This is from Maria's Perspective
The night had felt unusually long and restful for some reason. My dreams took me back to a vacation trip my family had taken to visit my grandmother in Mexico before she passed away and well before I lost my husband. The memories were bittersweet, filling my heart with both warmth and sorrow.
As I woke up, I could feel a tear on my cheek and the sun’s rays warming my face through the living room window. Startled by the sudden realization that I might have overslept, I bolted upright, fearing that I had missed the alarm and Derrick bringing home Mr. and Mrs. Allen.
Frantically, I glanced at the clock above the fireplace. To my surprise, it was stuck just past 2 o’clock. Confused, I checked my phone, but the battery was completely dead. In a last attempt to figure out the time, I turned to look at the grandfather clock standing tall by the wall. It was ticking away steadily, indicating that it was 8:30 in the morning.
With a surge of energy, I jumped up and ran to the garage, my legs still feeling the effects of sleep. Flinging the door open, I saw that the town car was still missing. Only the other vehicles were parked in the oversize garage. Puzzled, I thought Derrick must have parked it in the driveway. So, I jogged to the front door and opened it, only to find nothing there. The driveway was empty.
I took a few steps out and looked around. The only car there was mine, tucked out of the way. I stopped and listened. But couldn’t hear any vehicles driving in the distance.
Breathing in the morning air, I was surprised. The air outside was a bit smoky, and I couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong. Everything seemed just a bit off, too, still. I could only hear birds singing and a few dogs barking in the distance. Everything else felt like it was frozen.
Walking back into the house, I closed the front door and glanced at the small table near the door, where a landline phone rested. Picking it up, I tried to remember Derrick’s number, but there was no dial tone. Frustrated, I placed the receiver back down, turned around, and leaned against the door, trying to understand what was happening.
Determined to find a solution, I returned to the couch and picked up my phone. No matter how many buttons I pressed, it still refused to turn on. I rummaged through my bag and found my charger. I went to the nearest wall plug and plugged in my phone, hoping it would spring back to life. After waiting a few seconds, I was disappointed that nothing had changed. It was still dead and unresponsive.
Frustrated, I tried another wall plug, but this one didn’t work either. I stared at a blank phone with a cable attached to a dead charger.
Suddenly, I heard a cute little yawn from behind me. I turned around to see Emma standing there, rubbing her eyes with her tiny hands. I couldn’t help but smile at her sleepy little face. After finishing her yawn, she stomped up to me and wrapped her arms around me in a hug.
“Good morning, Emma,” I said softly, my eyes crinkling in a smile.
“Good morning,” she mumbled, her eyes still half-closed. Suddenly, she looked up at me, her curiosity piqued, and asked, “Why are the lights out?”
I furrowed my brow, slightly taken aback by her question. I didn’t even think of trying the light switches with how much light was pouring through the windows. “What do you mean, sweetie?”
She explained, pointing down the hall, “The lights in the bathroom didn’t turn on when I went to pee. And the water didn’t work well either.”
I quickly racked my brain for an explanation, not wanting to alarm her. With a smile still on my face, I shrugged and said, “It’s probably just a power outage, honey.”
Emma nodded childishly, understandingly, her eyes drifting to the window. “Oh, probably,” she agreed, seemingly satisfied with the answer. She pointed to the window and asked, “Can we play in the park while Mom and Dad are asleep?”
Thinking quickly, I responded, “I’m not sure if Mom and Dad are back yet, sweetie.”
Emma’s eyes widened with concern as she looked up at me. “Where are they?”
I tried to reassure her with a smile, quickly explaining, “Derrick will bring them home soon. They must have stopped by somewhere on the way home.”
Before Emma could respond, we both jumped as we heard Michel’s scream from the other side of the house, “Why doesn’t the toilet flush?!”
I exchanged a glance with Emma, and we burst out laughing, unable to contain ourselves.
Michel ran down the hall, his face flushed with embarrassment. He only sped up when he saw me hugging Emma. I managed to turn just in time to shield Emma from his attempted tackle and hug, catching him with one arm instead.
With both of them by my side, I looked down and said comfortingly, “Don’t worry, you two. Everything will be fine.”
The kids didn’t seem entirely convinced by my reassurance, so I tried a different tactic to distract them. I enthusiastically smiled and asked, “How about some food? Are you two hungry?”
Their faces lit up, and they screamed in unison, “Yes!”
I led them to the kitchen, pretending to use them as anchor points where I could only walk when they stood with my hands stretched between them. We noticed a large puddle on the floor as we entered the kitchen. The kids giggled at the sight of the puddle and my startled reaction.
“Alright, you two,” I said, trying to maintain control of the situation, “sit at the table and wait while I figure this out.”
I exaggeratedly danced around the puddle, eliciting more giggles from Emma and Michel. As I reached the fridge, I noticed the water coming from there. I pointed it out to the kids, a look of mock horror on my face.
“Looks like our fridge decided to take a leak!” I exclaimed, trying to keep the mood light.
The kids laughed, their earlier concerns momentarily forgotten, and I couldn’t help but join them in their amusement. With the power out, I quickly opened the door, grabbed cheese and meat from the fridge, and closed the door with a huff.
The kids seemed to enjoy my theatrics, so I continued stalking over to the pantry.
Continuing my theatrical performance, I dove into the pantry and triumphantly pulled out a bag of bagels. The kids’ eyes widened with excitement at the sight of them. Looking at the bag, I realized it was the sweet blueberry one. Shrugging, I said, “First time for everything.”
Striding over to the toaster, I tried to toast the bagels but remembered that the power was out. Not to be deterred, I grabbed a skillet and used the gas stove to toast the bagels for the kids and myself. The scent of toasting bagels filled the kitchen, adding to the cozy atmosphere.
Meanwhile, the kids started babbling to each other about something, their earlier worries seemingly forgotten. Relaxing, I said a quick prayer for my family, Derrick, and Mr. and Mrs. Allen. I focused on finishing breakfast, placing the toasted bagels on plates, and adding cheese and deli meat slices.
With a flourish, I grabbed the kids’ attention and delivered the plates to the table, and the kids clapped and cheered, excited for their breakfast. Their enthusiasm was contagious, and I couldn’t help but smile as I sat down to join them in the impromptu feast.
Out of nowhere, Michel’s face suddenly took on a worried expression. “When will Mom and Dad be home?” he asked, his tiny voice tinged with concern.
I didn’t want to let them spiral into worry, so I quickly thought of a way to distract them. “I’m not sure, sweetie, but you know what? Cooking these bagels on the skillet reminds me of when I would visit my grandmother. She lived in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere in Mexico. They didn’t have much electricity, and gas was more expensive than wood, so they would cook on an outdoor wood stove most of the time. Do you know those old cowboy cartoons you like? It was kind of like that!”
The eyes of the kids shifted from worry to wonder as they listened to my story, their imaginations taking over. My deflection and distraction seemed to be working again. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief but couldn’t help feeling a pang of concern for my family and the Allens. I hoped they would be home soon, safe and sound.
In my heart, I also longed to be with my own children, praying that everything would turn out alright.