in hopes of stifling any weeping. No! I am not going to cry! Not right here, not right now! I am not going to cry!
Anthony watched her, unable to see her face, but realizing from the sudden slouch in her shoulders what was going on. He bit his bottom lip, unsure how to deal with the situation. There were many things that he could do, many of them things that he would like to do, but many of them things that he could not consider doing. She was his employer; something so much as a hug would most probably be frowned upon. So, all he could settle upon doing was stay behind her, patting her shoulder, muttering reassuring words to her as she strived to cease her crying.
I thought I could trust him, Sarah thought, wiping away any tears that happened to escape her eyes. But he lied to me... Why does that hurt so much?
"Anthony," she said after a while, trying her best not to hiccup, "I have to discuss something with you."
"Yes, Mrs. Hawkins?"
"With Isaac gone," she began, pausing for a moment as if thinking of his name, "I have no assistant manager... and as much as I'd like to put out another notice for a new position, it would be easier for me if I could just use someone I already have who's qualified for the job."
"Mrs. Hawkins?" Anthony asked, slowly realizing what she meant. He realized that she was doing her best to change the subject, trying to ignore the feelings that his mention had flared up.
"Anthony," she said, sighing. She turned round wiping away the last drips that had managed to fall, and she feigned a smile. She proffered the Canid a congratulatory hand. "Would you be my new assistant?"
Anthony stared at her hand, blinking in disbelief. "Me?" he asked, his mouth hanging open wide when he stopped speaking.
"Yes, Anthony, you," Sarah replied, her hysterical emotions finally sinking away. She let out a friendly giggle.
The Canid shook his head, letting out an incredulous laugh, and running a hand over his hair. "Well, this is unbelievable!" he exclaimed, his smile widening with every moment.
"Not really, Anthony, you deserve it!" Sarah patted her colleague's back.
"This is an honor, Mrs. Hawkins," he said, taking her hand and shaking it vigorously. "An absolute honor!"
Two weeks passed without incident, Anthony being on cloud nine for the whole experience. Why he felt so proud of himself, Sarah wasn't sure; becoming assistant may mean one has a higher position than waiter, but it also guarantees a great amount of different other tasks that one would have to deal with. It may not exactly be clearing tables after dinner (though Sarah did assist her employees with this, it was only because she felt a sort of closeness to the customers and crew when doing so), but the great amount of monetary work was about as tiring.
Sarah was doing much better; the day when the letter would have come had passed, and she was relieved to find that there was nothing more suspicious than dust sitting on her sill. Though she spent a good amount of time asking herself why she would expect a letter to be there, what with Isaac being gone and all, it was a relatively happy day for her. Her condition soon bettered, until soon enough the thoughts of Isaac and the love notes disappeared. Her friendly countenance reemerged, the bags beneath her eyes becoming less obvious for the smile that brightened her face. Running the Benbow Inn was once again a thing that she enjoyed.
Morph seemed happy too, for unknown reasons. He had begun acting normally, though the sudden joy seemed more than what was usual for him at certain instances. He no longer moped about the dining room as he had for the past month or so, and now found pleasure in floating along, repeating back the words of child guests and taking form of almost every other thing he encountered. Sarah's mood only rose higher upon noticing this. It must be the time he's been spending outside, she thought, smiling. Well, there's one of my better ideas.
Anthony was acting somewhat anxious, though, as Sunday approached. Sunday was surprisingly almost always a busy day for the Benbow Inn. It seemed that every alternating week they were playing host to another Sunday luncheon for one of their town's social groups. Which meant a lot of food and a lot of service. Which, in turn, meant a lot of work. Which, in a much more enjoyable turn, meant a lot of money. But of course, many who were employed in the inn couldn't usually look past "a lot of work" when it came about. Sunday's demanding tasks were partially a reason why the letters were such a strain. They had always come on a Sunday.
This time around, the event turned to be a birthday party other than a luncheon. Children were everywhere, which meant a greater amount of labor than any normal adult occasion. Sarah had her hands full trying to keep the children from breaking anything, and Anthony, who seemed to have a terrible time dealing with anything younger than sixteen, was left to deal with things behind the scenes. Children around here, especially friends of one young birthday boy named Ethan, seemed to enjoy chaos more than candy or cake. Sarah figured this, considering that they all chose to throw both, among other food items, around the inn.
It was just after another bout of food fighting (that Sarah had strategically stopped with the suggestion of party games) that Mrs. Dunwuddie came into the dining area. Sarah had noticed her not because she had made a freakishly loud noise (though it seemed at the time that it would take one to avert her attention from the pandemonium taking place around her), but the look that she had on her face. And, the fact that the woman had tripped on a stray piece of cake had rather helped.
"Are you okay, Mrs. Dunwuddie?" Sarah asked, rushing to help the patron up to her tentacles.
"Yes, yes, of course," the woman answered, straightening her blue bonnet after righting herself. Sarah blinked. She almost expected something of a loud complaint from the woman; it seemed in her character. She noted the anxious look that Mrs. Dunwuddie held.
"Is there something wrong?" Sarah asked, curious.
"Well, dear, there is something," Mrs. Dunwuddie replied, glancing out the dinging area window. Sarah followed her gaze, and, though it might attribute to the angle that she stood to it (far to the right), she saw nothing.
"Is there something outside?" Sarah suggested after the woman remained silent.
"Well, yes," Dunwuddie replied, nodding. "There's a... well, not to alarm you, but there is a suspicious figure standing outside of your inn."
"A suspicious figure?" Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes!" Dunwuddie nodded her head, acknowledging Sarah's accuracy. "A strange man... he's... well, he's..."
"Is he doing something inappropriate?" Sarah questioned, wondering what could have made the woman so anxious.
"Well... no, I don't suppose... He's just... standing there."
"Standing there?" Sarah asked, furrowing her brow.
"Yes, standing there!" The woman noted Sarah's incredulous look. "Well, you'd understand if you saw him!"
Sarah gave her a short smile. "Would you feel better if I checked it out, Mrs. Dunwuddie?"
The woman nodded her yes, and Sarah thanked her, and told her that a waiter would be with her shortly. She called Anthony's name, and the Canid peeked his head from behind the door of a separate room.
"Yes, Mrs. Hawkins?" he asked, eyeing the surrounding messiness with a sort of uneasiness.
"Anthony, I have to check something outside," Sarah told him. She handed him an apron. "I need you to take care of the kids for a while."
"But, Mrs. Hawkins!" Anthony protested, obviously against having anything to do with the wriggling mass of rowdy children that swarmed about the dining area. "Can't you ask Catherine to do it, or maybe Raul...?"
"Catherine's working in the kitchens today, and Raul is already dealing with the other customers," Sarah answered, grabbing one of his arms in an attempt to pull him out of the safety of his chamber.
"There are other customers?" the Canid asked incredulously. Sarah gave him a strange look.
"Of course. Now, come on," she said, finally pulling him out of the room. "You've still got to do what I tell you, you know."
"But, Mrs. Hawkins-"
"It won't take more than a minute, Anthony!" Sarah said, frustrated. "Don't be such a baby!"
Anthony let out a sigh, accepting the apron, and pulling it around his neck. He made his way to the dining area, but turned round and pointed a finger at her. "Not more than a minute, you remember!"
"Not more than a minute," Sarah verified with a nod. She made her way out of the door just as another food fight broke out.
Author's Note: That's the end... guess who's outside. I was drawing pictures of Anthony and Isaac after I wrote this... I was going to link up my pictures with this chapter, but I decided that would be pushing it a little bit, don't you think? Read and Review! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, PLEASE!