Chapter 2: Two Unexpected Things
"Morning," Sara called down the hallway as she stumbled down the hallway.
"Afternoon," Her brother corrected her, poking his head out of the kitchen doorway for a moment before ducking back inside.
Sara followed him in, hair tangled on one side, glasses clipped to the collar of her sweater. She sniffed a few times and then glanced at the stove. "Are you cooking?" She asked.
"I am," Spencer answered.
"You don't cook," She said skeptically, putting her face dangerously close to the stove.
"Allow me to remind you again that I actually lived by myself for seven years," Spencer pointed out sarcastically, pushing his sister out of his way.
"Yes, but what is that?" Sara asked, raising an eyebrow as he divided the contents of pan on to two plates.
Spencer rolled his eyes and set the plates on the table, "It's chicken pasta."
Sara sat down at her plate, "But there's cheese on it."
"So?"
"Is that a can of manwhich?" She asked, pointing to the mess on the counter.
"Just eat, would you?" Spencer asked, pushing her plate closer to her.
Sara grimaced, "I'm not saying you'll poison me, but when the EMTs show up make sure they bring this to the hospital."
Having delayed the inevitable for long enough, she ended her stream of complaints and picked up a fork. Spencer began to eat his chicken-pasta-which-happened-to-have-cheese-on-it- and-possibly-manwhich while watching his sister out of the corner of his eye. Having taken a few cautious bites of the first meal her brother had prepared on his own in over three months, Sara was silently cleaning her plate, a little disappointed that there wasn't even an awful after taste to mock her brother about.
Spencer sat watching as his sister finished the last of her food, looking immensely pleased with himself and more than a little smug. He began to say something when a phone rang in the other room.
"Thank you for the meal brother, excuse me," Sara said, feigning formality as she rose from the table. Spencer laughed and waved her away, wondering how long it would take to clean off the counter.
"Hello?" Sara answered the phone, the earring stud she wore knocking against the cell phone screen.
"Hi," Said a man on the other line.
Not recognizing the voice, she waited for him to announce who he was.
"Sorry, who is this?" She said after a few moments.
The man laughed uncomfortably, "Oh, sorry. This is Sara, right?"
"Yes, who would you be?"
"Charlie Hillridge… sorry was this a bad time?"
Sara fumbled with the phone, "No, of course not! Hi, how are you?" She said quickly.
Of course she remembered Charlie Hillridge. Nearly a year earlier he and two other girls had been rescued from a house on Mosley Lane near Ashburn Virginia. He'd saved the girls and shot his captor moments before Derek and Emily had arrived. She'd only been filled in the details long after the kids had left with their families.
What she remembered was the sheer relief in his eyes, standing there in the middle of the FBI, safe for the first time in what must have felt like decades. His hair had been shaggy, and he had a thin layer of dirt covering him at the time. He'd looked lost.
"Better," He said simply. "A lot better actually."
"That's good," She said happily, stunned that he remembered their brief meeting so long ago.
Another brief pause.
"I found the card you gave me, and I thought I'd call to say hi," Charlie said by way of an explanation. He didn't sound nervous at all, but confused by how to proceed.
"Well thanks, I'm glad to hear from you," Sara answered, walking in lazy circles around the room, running a finger along the spines of the books stacked neatly on each of the walls.
"This is sort of weird, but would you want to hang out sometime? I don't go to school, and it's been hard meeting people our age," He continued, audibly fumbling with the phone. "I know it's weird, but Mom's been worried that I haven't started making friends."
Though she hadn't met Sarah Hillridge, Spencer had told her about Charlie's mother, and her son making friends seemed like the sort of thing that she would worry about. Mrs. Hillridge had lost eight years with her son, and had missed eight years of helping him learn to maneuver the world. Of course she wanted the best for her son, which would be for him to adjust to living in the world he'd missed so much of.
"It's not weird, believe me," Sara assured him. The situation was weird, but understandable. "We could make plans to do something this week if you want, I'm already done with school for the year."
Charlie smiled to himself, making friends seemed easier than he'd anticipated. This was easier than trying to talk to his sister's friends, being introduced to someone who already knew you as 'Emily's little brother who was abducted for eight years' put a damper on things pretty easily.
"Good, can I call you about it in a few days?" He asked, not wanting to keep Sara on the phone for too long.
"Sure, talk to you soon."
"Bye."
Sara waited for Charlie to hang up before pushing 'end call'. She slipped the phone into the pocket of the hoodie she wore over her pajamas and flopped over on the couch, sinking into the scratchy cushions.
"Who was that?" Spencer asked, stepping into the living room. He pushed Sara's legs off the couch without a second thought before dropping into the place they had previously occupied, putting his own up on the coffee table. As usual, his socks don't match.
Sara felt the phone in her pocket, still in a state of disbelief. "Charlie Hillridge," She answered, sounding shocked by her own answer.
Spencer's eyebrows shot up, eyes wide. "You mean-?"
"Yeah, that one," She assured him. "He was looking for someone to be friends with, and he found the card I gave him." She paused, running a thumb over the corner of the cell phone that stuck out of her pocket. "I thought he must have forgot about me."
"I doubt Charlie's the type of person who can forget people," Spencer said thoughtfully.
"You're probably right," Sara agreed with him.
Spencer smiled at her, "And I doubt he'd forget I can cook," He muttered sarcastically.
Sara snorted, "You can't cook, and you've never cooked for me once!"
Spencer stared back at her incredulously, watching the smirk spread across his sister's face. She does her best to look back at him innocently, but it's obvious that she's pleased with herself. Spencer rolled his eyes and pushed her lightly on the shoulder, hard enough for her to tip over on the couch.
"It's one in the afternoon, get dressed. Sleeping that long is going to lower your life expectancy," He smirked back, getting up from the couch, the pile of dishes still waiting for him in the kitchen.
The quieter you become the more you can hear
Hi guys, I know it's been a Long Time. Sorry. But I'm back on track for writing now and I have a lot planned, so thanks for your patience.
