The following morning greeted Henry with the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. Despite the fact that he was still lodged within the confines of enemy territory, he found himself surprisingly well-rested, a testament to the exhaustion that had gripped him the night before.
As he roused from his slumber, he realized he was adorned in a comfortable blue-striped pajama—a borrowed ensemble courtesy of Sarah. The previous night’s muddy clothes were being attended to, a task she had graciously undertaken. Sarah had insisted that he sleep in her room, ensuring a more comfortable reprieve than the makeshift accommodations of the living room. She, in turn, opted to share a bed with her daughter, Daisy, while Henry sought refuge in the borrowed peace of her home.
Peering out of the window, Henry observed a stark contrast to the storm-ridden night. The sky, while still adorned with persistent rain, seemed to have relinquished its ferocity. He pondered on the time of morning, the clock’s ticking hands concealed by the dreary weather outside.
Venturing into the dining area, Henry discovered Sarah engrossed in the morning preparations. Sandwiches, neatly arranged and tucked into a lunchbox, bore witness to her culinary skills. Her greeting, punctuated with a warm smile, broke through the quietude of the room.
“Good morning!” Sarah greeted, her cheerful demeanor reflecting genuine hospitality. “You’re an early riser, aren’t you? You should’ve slept more!”
“I’m good,” Henry replied, taking a seat at the table as the tantalizing scent of brewing coffee enveloped the room.
“Are you hungry? Breakfast is almost ready,” Sarah said, her hands moving deftly between tasks. She then directed her gaze toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms, “Daisy! Wake up! Breakfast is ready!”
Henry indulged in a sip of the well-brewed coffee, appreciating the blend that Sarah had skillfully concocted. The realization struck him: this woman possessed an uncanny ability to orchestrate harmony in the mundane tasks of daily life, even in the face of the extraordinary circumstances that now defined their shared existence.
Sarah, amidst the morning bustle, appeared somewhat flustered as she hurriedly packed her sewing tools into a worn leather bag. It became evident that these tools were an essential part of her life, a necessary companion to her role as a seamstress—an occupation she had briefly mentioned the night before.
“Work today?” Henry inquired casually, his gaze following Sarah’s brisk movements.
“Yeah,” Sarah responded with a resigned smile. “Can’t afford to miss even a single day. My coworkers can be a handful.”
Henry nodded in understanding, taking note of the dedication that characterized Sarah’s daily routine. She proceeded to sample the breakfast she had prepared, taking a reassuring bite of each dish before nodding toward Henry, signaling that they were safe for consumption. While Henry had already decided to trust her to a certain extent after the events of the previous night, Sarah’s actions continued to reaffirm that trust.
Curiosity prompted Henry to delve into the details of Sarah’s daily life. “Is your workplace far from here?” he inquired.
Sarah nodded, her auburn hair cascading gently as she did so. “It’s in the center of town. Usually, I take the train, but sometimes a cab is more convenient, though a bit pricey for me.”
As Sarah unfolded a map of Maplewood last night, Henry learned more about the small town nestled near the border. Aware that the Colsarian army occasionally visited, Sarah emphasized the need for caution. With their newfound cover, Henry hoped they would navigate these potential challenges successfully.
Then, Sarah’s unexpected request hung in the air, momentarily catching Henry off guard. “Can I entrust Daisy to you today?”
The gravity of the responsibility struck Henry. He had never cared for a child before, the nature of his military duties rarely bringing him into contact with the younger generation. As he contemplated the uncharted territory ahead, Henry nodded with a sense of determination. “Sure, I can look after her.”
However, Henry found himself grappling with a mix of emotions. Handling a child seemed like an uncomplicated task, a far cry from the complexities of his military duties. Yet, this child was Colsarian—a fact that his ingrained biases deemed monstrous.
“But I’m telling you, I have no experience in handling children,” Henry asserted, attempting to manage his apprehension.
Sarah, undeterred, responded with a comforting smile. “Don’t worry. Daisy might be a little talkative, more than to your liking perhaps, but she’s a good kid.” It was evident that Sarah took immense pride and joy in speaking about her daughter. “Usually, she spends the entire day at a daycare nearby, but it was clearly suspended due to the weather and the current state of the roads in the area.”
“I see,” Henry replied, his tone measured, as he took a bite of the sandwich Sarah had prepared.
“You can reheat some of this food for lunch, and I’ll be home before dinner,” Sarah informed him, and Henry nodded in acknowledgment, signaling his understanding.
Suddenly, the tranquility of the dining table was shattered by the abrupt opening of a door. Sarah’s daughter, Daisy, had finally emerged from her deep morning slumber.
“Good morning, Mama…” Daisy mumbled, still partially ensconced in the fog of sleep.
“Good morning, flower,” Sarah greeted tenderly. “Come sit and eat your breakfast.”
Daisy’s eyes, previously clouded by sleepiness, lit up with excitement when they landed on Henry. Enthusiasm seized her, prompting her to grab his legs and hug them tightly. “Good morning, Papa!” she greeted him with infectious energy.
However, Henry couldn’t suppress a jolt of pain as Daisy’s embrace inadvertently brushed against the gunshot wound on his leg. “Agh!”
“Daisy!” Sarah exclaimed, swiftly standing up from her seat to gently separate her daughter from Henry’s leg. “Don’t hug him so carelessly, okay?” she chided the little girl, who looked genuinely alarmed.
“Why, Mama? Did Daisy hurt Papa? Is Papa not okay?” Daisy worriedly inquired, her concern evident. Sarah attempted to calm her down, gently patting her head.
“No, you didn’t hurt Papa, sweetie. He’s still recovering, but he’s fine now,” Sarah assured her daughter, turning to Henry for confirmation. “Right?”
“Y-yes. You didn’t hurt me, Daisy,” Henry replied awkwardly, which was enough to bring a smile back to Daisy’s face.
“Say sorry to him,” Sarah instructed her daughter, who promptly obeyed.
“Sorry, Papa. Daisy was just excited to finally see you…” she apologized.
“It’s alright,” Henry simply replied.
Daisy joined the two of them at the table. Henry observed the interaction between mother and daughter. Seated next to her mother, Daisy exhibited the characteristic messiness of a child at mealtime, prompting Sarah to diligently wipe her face clean. Henry averted his gaze, unwilling to let the scene unlock memories he had carefully concealed in the recesses of his mind.
Nevertheless, Henry couldn’t help but notice the absence of any familial resemblance between the mother and daughter. Sarah’s auburn hair and light almond eyes, reminiscent of a bright sunset orange, contrasted sharply with Daisy’s deep brown hair and green eyes. Did the child perhaps take after her father?
Breakfast unfolded swiftly, punctuated by casual conversation between Sarah and Daisy discussing the flowers they had discovered during their woodland playtime the previous day. Henry observed in silence. As Daisy animatedly recounted her adventures, Sarah listened with an amused smile, hanging on to every word.
Despite the foreignness of everything around him, an unexpected sense of ease enveloped Henry. The domesticity of the setting allowed him a rare moment of relaxation that may be considered a luxury for a soldier like him.