Chapter Text
Evie magically healed by the time she had a sleepover planned with Rena, but not before she had missed the rest of the week at school.
“My throat feels soo much better and my nose isn’t blocked anymore, SEE!” She tipped her head back to show Simon her nostrils, standing up while he sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal.
“Hmm as long as your temperature isn’t too bad,” he responded, chewing on the too soggy cornflakes. As she ran into the bathroom to find the thermometer, Simon’s phone started buzzing. Beth’s contact picture flashed onto the screen.
“Hey Simon,” her usual cheery voice slightly hoarser through the tinny speaker,
“Hey Beth, everything alright?”
“Yeah. Well no, well they will be,” she rambled, pausing to cough, “I’ve got tonsillitis, and they’ve booked me in for a tonsillectomy next week because I’ve had it so many times.”
As she explained, Evie returned with the thermometer hanging out of her mouth, removing it and throwing her hands in the air silently, dancing around as she pointed to the number. “I’m fine! I’m okay to go to Rena’s!” She whisper-shouted.
“Oh I’m so sorry Beth I hope you’re okay,” Simon said down the phone, then covered the speaker to shush Evie, “I’m glad, go get your stuff together.”
She punched the air then disappeared through the door.
“Thanks, yeah I should be okay to come back in two weeks, depends how it all goes I guess.”
Simon nodded, fully aware she couldn't hear nodding but too busy trying to figure out how to staff his week.
“Okay Beth, I hope it all goes okay, take the rest of the weekend off too, hope you feel better soon, I’ll sort it all out.”
He hung up and scrubbed his face with his hand, head swimming with all the things he needed to organise now, instead of having a peaceful weekend off. Thank God Evie was going to Rena’s.
Rena was Evie’s oldest friend, they’d met in the specialist elementary school that Simon had enrolled Evie in when they’d left Eden. It was a school for kids who’d gone through significant trauma or other extenuating circumstances that prevented them from attending regular school. Evie started in third grade, as Simon was worried about sending her to school for a while after escaping, hell he didn’t let her out of his sight for more than 20 minutes at a time through fear of someone finding them, so he mostly taught her at home while they were living with his friend.
When he got the job at The Hail Mary he knew he needed her to be in full time education, so spent a while looking for the perfect school, and eventually found it. Rena and Evie became friends very quickly, Rena having been enrolled after spending most of her early childhood in and out of the hospital. Her parents had become very good friends of Simon’s, and were always around to look after Evie when Ava wasn’t around. He was very grateful for the small support system he’d formed in San Francisco, but often felt like he used them as childcare above anything else. He couldn’t remember the last time he went over there just for a drink or a chat. And this time was no better.
“Simon!” Rena’s mum, Oleysa, answered the door, “It’s so nice to see you!”
They stood in the red doorway of the 3 story house in the fanciest part of the city, the warmth from inside battling against the November afternoon chill coming from behind them.
“Hey Oleysa, good to see you too, thanks for having her over,” he went to gesture to Evie, but she’d already snaked underneath the woman’s arm towards Rena, who was giggling by the door. They disappeared up the stairs immediately, leaving the two adults in the doorway.
They exchanged small talk as she led him to the kitchen, through the hallway past smiling pictures. Simon’s heart warmed as he saw Evie in a few, and a group picture from a barbeque they’d had the year before, with him crouched in the corner next to Oleysa’s wife. They were a very ‘picture perfect’ family, complete with a small fluffy dog and white picket fenced garden, and Simon felt honoured if slightly out of place in it.
“Can I get you some tea? Coffee?” She breezed over to the kettle, switching it on before she got a response. She was wearing a light brown cardigan which swished when she moved and worn-in black jeans. Her long brown hair was piled in a bun and her dark rimmed glasses were perched on her forehead.
“Coffee, please.” he sat down on one of the stools facing her and leaned on the table.
She moved around the space, grabbing coffee granules from the cupboard, two mismatched blue mugs, a carton of milk from the fridge. “So how are you? It’s been too long!”
“It has, I’m sorry. Work’s been a lot.” He gave her a tired half-smile which she saw through entirely. She stopped, sugar in hand.
“Elaborate.”
Simon didn’t talk to a lot of people, especially about his problems and especially not recently, but Olesya had a way of asking and listening that made him feel safe and supported in a way not many others could.
She was predominantly non-judgemental, except when she needed to step in, and she would. Simon told her about Beth and the rotas he needed to organise, the guy that had verbally abused them in the bar, and the long week he’d had juggling a sick child and sick employees. He opened his mouth to tell her about the bowl incident and how he was really struggling with that recently, but refrained. That was the line.
She gave him advice in her calm, blunt tone and he started to relax. Somehow she found a way to simplify his problems in a way that didn’t make him feel stupid, but understood.
“Lisa is always telling me I should have been a therapist instead of engineer,” She said with a shrug, “but I prefer cars to people.”
Simon nodded with a small laugh into his coffee. A warm silence settled in the kitchen and Simon felt slightly at peace for the first time in a long time. It was brief, however, as his phones’ ringtone sliced through it.
“Hey Seb.”
“Hey Simon, I’m just outside, are you on your way?”
Shit. He’d given Beth the day off then completely forgotten. And she was supposed to open.
He apologised to Seb, apologised to Oleysa, shouted a goodbye up the stairs to Evie and ran out of the front door.
He pulled up outside The Hail Mary to find Seb, Tyler and Rose hovering by the door. Shit.
“Hey guys, so sorry, Beth’s off for the next few weeks and I got a bit mixed up.” Beth was the assistant manager, so the only other one with keys. He unlocked the door and ushered them in.
“Right,” He clapped his hand against his thigh, “I left everything at home because I came straight from dropping Evie off, so Tyler you are in charge.” All the eyes in the bar went to the 22 year old.
“Me?”
“Him?” Rose raised her eyebrows,
“Yes, him. He’s been here the longest and I do trust him. I’ll be back within the hour, and I’ll call in some reinforcement. Please open on time.” He threw the keys at the still-bewildered man, and ran back out of the door.
The shift went by okay, Simon grabbed his laptop and change of clothes from home and abandoned his ‘always walk to work’ ethos in order to return within the hour like he promised. He rang every other employee he had and finally reached one, Dylan, who could work at the last minute.
This meant that he could sit in the office and spend the evening reworking the week to fill in the gaps Beth had left and still be able to pick Evie up at least twice so he only had to organise three pick ups. It was a squeeze and he was probably understaffed, but it was doable. “Hey Simon, could I go on my break?” Seb leaned into the office timidly. He was a lanky 26 year old, and Simon’s newest employee. He seemed nice, very eager and a bit unsure of himself.
“Sure man, could you just check if these dates work for you this week?”
He came up to Simon’s shoulder and leaned over. “Yeah I think so.”
Rose was trickier, but after promising her free reign over shifts after Beth was back, she agreed. Simon left that evening with a sense of accomplishment and exhaustion that radiated over his entire body.
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94%.
Grace stared at Harry’s retest, triple checking that the number was correct, though he didn’t doubt the boy’s knowledge for a second. He was sitting on his couch, surrounded by tests and homework in an ‘organised mess’ that no one else would be able to navigate. He’d woken up late, it being a Saturday, and after spending the entirety of the morning doing every errand around his small flat that wasn’t marking a week’s worth of scribbled paragraphs on evolution and diseases, he’d decided he had put it off for too long.
He’d started the mountain with Harry’s retest, as the anticipation was killing him. He’d done so well, turned around from his last test, and Grace was feeling satisfied that the kid really had only had an off day.
Grace continued marking, reaching a flow state of cold tea, Queen and red ticks and crosses. He scoured homework essays for AI, put a question mark next to an answer that read “The nucleus is the….” with no ending, and a smiley face next to a doodle of a plant pot that had a face. He’d never been against kids drawing in their books, as long as they were listening in class, the drawings added a bit of joy to his predominantly boring afternoon. He finished up on the eighth graders' work and gathered the papers together, tapping them on his desk and placing them face down. He did a double take. There was a block of writing on the back of the test at the new top of the pile. Harry’s test.
Dr Grace
Thanks for letting me retake the test, it’s been a rough few weeks at home and I’ve been really out of it and unable to focus. I’m staying with my brother at the moment so I should be okay, but I’m sorry about the other test, it won’t happen again.
Thanks
Harry
It was scrawled on the back in his half-cursive hand writing, slanting off to the corner of the page. Grace stared at it, trying to figure out what to do with this information. Granted, it wasn’t a lot, but it was enough for him to spiral slightly. He knew that Harry’s parents were divorced, they showed up separately in sixth grade parent’s evenings, and his dad didn’t show up to any in seventh, so he had assumed he’d left the picture. Harry took the bus home so Grace hadn’t seen his parents outside of these evenings, except for a school play that they had yelled at each other before and after. Grace’s mind went to all sorts of places, painting a picture that gave him a weird deja vu. It was late so he cooked himself some quick pasta and tried to watch some TV. He flicked aimlessly through streaming sites, his mind going 100 miles a minute, dragging up fragments of memories he’d worked very hard to bury. Flashes of hiding in toilets and the sound of screaming and showing up to school in the same clothes as the day before because he didn’t know where he was sleeping that night. When he became a teacher he vowed to never let that go unseen, and he admired Harry for being able to write a note, something he never would have been brave enough to do. He swallowed that thought down and put on The Office, letting the comfort of a heavily rewatched sitcom wash over him.
Sunday was no better so he ended up at school on Monday morning full of nervous energy. He’d worked away through the night, taking double the time to mark scrawled essays than normal as half his mind was constantly focused on a game plan to make sure Harry was okay without prying or getting too involved. He hardly slept and arrived slightly late after forgetting his entire laptop on the kitchen table.
Rocky spotted him going into his classroom and followed him in with a coffee, unceremoniously placing it on the desk in front of him.
“You look exhausted. I knew there was a reason I didn’t hear from you all weekend.”
Ryland exhaled with half a laugh, “Not a fun reason.”
Rocky’s eyebrow arched.
“I’m worried about Harry.”
“Ah, is he okay? Did he say something?”
Ryland scrubbed his hand over his face, “More or less, he’s been struggling a bit and left me a note on the back of a test. I don’t know what to say to him.”
After rifling through his bag he produced Harry’s test. Rocky read the note then looked over his glasses to find Grace chewing a hangnail anxiously.
“Hitting close to home?” He said bluntly. Grace was taken aback. Rocky was usually pretty blunt but he didn’t think that he could piece all of it together from that one note. Before he could respond, the bell went and his tutor group came pouring in.
“Saved by the bell?” Rocky said under his breath, aware of how uncomfortable Grace was.
“I guess so.”
He had eighth grade after lunch, and it couldn’t come soon enough. Throughout the class his eyes kept slipping to the boy sitting in the second row, chewing on his pencil and never really looking like he was fully paying attention. When the bell finally went he held him back.
“94%?” He lit up, “Thanks Dr. G.”
Grace smiled at him, “I also read the back.”
The boy breathed in sharply.
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
“No. Thank you Dr. Grace, but I’m alright now, I’m staying with my brother and I’m doing a lot better.”
“Okay good.” He paused, “How old is your brother?”
“He’s 20. He works at Target. He doesn’t make a lot but it’s enough for me to stay there. Plus it's better than the alternative…” he trailed off.
Grace nodded solemnly, “Are you talking to anyone?”
The boy shifted nervously, “Nah, I don’t really think I need to, I really am fine.”
“Okay. If you do ever think you might need it, let me know. Or your tutor. There is counseling provided by the school if you need it.”
“Thanks Dr. G,” he paused, “That would be good.”
Grace subtly breathed a sigh of relief, “I’ll sort it. Well done Harry, you’re doing really well.”
He beamed at that and waved as he ran out to join his friends.
At the end of the day, Grace found himself once again standing with Evie by the school gates. Most kids were able to leave and take the bus alone or walk by themselves, but due to Evie’s past she had to have a member of staff ensuring that she wasn’t left alone outside of the school.
Ryland didn’t know too much about her past, roughly being aware that she was rescued from a cult when she was young, and there was a possibility that someone from that cult could be tracking her or her family down. The premise alone made Ryland feel sick, so he was more than happy to be the one to wait with her. He also felt that a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders and was feeling a lot happier- Harry seemed okay and willing to accept help, that was what he’d wanted.
“Are you feeling better Evie? We missed you last week.”
The girl looked up from the drawing she was doing in the back of an exercise book- Grace chose to ignore this.
“Yeah. I had quite a bad cold but it’s gone now.”
“Good! Do you know who’s picking you up today?”
She didn’t look back up, seeming mostly uninterested in the teacher’s line of questioning.
“Probably Uncle Si, but he had problems at work last week so maybe Ava.”
Grace nodded and they went back to semi awkward silence.
“Sorry I’m late.”
Grace turned to see where the voice was coming from. Simon was striding towards them, not running but looking quite stressed.
“Hey Si!” Evie slammed her book and lunged at him, nearly knocking him off his feet.
“Hey kid!” He looked up and nodded at Grace, “Dr. Grace.”
“Simon.” He nodded in return, suddenly realising how unprofessional that was, “Uh Mr Fisher! How are you?” His face went red.
Simon raised an eyebrow, seeming to enjoy watching the teacher struggle. “Simon is fine. And I am fine, thank you.”
“Good! Good. Evie was saying you were having problems at work?” What was he doing? He could have so easily left it at that and let the clearly stressed man leave.
Simon and Evie shared a look. She shrugged.
“Work is fine. My assistant manager is getting her tonsils removed so it’s a bit hectic at the moment. Finding cover and people to pick up Evie, but I’ve got it covered.”
“Wow yeah, that’s stressful! I got my tonsils out a few years ago, it was rough! I had to spend ages at home, I can’t really remember who they got to cover me, but I guess cover teaching is different-” He cut himself off, seeing the other man’s face. He had a very specific resting face, Grace had noticed, but every time he’d found himself rambling Simon’s eyebrows had gone up slightly and his lips moved into a tiny half smile. It was a mixture of amusement and curiosity, veiled as judgement.
“No, keep going.” He said. Anyone else would have assumed he was being sarcastic, but Grace didn’t hear that.
He stumbled over the words, “I just mean... Finding bar cover is different from cover teaching, because we have an agency.” He could feel the tips of his ears burning.
“I need an agency, I’m sure they have one for bar staff.” Simon seemed sincere, but Grace wasn’t really sure.
“I’m sure they do.”
They stared at each other.
“Can we go?” Grace turned to see Evie looking between the two men, boredom on her face.
Simon snapped out of Grace’s gaze. “Yeah kid, let's go.”