Sarah would not have known there might be trouble at work if she had not had to wait in line at the gas station and seen Tony's face splashed across dozens of tabloids.
She had known about the interview, of course. Tony had left early in the morning with James and she had spent the day studying Roman architecture in preparation for Howard's book report on Julius Caesar- he wanted to build a scale model of the Senate.
"I don't know why Dad's doing this thing. He's just going to say something stupid and then beat himself up over it for days. Grown-ups can be dumb sometimes."
Sarah had shook her head, "Yeah, I don't know either. You think he'd avoid it, since everything just gets blown up by the press. He says 'bless you' when someone sneezes and the next thing you know the rags are saying he's found religion."
Howard had laughed so hard he snorted, "It's true! It's true!"
And they were right. She picked up a magazine and thumbed through it while she waited. Quotes in colourful text punctuated the article with as little context as possible. A large headline blared "TONY STARK ADMITS TO STRUGGLING WITH SUBSTANCE ABUSE!" and a subheading speculated that Howard was left alone for long stretches of time while his father was stone drunk. An inset article titled "TROUBLE IN THE STARK HOME?" said Tony was unfit to parent the boy and someone should investigate his welfare. She tossed the magazine back on the rack and paid for her coffee and gas.
The house was eerily quiet when she arrived. Howard came from the library to greet her.
"Dad's a mess today. He said I don't have to go to school if I don't want to."
"Do you?"
"Not really- I mean, Bobby's going to have a field day with this. But the teachers might catch him and then it'd finally be over."
"Think, too, about if you need some time away from the house."
He grabbed his backpack, "Got it. Yeah. Let's go."
"Do you want to say goodbye to your dad?"
"He won't notice if I do."
They were on the road before Sarah asked just how bad the morning had been. Howard had found Tony passed out in the bathroom between the toilet and the tub. He wished her luck dealing with the mess.
When Sarah returned to the house, she found Tony in the bathtub, bottles lined up along the side. He was sitting in the warm water completely dressed.
"That bad of a night, eh?" Sarah asked as she entered the room, bucket of soapy water and washrags in hand.
"Yeah. That bad. And messy. You might just want to wait. It'll likely be worse tomorrow."
"And that's exactly why I'm not waiting. It's the same as shovelling snow- if you keep up on it as it comes down, you don't end up digging yourself out from under two feet of the stuff at once."
"Two feet of vomit would be impressive."
"And really gross. Once I'm done in here, you're going to get yourself dry and dressed. You have a big press conference tomorrow and I'm guessing you'd like to feel somewhat human for it."
"Nah, I'll be fine. Piece of cake. And speaking of cake, that sounds good. Or maybe pancakes. Can you make them?"
"I don't want to have to clean them up in half-digested form later."
"Deal."
From the way Tony devoured the pancakes, she guessed that he had not eaten yet. Not long after he had finished breakfast, he opened another bottle of bourbon and Sarah washed dishes while he stared at the television without turning it on.
She made pasta with an avocado sauce for lunch. He hardly touched it. She put the leftovers in the fridge and then her phone rang.
In the office. Need you to come get me. I am OK. Bobby caught. His friends suck.
She showed it to Tony just as his own phone rang. He did not answer it, but listened to the message from the school. He gave her a pleading look and she found her keys.
"Don't do anything stupid before I get back, OK?"
"I'll be fine. I was before you were here."
"That's not how James tells it."
"Rhodey needs to learn to keep his nose out of other people's business."
"You hired me to be nosey."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah...just go get Howie."
""I'm on it, boss."
When she arrived at the school, Howard met her outside the office. She heard someone yelling behind the closed door of the conference room.
" So...what's going on here, kiddo?"
"Bobby got caught. Then his friends tried to beat me up for telling. They thought Mrs Price was the only one watching and since she was gone with Bobby... Well, she wasn't. I got roughed up and pushed around, but Mr Travis stepped in and even though Andrew and Carl ran off, he knew who they were. He dragged Delton and Wicket inside. Everybody's in trouble but me. But I still want to go home."
"Wicket?"
"Some rich kids have weird names."
"I think that's the name of an Ewok."
"Maybe his parents are short and furry."
A very angry man slammed the conference door open, "This was a setup! A setup! My lawyers will-" He ran into Sarah, "Watch where you're going!". He noticed she was with Howard, "So the little saint's father couldn't even bother to sober up for this?"
Sarah kept her face pleasant and her voice even, "As Howard's governess, my business is with overseeing his education, not his father's recreational activities."
"Well you can tell him to expect a call from my lawyer. Bobby's been very traumatised by all this."
"You can tell your lawyer to call his legal team directly. I'm sure they can figure out which firm represents the Stark family." She turned to Howard, "Come on, Howard. We have better things to do than stand here all day." They did not speak much the ride home and when they arrived, he retreated to his sketchbook.
Sarah found Tony sitting in the kitchen, "It may be over at school, but Mr Fritchert said to expect a call from his attorney."
" Eh, not worried. What did you tell him?"
"To have them call your legal team directly."
"Is Howie OK?"
"A little bruised, but yeah. He's glad it's over. There are five boys who won't be back to school tomorrow- likely not ever."
Tony sighed and sipped a cup of coffee, "God, I'm a shitty father."
"Nah, I wouldn't say that. A stressed father, a grieving father, a father struggling to find his feet, sure. But a shitty father? Not a chance."
"Oh come on, Sarah, I can't even manage to pick my kid up from school when he gets beat up. What kind of parent is that?"
"Look, you're not a shitty dad, OK? Take it from someone who actually did have a shitty dad. You. Are. Not."
"So if not this, what would I have to do to reach shit-tastic parenting?"
"Well you could beat him, but in my experience, the headgames are worse than getting the switch. You could tell your kid to move so you can have their bedroom to store an extensive collection of 80s porn. That's pretty shitty. So is convincing your youngest that going to college is a waste of time because no man wants a smart wife while you actively trying to break her heart."
"That's...really really shitty."
"Ashley took every criticism to heart. Mom tried to get custody, but breaking your kid's spirit isn't enough for the courts to intervene. She shut herself off and just stayed home listening to him complain about her not being pretty enough for dating."
"Did he do that to you?"
"Yeah, but I was eighteen- you know, and he wanted his porn library. I told him to go to hell and went to live with Mom."
"What happened to her?"
"She's a marine biologist living in Wales with her girlfriend. It took a few years, but I finally got her to college."
"That's good."
"Yeah. And you're not a shitty dad. You encourage your son to have dreams and to follow them. You let him grow and learn and you do your best to provide everything he needs to satisfy his curiosity. Even when you feel like hell."
Tony took a deep breath and sighed, setting his bottle aside on the counter to give her a hug, "Thanks, Sarah. Really. Perspective is a good thing."
She smiled, then shooed him to the living room, "Now get you gone, boss. I've got to feed the kid and then get him started on his homework before cleaning the kitchen and getting started on dinner."
"More pancakes?"
She shook her head, laughing, "Sure, Tony. Why not?"
He was feeling only marginally better that night and requested that Sarah once again stay the night. She fetched her overnight bag and settled in on the couch, letting Howard watch a little television with her before ushering him off to bed. Tony retreated to his own room saying he was going to tuck in early for the evening. She did not believe him. He was up well into the night and she stayed awake until she saw the light go out under his door.
The next morning came quickly and before long, Sarah was driving her Volvo to New York City with Howard in the front seat, chattering excitedly about all the things he wanted to see, Tony in the back praying that the headache and nausea would subside.
He clutched his coffee and winced as Howard shouted, "Oooo, graveyard! You lose your cows!"
"Cows? What on earth are you two doing up there?"
"Playing 'cows in the graveyard'! You should, too, Dad!"
"No, no. I'm pretty sure whatever crazy that is, my head can't handle it."
"You count the cows you pass on your side and try to get more than the other person. When you pass a cemetery, your cow count resets to zero- and Howard almost always wins because it's hard to count cows while driving."
"I didn't until I figured out my secret method of cow counting."
"You'd beat me, the car's making me feel like crap."
"Hate to break it to you, boss, but it's not the car."
"Yeah, well... Oh shit." Tony scrambled and found a small paper bag, heaving. Sarah cracked the windows. Howard went silent, embarrassed. After, no one spoke for a few minutes.
Sarah sighed, "It's not the first time someone's thrown up in this car. It'll be fine."
"God, Sarah, I'm so sorry."
"Don't worry about it."
"I'll get the car detailed for you, I promise."
She turned down a side road and into the parking lot of a small diner, "This is my friend Maebel's place. She'll lend us a hand."
She parked the car and made a call, "Hey, Mae! It's me. Yeah, doing pretty well. A friend visited the voms and we're at your back door. Can you take care of him and his son while I do the dirty job? You're a peach."
"Sarah, I've got to get to that press conference in time."
"You will. Trust me."
A short, round woman with red hair piled in a high bun met them at the back door, "Come on in, come on in. We'll get you right as rain. You remember where the bucket is, sweetie?"
"Yep. Closet by the basement stairs."
"Good, good. You boys just follow me. You can get cleaned up and feeling better. Honey, do you want some pancakes?"
Sarah cleaned the car the best she could. When she was done, she found Tony sipping a cup of coffee while Howard polished off a plate of silver dollar pancakes and a cup of cocoa.
As they left, Tony tried to pay for their meal but Maebel just smiled and shooed them out the door, "My pleasure, darlin'. You two just be on your way, it's on the house. Come back again sometime!"
Back in the car, Tony wondered about Sarah's home life. She never talked about her friends, and all he knew was she had a sister, a brother with addictions, and a really crappy father. He was about to ask her how she new Maebel when Howard shouted, "COWS!" It could wait and Howard was having far too much fun to interrupt.
When they arrived in New York City, Howard's eyes were glued skyward, his mouth gaping. Tony rarely took him to the city, afraid that the press vultures would descend. Tony had worked incredibly hard to shield his son from becoming a casualty to his fame.
Tony was relieved when they pulled up to the hotel ten minutes early, "Here- pull up for the valet guy."
"Are you sure you want him to know you showed up in your governess' craptastic Volvo?"
"Could be worse. Could be a Pinto."
"I actually had one of those for about two weeks. It caught fire on the highway on my way to school. I kept driving. It made it there, but not back home."
Tony stared at her, "It what?"
"Caught fire. You should have seen the smoke rolling out from under the hood." She tossed a few things in her bag before tossing her keys over the roof to Tony, "Don't worry, this car's never done that."
He handed the keys to the valet, "Hang on a minute. Sarah, you and Howie head to lunch- I'll meet you after the press conference. It shouldn't take long."
As they were walking away, Tony spoke to the valet, "When a guy named James Rhodes asks for that car in about ten minutes, you're going to bring it to him. He'll bring it back. Don't ask any questions and there'll be a good tip when we leave."
The valet agreed and Tony went in to his press conference wondering how badly he was going to mess it up.
Sarah and Howard arrived at the closed restaurant; Howard flopped down on a bench, "Dad said he made a reservation. How are they closed?"
"I don't know, but we can wait for your dad. He said it wouldn't be long."
"He's a recluse and everybody's curious. It won't be short."
"Then I guess it's a good thing Mae got you some pancakes."
"They were really good pancakes."
Sarah saw someone at the host desk and gently tapped on the glass door, waving when she caught the woman's eye, "Here, we can ask her."
The woman cracked the door, "I'm sorry, but we don't open for another hour."
"But my dad said he made a reservation."
"He must have talked to the new girl. You'll have to wait."
"Can you just check your book for a reservation for Howard, Sarah, and Tony? Please?"
She sighed, "Yeah, why not?" Howard watched her flipping through pages at the desk. She stopped and glanced from the book to them and back to the book before hurrying out, "Jesus, why didn't you say your dad is Tony Stark? He reserved the party room early. Come on in." She called back to the kitchen, "Heads up, Roy, the Starks are here- time to get to work!."
They ordered appetizers and drinks. Sarah pulled a deck of cards from her bag and taught Howard how to play blackjack and poker. They were betting with french fries when Tony sat down.
"So tell us about your press conference."
"Ooo, what was the worst question this time, Dad?"
"Someone asked if I still missed your mother. I didn't expect that one at a conference about arc reactor tech in third world countries."
Sarah pushed the fries toward him, "Ouch. Here, fries are the ultimate comfort food."
"The papers tomorrow are going to be crazy."
"Bad enough I should stay home from school? Because I have an art project to talk about tomorrow and I don't want to have to make it up ."
"No, not that bad. I just told him his question was insensitive and off topic, so I wasn't going to answer it."
"Oh. So it'll be the 'what is he hiding' kind of tabloid field day."
"Yep."
Sarah waived to the waitress and they ordered, spending a leisurely lunch joking about the headlines and playing cards.
When they left, the snow had just started to fall, the flakes glittering on the now-spotless hood of the car as the valet brought it around.
"This is my car, right?"
"Yeah. I told you if anything happened to it, I'd get it cleaned same-day."
"This is beyond clean- there's not even a water spot on the thing. And somebody sewed up my seats, too."
"I told them to do whatever they could in the time we had. I think they did pretty well."
She sat down, started the car, and turned on the radio, "They fixed it!"
Tony smiled, "My people have their priorities right."
Sarah was giddy as they drove home, even as the weather worsened. When she could no longer see anything but the lights of the semi she was following at a crawl, she pulled off the main road and found a park.
"Might as well hunker down for a while, the snow doesn't seem to be getting any better and the weather people are saying it won't let up tonight." She turned off the car and crawled over the seat, leaning over the back bench, "Don't open the doors. Come on back, Howard. We're going to get cozy." She tossed blankets on Tony's lap and handed him a small box, "Provisions. There's more back there, but my snowed-in kit is finite."
"You have a kit?"
"Yeah. If you go off the road and get stuck, you want to be able to survive a little while until someone finds you."
"Does this happen a lot?"
"Not to me, but after the once, I don't ever want to be without blankets and food for a day again."
Howard wedged himself between Sarah and Tony, "I've never been stuck in a snowstorm before."
"I could probably call somebody to come get us."
"Nah, let's just ride it out. It'll be fun. Something new for the Starks."
"Being stuck in a small space really isn't my thing."
"Come on, Dad, don't be silly. If we can't get out in the morning, we'll call for help." Tony reluctantly agreed. He handed out the blankets and they huddled together as the car grew colder. Sarah told stories from different mythologies. Howard was fascinated until he dozed off propped against his father. Sarah straightened his blanket and leaned back against the door.
"Wait, you aren't going to finish the story? How does Lugh get into Tara?"
"And here I thought only one of you was listening."
"It's a good story, of course I was listening. And you're a really good storyteller. Where did you learn?"
"At the knee of a man who spun stories of the Old World the way his wife spun thread on the wheel. You don't take a class to become a good storyteller- you pick it up the old way."
"Your grandfather?"
"He was remarkable."
"Tell me about him. We've got the time."
"He was a shipbuilder before he came across the pond. Welsh. He did everything by hand. I watched him turn table legs on a lathe he powered with pedals. He and Babushka's house didn't even have electricity. They lived in this tiny cabin in the middle of the woods with a woodshop bigger than the house. The windows all had that wavy glass, the doors were handmade and solid oak."
"Babushka?"
"Yeah, my Welsh grandfather married a Jewish Russian woman who says she was Red Emma's cousin."
"Was she?"
"Probably not. But I'm not going to let the truth get in the way of a good story. Her memories were hers to recall as she wanted. She was just as radical."
"You don't want to know?"
"No. Not right now."
"Why not?"
"Legacy. If I'm related to Emma, I'm going to feel like I've suddenly got some pretty big shoes to fill. And I just can't do that right now."
"You'd lose friends or something?"
Sarah looked a little uneasy, "No."
"What would Maebel do if you were the next Emma Goldman?"
"Try to talk some sense into me and then fuel me up with pancakes and coffee so I could write for hours. It's not like that would really be anything new, though."
"What about your other friends?"
"You mean my pet rats? Because that's who else I have. Jack and Sally." She fiddled with the edge of her blanket, "It's OK, though. I mean, I do fine."
"Sarah, what are you talking about?"
"You're not the only one with a limited friend circle," she snapped. He put up his hands defensively, "I'm sorry. Just a little touchy. Don't worry about it, though."
He dropped the subject and a slightly uncomfortable silence took over.
"Get some rest, Tony. It'll get mighty cold in here overnight and it'll be easier if you can just snuggle up with the kiddo and sleep through it." She tugged the blanket up to her chin, "Night, boss."
"But I want to know how Lugh gets into the hall..."
She smiled, "Well you're just going to have to wonder. Put away the phone, no cheating. I'll tell you on the drive."
Sarah woke to the snow glittering bright and the sound of a plough truck clearing the parking lot. She stepped out of the car, stretched, and fetched her collapsable shovel, clearing out the plough cast from behind the tires. She waved to the truck driver and headed back to the Stark family home, the boys still asleep in the back seat.