A Helping Hand

Author: Janet (SkyGirl5)

Genre: S/V, AU

Summary: A car accident that could have taken a tragic turn but thankfully did not introduces Sydney Bristow to Michael Vaughn and his daughter, Grace. Little does Sydney know at that point that the Vaughn family is the most unusual one she will ever meet. At first, she is sympathetic due to the accident her drive caused, but then, when she learns of their tragic situation, she feels compelled to help in any way she can. The only problem is, Michael just might be too stubborn for his own good. [38]

Disclaimer: Sydney, Vaughn, etc are properties of JJ Abrams and ABC.

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Chapters 1-10 // Chapters 11 - 20 // Chapters 21-30 // Chapters 31-38 + Epilogue

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Chapter 1

“Daddy, can we go see the puppies today?” seven-year-old Grace asked her father. She was looking up at him with her big beautiful green eyes, the ones her father hated saying no to. Father and daughter were walking hand-in-hand down the busy sidewalks of New York City very shortly after Grace’s father picked her up from school. For the previous few days, it had become a pattern for them to swing by a pet store they passed frequently on their familiar walking path. There, they would look at and occasionally pet the critters for sale. Of course, this was rather cruel to Grace since she desperately wanted a puppy, but due to their living situation it was impossible for them to have one or any pet for that matter.

“I’m sorry sweetie,” Michael Vaughn apologized to his daughter, squeezing her hand gently. “We need to stop at the grocery store and find something for dinner…maybe we’ll stop and see the puppies tomorrow, but if not I promise we’ll go this weekend.”

“Okay,” Grace agreed with a soft sigh. Noting she was slightly disappointed, Michael promised his little angel that she could decide what they would be having for dinner when they arrived at the grocery store. This made her feel slightly better since at least she was getting her way with something.

With Grace’s mother long gone, father and daughter were all each other had. As much as Michael wanted to spoil his little girl all that he could, he knew better than to do that. Though, he tried to give her what she wanted (as long as it was something within reason, like wanting to go and see puppies) as much as he could. Since he worked full time to support their family, he always felt guilty that he was unable to spend as much time with Grace as he wished. His unpredictable schedule often times had him working Saturday mornings, a time usually reserved for father-daughter bonding, so they had to hang out as much as they could when they were both free from work and school. Then again, Grace usually spent Saturday mornings sleeping in or watching television anyway, so it was not the biggest loss in the world.

“Oh Dad guess what happened today!” Grace exclaimed excitedly with a little jump.

“What sweetie?” Michael asked as he adjusted the large duffle bag over his shoulder. Grace then went on to inform her father that she had been given the special job of being the first grade class’s official chalk board washer for that week. While to an adult this would have been an unpleasant task, Grace was practically over the moon about it, which, naturally, Michael found adorable, as would any father.

The father-daughter duo was so engrossed in their conversation that they failed to notice the large black Lincoln town car approaching them from the opposite direction. The wayward vehicle was swerving back and forth across the surprisingly empty streets, narrowly missing cars parked along the edges. Horrifically, the car crossed over the sidewalk just at the place where the Vaughn family was walking. It was then that Michael saw it and he had only a fraction of a second to react. Hardly thinking at all, he picked up Grace around the waist and threw her behind him, out of the way of the oncoming vehicle. Thankfully, the car stopped just as it tapped him in the shins, but had Grace been walking in the position she had just been in…well, he didn’t want to think about that.

“Jesus what the hell is the matter with you!” he immediately cursed the vehicle’s driver. “You could have killed my daughter!” Then, at the thought of Grace, he quickly spun around to see her lying shocked on the sidewalk. He crouched down beside her to see that her left knee was scraped and bleeding as well as her left elbow. “Baby I’m so sorry; I just didn’t want you to get hit by that car,” he said softly as he pulled her into his arms. He rocked her gently and pressed two kisses onto her head.

“I’m okay Dad,” Grace said bravely, though she was fighting back tears. Michael kissed her head once more before pulling a crumpled but clean tissue from his pocket and handing it to her. Then, he pulled her to her feet before turning around, ready to shout at the irresponsible driver who was getting out of the car that had nearly killed him. Much to his surprise, instead of seeing someone stumble out of the driver’s seat, he saw a woman, a very attractive and well dressed woman at that, climb out of the back seat of the vehicle.

“Sir, are you alright sir? I am so, so, so sorry! My driver… I don’t know what happened but are you alright?!” she asked rather frantically as she approached him.

“No I’m not alright!” Michael snapped. “You could have killed my daughter!”

Glancing down at the little girl half hiding behind her father, the woman began apologizing once more. “I am so, so sorry, sir. Is she alright? Please, what can I do?”

“Well you can start by telling your driver to be more careful next time,” Michael said rather harshly before turning his eyes towards the ground and saying, “C’mon Grace let’s go.” He grabbed her hand and went to walk away but she protested.

“Daddy stop it hurts!” she whined, pointing to her bloody knee.

“Oh she’s hurt,” the woman practically squeaked. “Do…should I take you to the hospital or someplace to clean up?!”

“Forgive me if I don’t feel comfortable getting into your car at the moment,” Michael said rather bitterly before scooping Grace up in one arm and continuing to walk down the sidewalk.

“No, please sir, wait,” the woman said, trying to catch up with him but tripping over the garbage cans her car had knocked over. “Please I just feel awful. Come to my house and clean out her cuts – I have band-aids and antiseptic and I live so close!”

“We’re on our way home,” Michael informed her simply.

“Do you live close by?” she questioned. Michael refused to answer and turned his eyes towards the sidewalk. “Please, I just live down there, the green front door,” she said, pointing down the street from which her vehicle came. Along the street was a series of very nice, very expensive townhouses all constructed with very fancy brick and stone work. The third house from them had a green front door. After seeing a hesitant look on his face the woman added another plea, “Please?”

“Alright,” Michael conceded with a sigh, knowing it would be quite a ways before they had another chance to stop and clean up Grace’s knee and elbow. The woman actually looked relieved and she ushered the way across the street to her dwelling.

“I’m Sydney, by the way, Sydney Bristow,” she said over her shoulder.

“Michael,” he said, “and this is Grace.”

“Nice to meet you both; I’m sorry it’s under such circumstances,” she said, still sounding apologetic. They were silence for the rest of their brief walk before Sydney let them into the front door of her admirable home.

“This is quite a place you’ve got here. Do you live here with your husband?” Michael asked as he and Grace looked around the expansive foyer with marble floors and beautiful chandeliers, their jaws slightly agape.

“Oh no I’m not married,” she assured him quickly. “This house belonged to my parents, but they moved down to Florida last year. Anyway, the bathroom is right through there; there’s a first aid kit in the top drawer,” she told him.

“Thank you,” Michael nodded to her. Then, he set Grace down on the ground and took her hand as they walked towards the bathroom. All they had to do was wash out her cuts, slap on a Band-Aid and then get out of there as quickly as possible; a Park Avenue mansion was certainly not a suitable place for the two of them.



Chapter 2

Once inside the bathroom, Michael intended on putting Grace up on the counter so he would have better access to clean her scrapes. Looking around the small space, though, he found no such thing. Apparently, bathrooms of the fancy variety had free standing sinks with no counter space. Instead of having drawers beneath the nonexistent counter, a narrow chest presumably held towels, toilet paper and other such items off to the left of the sink. This item, however, was far from stable enough to support Grace’s weight, so Michael instructed his daughter to sit on the toilet (seat down).

Upon opening up the top drawer of the narrow chest, he found the first aid kit Sydney had directed him to. He washed out Grace’s cuts before applying some antiseptic to them; he did not even wish to comprehend what vile germs lived on the sidewalks of New York, where she had unfortunately received her scrapes. “That pinches Daddy,” Grace whined.

“Sorry honey; it’ll feel better in a minute,” he told her. Then, after placing a Band-Aid on each injured area, he cleaned up the bathroom quickly, returning it to the pristine state it had been in when they entered it. Once this was done, he picked up his bag and Grace’s backpack and led the way out of the bathroom to the hall, where Sydney was pacing around her foyer. She stopped when she saw them though, and gave them both a curious look.

“Thank you very much Miss Bristow,” Michael said politely, taking Grace’s hand in his. “We’ll be going now.”

“Oh no wait!” she said as she practically lunged in front of their walking path. Michael looked slightly taken aback and he snaked a protecting arm around his daughter. “No, no I mean I feel so bad still for scaring you half to death….please, please stay for dinner it’s the least I can do!”

“What are ya having?!” Grace asked, sounding rather interested.

“Grace!” Michael said warningly. Then he looked up to Sydney who was smiling softly as his little girl. “That won’t be necessary at all, Miss Bristow.”

“Please, I insist. I mean, if you need to get home to your wife I understand, but-”

“We don’t have anybody to go home to!” Grace cut her off. Then, she looked up at her father and tugged on his hand. “Please Daddy?! Come on I don’t wanna eat soup again!”

Slightly embarrassed, Michael knelt down on the floor beside his daughter as a pink color filled his cheeks. “Grace, we don’t need to intrude on this nice lady’s dinner. Come on let’s go.”

“But she invited us!” Grace exclaimed. “Please Daddy!” Michael gave her a stern look, but she merely protruded her bottom lip and made a pouting face at him, one she knew he could hardly resist. Grumbling inwardly, Michael glanced up to Sydney and saw that she was wearing a similar pleading expression. Realizing he was fighting a losing battle, he very begrudgingly agreed to stay.

“Wonderful! I’ll go make sure there are three settings at the table,” Sydney beamed as she quickly walked back through her house. Grace was just about to scamper after her but Michael caught her by her arms and held her firmly so he could convey his warning.

“Grace I want you to be on your absolute best behavior, alright? Elbows off the table, say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and don’t ask any rude questions,” he listed his daughters most common offenses. “And when we leave we’ll be having a discussion about the polite ways to turn down someone’s invitation.”

“Why would you do that?!” she asked in confusion. Michael shook his head and told her they would talk about it later before walking back through Sydney’s very elegant home.

“This is like a museum!” Grace said in a hushed voice as she examined all the fancy vases used for decoration and paintings adorning the walls. Michael nodded in agreement; it was the most decadent home he had been in. Then again, he had not been in many dwellings that were even half as fancy as Sydney’s.

Michael and Grace found Sydney in the kitchen along with a Hispanic woman wearing a grey maid’s outfit. The fact that Sydney employed help did not surprise Michael in the least since the car that nearly hit them was obviously part of a private limousine service. Standing there in her kitchen with granite floors and countertops, he wondered what profession allowed her to live so well. Surely it was not any job he had access to.

“Please sit,” Sydney said, gesturing towards the table. Grace rushed over, shed her backpack and plopped herself down in one of the high back wooden chairs sitting around the large oval table. Michael took a slightly more demure approach, walking very casually and sitting down carefully, pulling his napkin into his lap as he did so.

“So, Grace, what grade are you in?” Sydney smiled at the little girl who was examining all the sparkling silverware surrounding the china plate in front of her.

“First,” Grace said happily. “My teacher’s name is Ms. Henry, but I don’t like her.”

“Why not?” Sydney asked with a slight laugh.

Grace scrunched up her nose. “’cause she’s old and she smells like old people.”

“Grace!” Michael said sharply.

“Well she does,” Grace said with a shrug as Sydney stifled a laugh.

Their conversation was briefly interrupted by the woman working in Sydney’s house, who she identified as Consuela, began carrying heaping bowls filled with mashed potatoes, chicken and carrots over to the table. Grace was practically salivating as her father gave her spoonfuls of each of the food items. She dug in immediately, proclaiming how wonderful everything was.

“Slow down,” Michael cautioned her quietly.

Upon hearing Michael speak, Sydney glanced over to see Grace shoveling food in her mouth as though she had never eaten before. This concerned her slightly, but she could not stay anything about it considering she had just met the couple beside her in a most unfortunate way. “So Grace, do you like first grade better than kindergarten so far?” she asked, deciding on a lighter form of conversation

“I guess so,” Grace said after swallowing a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “It’s harder…but okay I guess.”

“Good,” Sydney smiled softly at her. Then, she turned to Michael, “so what is it that you do?”

“Oh nothing,” Michael said quickly. “I mean, I have a job, I’ve had a few different jobs, but nothing important and probably not as interesting as what you do,” he said, purposely changing the subject away from himself.

“You mean running my father’s empire? Not summuch,” Sydney laughed softly.

“Empire?” Grace repeated. “Is he a king?”

Sydney smiled at her. “No, I meant that figuratively. He just owns a lot of the buildings downtown.”

Michael smiled inwardly, realizing the exact reason for her wealthy status. Once he saw that Grace was mostly finished with her meal, he encouraged their great escape from Sydney’s home. He had hardly touched the minimal amount of food on his plate mostly due to the fact that he was too preoccupied with making sure that Grace did not make Sydney regret her very generous invitation into her home. “C’mon Grace,” Michael said subtly, “We need to get going.”

“Do we hafta?” Grace pouted.

“Yes we hafta,” he said, mocking her tone. Then he turned to Sydney and thanked her once more. “This really was too much, but thank you anyway.”

“Oh, no, please it was the least I can do,” she said, waving her hand casually. Then, she walked the two of them to the door to say goodbye once more. She wanted to do more for them instead of sending them back out into the dark, but she sensed Michael’s extreme hesitation regarding anything she did or offered them. Keeping this in mind, all she offered them as they left was a smile.

“Thanks!” Grace called back to her as she descended the front stairs of Sydney’s house. Sydney smiled and waved back to her. Instead of going inside, she hovered in the doorway, watching them until they disappeared. As she was waiting there, she heard Grace ask, “Where are we sleeping tonight Daddy?”

“I don’t know yet honey,” Michael responded. Finding this a very peculiar statement, Sydney’s brow wrinkled as she shut the door slowly. Standing there in her foyer, she could not help but wonder the real truth behind the man and girl she had just shared her dinner with. The sad part was, she would probably never find out.



Chapter 3

Becoming homeless was never something Michael Vaughn thought would happen to him. Then again, who includes living out on the cold, dangerous streets as part of their life plan? Losing his apartment was just something else in a long line of unfortunate circumstances that had befallen him and his daughter over the previous year.

As a young man, Michael would always look upon the homeless with distain. They were lazy drunks and (or) drug addicts in his view. They either did not want jobs or could not hold them down due to aforementioned addictions. They were filthy and unkempt and worthless to society. He felt this way up until he became one of them, of course, when he found himself standing outside his apartment, daughter in arms, staring at an eviction notice. It was then he realized that a person could be homeless and still have a job. True, this was not common, for a portion of the homeless were as Michael stereotyped them to be, but it was possible.

Michael, like many of the other street-dwellers, had no family to lean on. All of Grace’s grandparents were gone and he had no siblings. While he had many friends and coworkers from prior jobs who cared a great deal about him and wished they could help, their own less than perfect circumstances prevented them from doing so. They had small apartments with hardly enough room for their own families and no money to spare with every penny being pinched to its fullest extent. Michael and Grace were able to store some of their belongings (spare and unseasonable clothes as well as some mementoes) at various friends’ apartments, but they were still stuck sleeping in church shelters, showering at the YMCA, and using the bathroom at the public library.

Michael hated the situation they were in; he loathed himself for not being able to provide proper accommodations for his little girl to live in. Unfortunately, with a fixed and only adequate income, and fixed expenses, it was virtually impossible to get ahead. Amazingly, though, Grace did not seem to mind all that much.

Grace saw their homelessness as an adventure; each night a new place to eat, sleep and dream. She let her imagination run wild, turning a dismal shelter basement into a dozen room mansion with crisp white walls and a lush carpet to lay on. She never seemed particularly down about anything, for which Michael was very grateful. Still, he needed to provide for her and knew that someday he would no matter how much he had to work himself to the bone to get it - he would.

“That lady was really nice,” Grace said as she and her father were settling into the Holy Methodist Church shelter that evening after leaving Sydney’s.

“Yes she was,” Michael smiled at her before crouching down to remove her shoes and socks. “She was very generous too. How are your cuts, hmm?”

“Okay,” Grace said with a casual shrug. Michael nodded, and turned to her other shoe to untie it. Usually after the initial shock of being injured wore off, Grace was a trooper. After all, this was far from the first time she had been injured in her short seven year life and, comparatively, a few scrapes and a cut were very minimal injuries.

“C’mon sweetie,” Michael encouraged his daughter to get up when he saw the single bathroom in the church basement was free. Luckily, that particular bathroom was equipped with a shower, though it was very small. In their time without a home, Michael and Grace had perfected the art of ‘showering’ without the shower. All they needed was a sink, a towel, and soap (the latter two Michael carried around at all times in the backpack he had) and Grace never had to go to school without bathing at least adequately. The rare occasions that they actually had a real shower, though, were very welcome.

After showering quickly and efficiently, Grace stood at the sink and brushed her teeth while her father combed out her hair. Then, she had to wait in the bathroom while he showered, which usually took only a few minutes. Michael refused to let Grace out of his sight ever when they were spending the night in shelters. The risk was just too high when they were surrounded by strange people he did not know. If anything happened to Grace…well, Michael was sure he would not survive, especially if he could have prevented it.

Once they exited the bathroom, Grace and Michael were met by grumbles and rants from the people waiting for their turn, complaining about how much time they spent in the one and only facility there. Really, they had only spent the appropriate amount of time, but since there was two of them and they took their times back to back it seemed longer. Both Michael and Grace ignored the sneers coming their way though; they were used to them.

Father and daughter made their way to their cot at the edge of the room. Grace crawled in first and tucked her body up against the wall before her father slid in beside her so that he was between her and the outside of the room. He slept in this position so that he could keep Grace safe from anyone with ill intentions.

When they were first forced to sleep in shelters, Michael would force himself to stay up half the night, making sure Grace could sleep soundly and that no one would kidnap her. Of course, this left him utterly exhausted and practically unable to work, which in their already dire situation was near fatal. He soon had to give in and let sleep win, but only did so knowing he was a very light sleeper and, with his arms around his little girl, no one would touch her without causing him to wake.

Once Grace was settled, Michael placed a kiss on the back of her still wet head and they said their quiet goodnights. Then, they fell quickly in to dreamland, for, when morning came, they needed to wake early so they would have enough time to get up, dressed, and then get Grace to school on time while Michael went to work. The same routine every day; they did what they needed to do to survive.



Chapter 4

For weeks after the event, Sydney Bristow found her attention still captivated by the strange man and his daughter whom she had dined with. She thought about them each crisp October morning that she jogged past the fateful spot where her car nearly ran them down. As she stared out her fiftieth floor office window, she found her mind drifting to the sparkling green eyes of Grace. Mostly, though, they crossed her mind when she was going to bed at night.

As she pulled back the covers of her bed, Sydney wondered where Grace was sleeping that night. She had asked her father where they would be sleeping when she left Sydney’s house; did that mean she did not have a stable place to sleep? Or was it simply a game she and her father played? One night they would ‘camp out’ on the living room floor and then next they would have a safari under blankets in the bedroom. In the collective half hour she spent in the presence of Michael and his daughter, she could hardly get a feel for whether he was the type of father who would do such a thing. She knew he was a caring father; that was obvious. Still she was concerned that they did not have a stable environment. And, with that concern, came the wonderment as to why.

Sydney’s caring nature came through as her concern for the family she did not even know grew. Unfortunately, the one thing that made her feel positively awful was that, save another horrific accident, she would never see Michael or Grace again. She had no way of contacting them - she didn’t even know their last name - and it was painfully obvious from Michael’s polite yet short attitude that he would not be seeking her out. She thought she would never see them again, which was why she was utterly floored when she spotted Michael in a most unexpected location.

Sydney knew buildings better than anything else in New York City. More specifically, she knew her father’s buildings better than anything. Ever since she could remember, her father, Jack Bristow, real estate mogul, was buying and selling buildings. The company that he started years earlier and she managed at present owned several high-rise office buildings in the city. Only office buildings with commercial space were in their portfolio; never places where people lived. According to her father that was too much of a liability.

For the most part, Sydney spent her time on the fiftieth floor of an office building owned by her father close by her house. That building held the central managing office for Bristow, Inc., her family’s company. On different occasions, though, usually a few times a month, she needed to attend meetings at other buildings owned by the company.

The third Monday in October brought one of those meetings. She had been suffering through a very boring meeting when she excused herself to the ladies room, mostly due to the need for movement to keep herself conscious. When she arrived at the closest restroom, she found a janitor’s cart sitting outside the door. Realizing the bathroom was being cleaned, she was just about to walk around to the one on the other side of the floor, when the janitor stepped out of the women’s bathroom. To her utter shock, she knew this janitor; it was Michael.

The two of them locked eyes for only a moment before Michael shot his eyes to the floor, obviously embarrassed. Sydney had no feelings regarding his profession, though; she was merely relieved to see him again. “M-Michael, h-hi,” she stammered for a moment, her shock prohibiting her from speaking properly. “Do you remember me? Sydney Bristow from-”

“It’s nice to see you again Ms. Bristow. Have a nice day,” he said curtly before trying to walk around the other side of the janitor’s cart in a weak attempt at escape. Sydney stopped him, though.

“Wait,” she placed her hand gently upon his. “How’s…how’s Grace?”

“She’s fine,” he breathed before pushing the cart towards the opposite end of the hallway from where they were standing.

Sydney’s stubborn streak plainly showing through, she hurried after him with a look of determination on her face. The clicking of her heels against the tile floor was rivaled by that of the keys on Michael’s belt jingling, both of them power walking, he trying to escape her. “Michael wait, I – wait, please,” Sydney said almost breathlessly. Very begrudgingly, Michael stopped walking and turned to face her. “So, so you work here? I mean… I didn’t know you worked in one of my father’s buildings…”

“I haven’t worked here long,” he said shortly, wanting to avoid the subject of his job as much as possible.

“Oh…okay, well I’m not usually here – in this building - so that’s why I haven’t seen you around,” she told him with a soft smile. He looked uninterested and turned to walk away once more. “Wait… I mean, how are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Michael said exasperatedly. Then, he turned around with a rather stern look. “I’m sorry Ms. Bristow, but I really, really need to get back to work. Have a nice day.”

“Oh…yeah,” Sydney sighed in a rather dejected tone. “Have a nice day, Michael…see you around,” she sighed. Michael gave her a courteous nod before disappearing into a nearby janitor’s closet.

Slightly disappointed, Sydney shuffled her way back to the ladies room. She had no idea what she expected to come from seeing Michael once more, but, foolishly, she wished for more than just a polite greeting and nothing more. It was very obvious, though, that Michael wanted nothing to do with her, but she had no idea why. True, he probably saw her as a nosy, annoyingly helpful snob with a house on Park Avenue, but that could not have been further from the truth. Admittedly, she was annoyingly helpful, but her intensions were pure. Something about Michael and his beautiful daughter captivated her and, no matter how much she tried, she could not get them out of her mind.



Chapter 5

Immediately after realizing that Michael, in a roundabout sort of way, worked for her, Sydney had to fight the urge to look up his employment portfolio. Of course, she could not do this since it would be a vast invasion of his privacy which she was only doing to quell her own obsessive need to find out more about him. Despite this, she wanted to more than ever. Finding out that Michael was employed as a janitor did calm some of her concerns though. At least he had a very well paying job that gave benefits to him and his daughter. Even with this comforting knowledge, though, she could not get them out of her mind.

For the next few weeks, every day in her office when she saw a janitor, she thought of Michael. She constantly thought about going to the building where he worked, waiting until the end of his shift and trying to talk to him. Part of her suspected he might have been embarrassed by his profession, especially when she was standing there in a thousand dollar business suit with five hundred dollars shoes trying to make conversation with him in his stained coveralls. She did not care though; no matter what his profession he would still be the sandy haired man with mysterious eyes she wanted to get lost in. That was, of course, a selfish wish; on a more genuine level she wanted to find out about him and Grace, what they did in their spare time, and whether Grace’s mother was part of their lives.

The more time that passed, it became more and more difficult for Sydney to fight the urge to go and visit Michael. Luckily, though, she was able to cross paths with him in a much less invasive and stalker-like manner.

Part of Sydney’s job as the CEO of one of the wealthiest land-holding companies in the city included attending various benefit galas to put a good face on the company. She needed to appear, hand over a check and prove that she cared about the city in which she lived. Of course she cared, but she found the whole thing very arrogant to say the least, since most of the time the people donating money did not care all that much, at least not genuinely; they were only there to get publicity for themselves or their companies.

On the way home from one such event, Sydney was sitting in the back of her fancy town car shivering due to the frigid temperature of that evening. Apparently, though it was only the middle of November, winter was already beginning to set in. In fact, gala attendees were discussing the possibility of snow flurries later that weekend.

As she rode home, Sydney glanced out the side window up ahead as the headlights bounced along. For the most part, the streets were vacant at that late hour of nearly midnight, but up ahead she spotted something that made her call out, “Stop the car!” Seated on the broken concrete steps of an abandoned townhouse was a man with a large bundle in his lap and somehow she just knew.

Her car pulled over a few feet away from this man so that its headlights shone enough for her to get out of the car and still see him. This man noticeably recoiled as Sydney stepped out of the car, shivering in her fancy gala dress. “Hi,” she said softly. He said nothing. After a moment of silence she said, “Michael,” in a very stern tone.

“What do you want?” he responded, his tone almost annoyed.

“Get in the car,” she said simply.

“No I’m not-”

“Get in the car,” she repeated without hearing what he had to say; there was absolutely no excuse for spending the night outside with a sleeping child in his arms.

“No,” he said simply.

Almost infuriated at how stubborn to the point of ridiculous he was being, Sydney walked closer and crouched down so that she was eye level with him. “It might snow tonight, did you know that?” she said. Michael looked away from her. “You can’t stay out here; get in the car Michael.”

“I’m fine,” he said firmly.

“What about Grace? Is she fine?” Sydney asked as she glanced at the face of the little girl, who was amazingly asleep in the blanket she was bundled in despite the conversation going on around her. “Get in the car Michael, if not for yourself, for Grace. Please, get in the car,” she said in an almost desperate tone. That time, when Michael’s eyes met hers, she saw sadness and remorse, but agreement. Sighing, he stood and walked towards the open door of her car. She let him step inside first before sliding in herself and instructing her driver to continue on.

They were almost painfully silent on the way to Sydney’s house, but once they arrived, Michael spoke. “You know you don’t have to-”

Sydney would hear none of his protest and instructed him in an almost scolding motherly tone, “Inside.” In a way she was scolding him. He was a father and he needed to protect his daughter. In no way was he doing that by sleeping outside on the streets of New York with her. Michael lowered his head and carried his daughter inside her house to her foyer, where he waited for further instruction since it was clear she was in charge of the situation.

“Follow me,” she said quietly, heading towards the stairway to their right. Pulling off her overcoat as she went, she led the way up the stairs, down the narrow hall and to a door with a few pink hearts across it. “This was my room when I was little; Grace will like it,” she said softly as she flicked on the light switch, revealing the pink and soft yellow interior.

Michael said nothing, but he carried his daughter over to the pink duvet covered twin bed. He set her down and began to unwrap her from her blanket cocoon. Sydney assisted by pulling off her worn sneakers and setting them down on the floor beside the bed. She waited until Grace was safely tucked beneath the bed covers before offering, “I have another spare bedroom if…”

“No,” Michael said in a strained voice, exhaustion evident, “I’ll stay here… don’t want her to wake and get scared in the middle of the night.”

“Right,” Sydney nodded in understanding. “Well, my bedroom is at the end of the hall- the double doors…if you need anything. Goodnight Michael,” she said simply before walking towards the door. Before she made it there, though, Michael called out her name.

“Thank you,” he said simply in the most sincere voice she had ever heard in her entire life. In response, she offered him a reassuring smile before leaving the room and closing the door, bound for bed herself.



Chapter 6

The next morning, Michael woke his daughter up as early as possible keeping in mind she became very cranky if awoken too early. He did not bother explaining where they were since he knew their location would make her very excited considering she had mentioned Sydney at least once a day since their first meeting. He got her dressed, made her brush her teeth, and then told her to be very quiet as they surreptitiously escaped the house. Sydney, however, had other plans.

Just as Michael and Grace were descending the second half of the stairs, they spotted her on the third step up from the bottom. She was leaning against the wall with her legs spread full out across the step wearing an ivory color robe and matching slippers. Michael was not sure if she was asleep, but her position made it obvious that she was making sure they could not sneak out without her knowledge.

As they grew closer to her, she stirred, looked up at them and smiled. “Going somewhere?” she asked innocently. Michael fought a groan under his breath; his brilliant plan had been destroyed. Ignoring the obviously protesting look on Michael’s face, Sydney turned to Grace and smiled. “Good morning Grace; its nice to see you again.”

“’morning Sydney,” Grace smiled.

“How would you like some pancakes for breakfast, hmm?” Sydney offered. Grace nodded vigorously. “Excellent, c’mere,” Sydney said, opening up her arms. Grace jumped in them and Sydney hoisted her up on her hip, surprised at how lightweight the little girl actually was. “So what do you want on your pancakes, hmm?”

“Chocolate chips!” she exclaimed.

Sydney laughed softly. “Well I’m not sure if your daddy would like that. How about some blueberries instead?”

“I’ve never had those,” Grace told her simply.

“Never!” Sydney gasped. Grace shook her head. “Well then you’ll have to try them; they’re my favorite fruit! Go into the kitchen and tell Consuela you want pancakes and blueberries for breakfast, okay?”

“Okay!” Grace shouted as she bounced down from Sydney’s arms and went tearing through the foyer towards the back of the house. Once she was gone, Sydney looked up to Michael with a very proud smile only to see an annoyed look on his face.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he told her almost sharply.

“Why? What’s wrong with pancakes and blueberries? Would you rather she have cereal instead?” Sydney asked sounding just as innocent as ever.

“We need to be going; we can’t stay for breakfast,” he said simply, pushing past her on his way down the final few stairs.

“Why not?” Sydney challenged, following him.

“Because we can’t.”

“That’s not a reason,” Sydney informed him. He gave her yet another annoyed look. “Michael come on! It’s breakfast! Grace is probably hungry and this way you won’t have to walk all the way to a shelter or a dumpster or God knows where to find food!”

“Excuse me but you don’t know a god damn thing about my life,” he snapped at her.

“You’re wrong,” she informed him, folding her arms over her chest. “I know that if it hadn’t been for me, you and Grace would have slept on the street all night last night! She wouldn’t have had a warm bed to sleep in. She wouldn’t have been safe and you wouldn’t have gotten any sleep either so excuse me for caring!”

Michael shut his eyes and lowered his head, breathing deeply and trying to rid himself of the animosity he felt towards the woman in front of him, who clearly was just being helpful, albeit annoyingly so. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I appreciate very much what you did for us last night, but we don’t need help. We’re doing just fine,” Michael told her.

“Yeah it looked like it too,” Sydney muttered under her breath. Michael was about to glare at her before he heard Grace shout from the kitchen.

“Daddy! Sydney! The pancakes are almost ready!”

“Eat breakfast; we’ll finish this discussion later,” Sydney told him simply before walking back towards the kitchen. Groaning, Michael had no choice but to follow.

In the kitchen, Sydney found Grace seated at the breakfast table staring at a bowl of blueberries practically frothing. Sydney sat down beside her, picked one up from the bowl and popped it in her mouth. “Mmm,” she grinned. “Did you try one yet?”

“Not yet,” Grace told her softly.

“Well what are you waiting for?” Sydney encouraged with a laugh. Mirroring Sydney’s behavior, Grace picked up a small rounded fruit from the bowl and put it in her mouth. “So?!”

“Pretty good,” Grace said.

“What are you crazy?! They’re very good,” Sydney told her, grabbing a handful more of the blueberries and dropping them onto her plate, letting them roll around. Grace was about to do the same before Michael cautioned her,

“Use the spoon Grace; not your hands.” Grace notably rolled her eyes but reached for the spoon like her father asked.

A few minutes later, a large fluffy stack of pancakes was delivered to the table by Consuela. Michael put two of them on Grace’s plate and then two on his own before passing the stack down the table to Sydney, who also took two. Then, she piled more blueberries on top of them before reaching for the bowl filled with a white fluffy substance beside her. “What’s that?” Grace asked.

“Powdered sugar; that’s how I eat mine,” Sydney told her. Then, she took a spoonful of sugar and dusted her entire plate with it before letting a large lump of it plop down atop the blueberries on her pancakes.

“Can I try?” Grace asked. Sydney nodded and passed her the bowl.

“These are the best pancakes I’ve ever had! I think they might be better than yours Daddy,” Grace smiled at her father.

“Great,” he laughed softly. Then he encouraged, “What do you say to Sydney?”

“Thank you!” Grace beamed at her.

“You’re very welcome,” Sydney told her. “Why don’t you sit here just a few more minutes; I need to talk with your father.” She got up from the table and gave Michael a pointed look until he stood rather reluctantly. Then, she led him across the kitchen to a doorway he hardly noticed before and ushered him inside.

“What’s this?” he asked upon entering the small space lined with bookshelves and wood paneling.

“My office,” she said simply before getting down to business, “I want you and Grace to stay.”

“Where?!”

“Here.”

“Absolutely not,” Michael told her.

“Why?” Sydney challenged. Michael looked away and said nothing. “Alright,” Sydney sighed, trying a different approach. “I don’t know much about you, but let me take a guess. You and Grace don’t have a home…you live out of that backpack you carry around, wander the city after work and after Grace is out of school…sleep in shelters at night with god knows what kid of miscreants – am I close?” she asked. Again, Michael said nothing, though he did notably turn a soft shade of pink which confirmed Sydney’s suspicions.

“What happened, Michael? Did you ever have a home?” she asked sounding genuinely concerned.

“Yes,” he said firmly.

“Then what happened?” she asked. He refused to answer. “Alright,” she sighed. “Let’s try something easier. What’s your last name?”

“Don’t have one,” he said simply. She gave him a ‘Nice try, but I don’t think so’ look. “I’m not telling you – you’re probably thinking about calling the police or child services!”

“What?!” she gasped rather horrified. “No Michael I would never I…you know what I would. I would call them if you don’t stay here with me,” she told him with a rather proud, ‘I’ve got you now’ smile.

“You wouldn’t!” he gasped in an almost questioning way.

“Okay I wouldn’t,” she conceded. “But I want you to stay, please,” she requested. He shook his head. “Oh come on Michael! It’s supposed to snow tonight! What if you have to sleep outside again?!”

“We won’t,” he said defiantly.

“How do you know that?”

“We just won’t alright!” he snapped.

Sighing heavily, Sydney rubbed her brow and began to pace. Michael’s extreme stubbornness was beginning to wear upon her. “Please,” she tried once more, “Stay the weekend. Give Grace a chance to sleep in a real bed instead of a filthy cot. Think of it as a vacation; I’ll bet she’s never had one, has she?”

Michael was silent for almost a full five minutes before agreeing quietly. “Fine, the weekend. But come Monday morning we’re gone,” he informed her. Sydney smiled and nodded; that was good enough for now.



Chapter 7

After setting up plans with Michael, Sydney emerged from her office with an ear-to-ear grin. Grace was still sitting at the kitchen table playing with the few blueberries left on her plate and Sydney approached her. “Grace, how would you and your dad like to spend the weekend here, with me?” Sydney offered with a smile.

Grace’s face lit up like Sydney had never seen before. “REALLY?! Can we?!” she asked excitedly. Glancing back at her father, she saw him give a subtle confirming nod, which made her squeal and hug Sydney tightly around the waist.

Sydney hugged her back, smiling even broader from the little girl’s happiness. “So Grace what did you want to do today? Did you have any plans?” Sydney asked.

“Daddy was going to take me to see the puppies. I love puppies,” Grace grinned.

“The puppies?” Sydney glanced up at Michael hoping for some clarification.

“Just at a pet store over on 8th,” he told her quietly.

“I see…well I’ll come with you if you want; we can look at the puppies together. There are also a bunch of games in that room where you spent the night. You may play with them if you’d like,” Sydney told her.

“Don’t they belong to the girl that lives there? Won’t she mind? Is she your daughter?” Grace asked.

Sydney laughed softly. “No, sweetie; I don’t have any children. That room was mine when I was a little girl,” she informed her.

“Yours?!” Grace asked; Sydney nodded. “That musta been forever ago!”

“Grace,” Michael warned.

Sydney merely laughed. “It’s fine…it does seem like forever ago,” Sydney told her. Then, a brilliant idea crossed her mind and she smiled broadly. “Grace have you ever played dress-up?”

“I used to put on Daddy’s shoes and walk around. It was funny!” Grace said with a laugh.

Sydney smiled at her. “Well how about you come with me into my closet and you can try on my shoes and hats and necklaces and whatever you want…if that’s okay with your father of course,” Sydney glanced up to him along with Grace.

“Please Daddy!” Grace smiled angelically at him. Of course, Michael could not deny such a look from his daughter, so he agreed and Grace flew towards the stairs almost immediately. Before she followed, Sydney informed Michael that while the two girls were playing, he could do whatever he wished. Watch television, read the books in her office slash library, or take a nap or a shower; he had free roam of the house. Once this was done, she went after Grace, who was impatiently waiting on the stairs.

“WHOA!” Grace exclaimed when Sydney led her to her expansive closet. “Is this all yours?!”

“A lot of it…some of it belonged to my mother when she lived here,” Sydney told her.

“Did she die?” Grace asked rather sadly.

Sydney shook her head. “No, she and my father moved to Florida last year, but she left her winter clothes here since there is no winter in Florida.”

“Oh,” Grace said. “My mom died…”

“When?” Sydney asked, hoping to piece together some of their puzzle by finding out information from Grace, who was clearly the more willing of the two.

Grace shrugged. “After I was born sometime… I don’t remember her at all; she died before my memory started.”

“I see,” Sydney nodded. “So what do you want to try on?” she asked, trying to push past the sad memories.

For the next twenty minutes, Grace and Sydney went through the closet, practically looking at every single item. Grace would put her tiny feet in Sydney’s large high heeled shoes and attempt to shuffle around the closet. This did not work very well and Grace ended up falling twice, but she was laughing the whole time. After the shoes, she moved on to Sydney’s jewelry, trying on sparkling necklaces and rings. Then, Sydney let her try on one of her dresses. Of course, on Sydney the blue dress only fell at her mid-thigh, but on Grace it went nearly to the floor.

Throughout every clothes change it was obvious Grace was having the time of her life. Sydney, too, was enjoying herself greatly. She loved spending time with Grace, even if they hardly knew one another. Sydney always loved children and, though she had none of her own, she baby-sat all through her teen years and loved visiting the daycare at her office to play with some of the children.

“Hey Grace, um, so…so you and your father don’t have a house, right?” Sydney stammered slightly trying to get the right wording. She wanted to find out as much as she could, but do so very subtly. She knew the possibility of Grace informing her father what they spoke about was high and she did not want Michael to become furious with her, which would most likely result of him storming out of her house and life, possibly forever.

“Nah,” she said casually.

“Did you ever?”

“Sure…a while ago. Don’t remember when…,” Grace told her. “It’s okay though; we still have fun.”

“And you…get to eat?” Sydney asked cautiously. Even from their brief time together, Sydney knew Michael would do everything possible to take care of his daughter properly. However, as the previous night proved, sometimes things were not always possible.

“Yeah, I don’t like to eat lots, but I get lunch at school and then Daddy and I get dinner at a grocery store or at McDonald’s or something. Sometimes we eat at the shelters, but not too much ‘cause their food is gross,” Grace said with a grimace. Sydney nodded with a soft smile.

Once the dress-up fun was wearing off, Grace made her way out of Sydney’s closet and up onto Sydney’s king size, fluffy white canopy bed. She sprawled out on her back, her limbs going every which way though she still only took up a fraction of the space. “You gots a big bed Sydney.”

“I like a big bed,” Sydney told her. “It gives me lots of room to move around and try to get comfortable.”

“Oh yeah, that’s nice,” Grace smiled. “Can we go see what Daddy’s doing now? Maybe we can go see the puppies!” she said excitedly.

“Sure,” Sydney smiled, “let’s go.”



Chapter 8

After eating lunch, Michael, Sydney and Grace began their trek to Grace’s favorite pet store. Sydney offered to call her car service to take them, but Michael insisted they would walk. New Yorkers walked, he insisted; they only needed public transportation if going long distances or if going through rain or snow. As they walked, Sydney assured him that she was every part as much of a New Yorker as he, she simply preferred to be driven, especially if wearing high heels, which proved very painful if used to walk long distances.

At the pet store Sydney and Grace fussed and cooed over the puppies, which they both found utterly adorable and irresistible. As usual, Grace wanted to take each and every one of the puppies home. Michael was used to this considering he received the same sad face from her each and every time they went to the pet store and he gave her his standard, “Not now, but maybe someday,” line.

“Sydney how comes you don’t have a dog?” Grace asked her.

“Oh I don’t really have time I guess,” Sydney said as she cuddled the baby Golden Lab she had in her arms. “It might be nice to have one though…then my house wouldn’t be so empty.”

“Get this one,” Grace suggested with a grin.

Sydney laughed softly and put the puppy back in his cage. “No, not today…but maybe another time,” Sydney told her.

“That’s what you people always say!” Grace exclaimed to the adults, almost annoyed. “You should just do it!”

“We can’t just get a puppy sweetie; puppies need lots of care. They need to be walked and fed and played with. It’s not just like one of your stuffed animals,” Michael told her.

“Yeah I guess,” Grace sighed. “Can we go someplace else?”

“Like where?” Sydney asked. Grace shrugged.

The three of them decided to walk around for another hour before they returned to Sydney’s house. There, Michael informed Sydney that he and Grace needed to go somewhere for an hour or so, but they would be back for dinner. Of course Sydney was very skeptical of this, especially when he refused to tell her where they were going. She feared they would not return and she would never see them again. Though Michael promised he would be back, Sydney still looked skeptical and swore up and down that if he did not return, she would seek him out at work on Monday and he would get an earful, no matter how many people were listening and watching. Knowing that she would make good on that threat, Michael assured her that he would definitely be back.

While they were gone, Sydney could not help but wonder where they went. Michael had taken his large backpack with him, which made her think that maybe they went to a Laundromat, but even this did not make sense. If they were going to a Laundromat they most likely would have told her, for there is nothing shameful or secretive about that. Of course, Sydney would have insisted they use her washer and dryer, which was one possibility why they did not tell her, but for some reason she did not think their outing was as simple as going to wash their clothes.

Just as Michael promised, he and Grace returned at five o’clock, much to Sydney’s relief. Again she attempted to find out where they vanished to, but both Michael and Grace were tight-lipped. Realizing she was getting nowhere with their circular line of questioning, Sydney gave up and decided they would just have to open up to her in their own time.

“So how is school going Grace? You having fun?” Sydney asked while they ate their dinner.

“I guess… I want it to be Thanksgiving break though,” Grace sighed.

“Oh yeah, are you doing anything fun then?” Sydney asked.

“Well it’s Daddy’s birthday so…,” she let her voice drift off when her father gave her a silencing glare.

“Birthday hmm?” Sydney smiled at Michael. He said nothing, but turned his eyes back to his dinner plate. Realizing Michael wasn’t in the mood for a chat, she turned back to Grace. “What do you usually do to celebrate, hmm? Go visit your family?”

“Don’t got any. We just hang out and stuff… we also go to the movies,” Grace told her.

“Wow that sounds really fun. Do you go someplace on Thanksgiving?”

“Um…,” Grace said hesitantly, glancing up to her father.

Sighing heavily, Sydney set down her fork. From Grace’s silence, she guessed that they did not have a place to go for Thanksgiving and she suspected as much. If they didn’t have a home of their own, or any family to celebrate with, they would most likely end up at a shelter or some other type of charity giving away Thanksgiving. Luckily for them, Sydney was absolutely not going to let that happen.

“So if you don’t have any place to go for Thanksgiving you should come here,” Sydney said just as casually as ever.

“Could we?!” Grace asked excitedly.

“Grace,” Michael warned. Then he turned to Sydney and forced a smile while saying, “Thanks, but that really isn’t necessary.”

“It is necessary!” Grace insisted.

“Grace I’m sure Sydney’s family is coming to-”

“No they’re not,” Sydney chimed in. Michael looked at her rather surprised. “Now that my mother has acclimated herself to Florida’s warmth, she refuses to spend too much time here during winter. They’re coming here for Christmas. I was supposed to fly down for Thanksgiving but I…can’t get away from work,” she lied quickly before taking another large forkful of mashed potatoes.

“Can we come Daddy?!” Grace asked excitedly.

“I’ll…think about it,” Michael said quietly. Sydney smiled and looked over to Grace, who was grinning as well. Sydney gave her a subtle wink and Grace giggled softly before turning back to her dinner plate. True, she was cheating slightly by playing the little girl against her father, but it was for their own good; Grace and Michael did not need to eat disgusting, generic food at a shelter when they could spend the holiday with her.

After dinner was over, the three of them watched a movie of Grace’s choice before Grace fell asleep. Upon noticing this, Michael scooped her up and carried her upstairs, where he put her to bed. When he retuned, Sydney was sitting in the same position on the couch with her feet tucked underneath her, flipping through random television channels with the remote in her right hand.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked her.

Sydney switched off the television and looked at him. “What?”

“This.”

She shrugged. “Why not?”

“Because you don’t have to,” he said.

“Maybe… but I want to. I like helping and-”

“We don’t need help,” Michael said defiantly.

Sydney chose not to respond to this comment directly, for she knew it would only cause an argument. “Well, maybe you don’t need it then…maybe you don’t want it or maybe you’re too stubborn to admit to yourself that you do need it. Whatever the case is, I don’t care. I just like to help,” she smiled.

Michael shook his head slightly as his eyes narrowed at her. “You’re so…”

“Nosy? Obstinate? Too helpful for my own good?” she offered with a smile.

“Actually I was going to say annoying, but all of the above fits as well,” he smiled back at her. She laughed softly. “Seriously,” he said to her.

“Seriously…I’m doing this for me. I’m lonely and bored and…you interest me. My intentions are purely selfish, I assure you,” she said, coming up with a different answer on the fly just to appease him.

“I see…,” Michael sighed.

“Well,” Sydney sighed after a few minute silence hung between them. “I think I’m going to take a bath before I go to bed…goodnight Michael.” She stood from the couch, walked past him and was almost out the door of the family room area before she heard Michael say,

“Vaughn.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, turning around.

“My-our last name is Vaughn,” he told her simply.

A large smile crossed Sydney’s face. “Well then, Michael Vaughn, would you like to have Thanksgiving with me?” she asked. He gave her an annoyed look and she laughed. “If you’re still thinking about it….”

“No,” he sighed. “I’d… I’d like to have Thanksgiving with you,” he said, though it was obvious he was not overly excited about dong so.

“Good,” she smiled. Then, she went up to bed still wearing that same smile.



Chapter 9

After what could easily be described as a wonderful weekend for all, Sunday night arrived meaning Michael and Grace would be leaving in the morning. After having such a wonderful time with them Sydney did not want them to go, but she stopped herself from asking them to stay. For starters, with Michael’s very volatile feelings on the subject, posing such a request was likely to do more harm than good. She knew that they were going to be joining her for Thanksgiving in less than two weeks and that needed to be good enough.

Everyone knew Monday morning would be hectic with Michael needing to get Grace to school on time as well as himself ready for work and Sydney needing to get to work herself, so they said their goodbyes as Grace was going to bed. “Thank you Sydney,” Grace said to her as she assisted with the tucking into bed process.

“For what?” Sydney asked.

Grace shrugged. “Just ‘cause.”

“Oh well you’re welcome for whatever you’re thanking me for,” Sydney smiled at her. Then, she leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you in a few days alright? For Thanksgiving and we’ll have turkey and stuffing and cranberries and all kinds of yummy things okay?” Sydney said, tickling her belly softly.

“Now I’m hungry!” Grace told her. Sydney laughed softly at this, as did Michael.

“You’ve got to go to sleep Grace; you have school tomorrow,” Michael told her. Then he too kissed her forehead before following Sydney out into the hallway.

Sydney ushered Michael over to the stairs, where she sat on the top step and ushered for him to do the same. He did so with a look of confusion. “Well I just wanted to… I know you’re going to leave tomorrow, but I can’t help but be concerned that maybe you wont have another place to sleep again and-”

“That won’t happen,” Michael assured her. Sydney was about to open her mouth and protest but Michael stopped her. “No, it won’t. We got to the shelter late and it was full…that won’t happen again. We’ll go there right away.”

“Okay,” she said hesitantly, “but if it does-”

“It won’t.”

“If it does,” she continued, “come here. Please, Michael, please. Promise me you will not spend a night out on the street. Come here and you will always have a place to sleep. Promise me,” she said in an almost pleading manner.

“I promise,” Michael said quietly. He knew though, he would never do such a thing. They would find a space at the shelter no matter what.

“Alright,” Sydney smiled softly. “Goodnight Michael; I’ll see you on Thanksgiving Eve,” she said. Earlier that day, the two of them agreed that, for Grace’s sake, the two of them would spend the night at Sydney’s and then share their Thanksgiving meal together. Michael even suggested that they make their own food instead of letting Consuela do all the work, but Sydney was not so sure about that part of their little plan.

“Thanksgiving Eve,” Michael repeated, giving her a smile. Sydney gave his hand a light squeeze before standing and walking into her bedroom, hoping he would keep his promise if he needed to.

~*~

In the few days after Michael and Grace’s departure, Sydney was borderline obsessive about their whereabouts. Every night as she was going to bed, she would look out the windows of her house, as though she would see Michael and Grace huddled in little balls outside on her porch. On Friday night, a week after she first saw them on the street, snow flurries filled the air and kept Sydney up all night worrying Michael and Grace were outside. She tried to tell herself that Michael was a good father who would never endanger his daughter’s well being. If he did not get them into a shelter that night, he would have come to her…right? The problem was she just wasn’t sure.

Michael was a very proud man; that was easy to tell from a very brief conversation with him. A certain amount of pride was a good thing for a person to have. However, a slightly more than healthy amount combined with a stubborn streak (which Michael also possessed) was a dangerous combination.

If one thing was painfully obvious from the two months since Sydney’s first meeting with the Vaughn family, it was that Michael did not accept help from Sydney very willingly due to his stubborn and proud nature. It was reasonable to guess that he would not accept help from others who offered it either. He wanted to be able to provide for his daughter all on his own, which was all well and good if he was able to do so. The problem was that he could not.

Sydney was not sure what caused the Vaughn’s dire situation, though she was hoping to find out while spending more time with them over Thanksgiving. Whatever it was, it seemed to have put them into a rather irreversible situation, which meant they needed help that much more. Of course, with Michael unwilling to accept help, it became a rather circular problem that Sydney feared they would never escape. She wanted to help them though, and would do so as much as Michael allowed.

She had absolutely no idea what compelled her to help this unusual family. In fact it was almost laughable. Her close friends (of which there were very few) knew her as a hardened business woman who, at least in her business life, did not take any excuses or stubbornness from anyone, even if she did have a healthy amount of it in her own life. Accepting strangers into her home and giving them more help than they asked was very out of character for her. In fact, had it been anyone else she probably would not have done so. The Vaughn’s, however, were different.

For starters, there was the unusual way in which they met. If her car had not nearly killed them both, she probably would not have given them a second look and she would certainly not have invited them into her home. She was not a snob, per say, but simply did not interact with many random people she met on the streets.

The other thing that kept her thoughts focused on them was an attraction she could not explain any more than her attraction to anything. Something in Michael’s eyes was impossible for her to forget. It was a look of, not only caring for his daughter, but sadness and concern. Frankly, in his life, Sydney could not see anything that did not warrant concern, but it was more than just concern about having to sleep on the streets at night; it was a father’s concern for his daughter. Perhaps, she rationalized, that was the main source of her attraction. He was a man who loved children, a rare find in the business world in which she was submersed. Whatever the specific reason was, though, it did not matter; she could not wait to see them and (hopefully) get to know them a little bit more.



Chapter 10

After ten days that seemed more like ten months, Thanksgiving Eve arrived. Sydney left work early that day so that she would be home around the time she suspected Grace would be getting out of school. Of course she knew Michael was probably working for another hour or so yet, but she wanted to be there exactly when they arrived, not a second later.

After an hour and a half of pacing her foyer, Sydney spotted Michael and Grace walking up the stairs to her front door. Immediately she felt relieved and excited. She flew out the front door to meet them, her arms open wide to accept Grace into a smothering hug. The second she was able to, Grace jumped up into Sydney’s waiting arms and locked her legs around her waist. “Hi, Grace. How’ve you been?” Sydney asked her with a smile.

“Okay… I missed you,” Grace said.

“Well I missed you too,” Sydney said, rubbing her nose against the little girls’. Then she hoisted Grace further up on her hip before smiling at Michael, who was on the step below them. “Have a nice week?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It was alright.”

“Well it’s your birthday in two days I hope it gets better,” she smiled at him. Then the three of them made their way inside since it was rather chilly when exposed to the air, especially for Sydney, who was not wearing a jacket.

Inside, Grace went bounding up the stairs to drop her backpack off in ‘her’ room. Michael followed her (albeit at a slightly slower pace) informing her that they were still guests in Sydney’s house and she was not allowed to think of anything as hers. Sydney could not help but smile at this exchange; if Grace wanted to think of that room as hers Sydney had absolutely no problem with it. Her secret plan for that weekend was going to be asking Michael and Grace to stay with her at least until Christmas. She hoped that maybe if she could get them to stay for little bits at a time that…well, she was not sure of her ultimate goal. All she knew was that if it was up to her, they would never have to spend another night in a shelter.

“Sydney are we going to make our own turkey for tomorrow?” Grace asked when she and her father returned to the foyer after putting away their things in their respective rooms (during that stay, Michael would be taking the guest room across from Grace’s room, so he would not have to sleep on the floor beside Grace’s bed).

“Well, I don’t know about the turkey, but we can make some things. How about we make the desserts?” Sydney offered.

“YES! That’s my favorite part!” Grace exclaimed. “Daddy will help us, won’t you Daddy?”

“Sure sweetie,” he smiled at her.

“You can cook?” Sydney asked in a tone that made it obvious she would be shocked if he even knew how to turn on an oven.

“I guess you’ll find out, won’t you?” he smiled simply at her.

After dinner, when Consuela had gone home for the night, Sydney did indeed find out when Michael made a pie from scratch, crust and all, right in front of her. Her jaw was practically resting on the countertop when it turned out looking just as perfect if not more so than in the Betty Crocker recipe book she was looking at. “How?” she managed to croak out, wondering how someone whose profession was being a janitor possessed such abilities.

“Let’s just say it’s a hidden talent,” he smiled. “What should I make next Gracie?”

“Make the molasses cookies Daddy,” she told him.

“I can’t sweetie; we don’t have the ingredients,” Michael told her.

“What do you need? We’ll go get them!” Sydney insisted quickly. She did not want to see his cooking talents end before she had a chance to continue to be amazed by them.

“I’m sure all the stores are closed by now,” Michael told her.

“What are you kidding? This is New York! There has to be at least one grocery store on this island open at this time of night,” Sydney insisted.

Michael laughed and shook his head as he looked at her as though she was insane. “We’ll just make them this weekend… Grace needs to get to bed anyway.”

“Noooooooo,” she whined loudly.

“Yes,” Michael said, rubbing his flour covered finger on the tip of her nose. “C’mon you need a bath and then you’re going to bed little one.”

“I’m not little!” she insisted while stomping her foot on the ground.

“You’re littler than me because I can do this,” Michael said as he scooped her up over his shoulder. “I’ll clean this up when I come down,” he said to Sydney as he left the kitchen. Sydney laughed softly and shook her head as they disappeared. She then walked over to the counter and began cleaning up the mess Michael left. If he made them a wonderful pie, the least she could do was clean up.

As she wiped up spilt flour and remnant pieces of dough, Sydney couldn’t help but smile. She was glad Michael appeared to be loosening up around her. She hoped that maybe this meant he would not be opposed to sharing even just a little bit of himself with her; that she wanted more than anything.

“You cleaned…,” Michael said in a very surprised tone, when he returned to the kitchen almost an hour after he left.

“Yep,” Sydney called from her seat on the couch in the next room.

Michael walked in and sat down beside her. “You didn’t have to; I was going to.”

“I know, but I wanted to,” she told him with a smile.

“Really I thought you would have hired someone to do that for you,” he sighed casually.

Her jaw dropped at him. “Excuse me. I am perfectly capable of doing things, I just don’t want to do them. It’s a fine line.”

“I’m sure,” he rolled his eyes at her.

“Is Grace asleep?” she asked. Michael nodded. “She’s a great kid, you know.”

“I do know, but thank you. Its hard work being a single parent, but it’s definitely worth it,” he sighed.

Sydney nodded. “Grace…Grace said her mother passed away…”

Michael nodded gently. “When she was about eleven months old, yeah.”

“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking,” Sydney asked cautiously.

“Marie - that was her name - had an ectopic pregnancy. We didn’t know about it and it ruptured …and by the time she got to the hospital and they took her into surgery it was too late. They couldn’t stop the bleeding,” he explained to her.

“I’m sorry,” Sydney told him quietly.

“’s okay. It was a long time ago. I haven’t thought about her in a while actually… it’s funny,” he said, a soft smile crossing his face, “we were having so many problems at the time that she thought all her symptoms were stress so she never noticed…”

“Problems? Like…you were going to get divorced?” Sydney asked.

Surprisingly, Michael laughed softly. “No, we weren’t married. Actually, that was the basis of our problems. I wanted to get married; she didn’t.”

“I see,” Sydney nodded. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Sydney finally said something, needing to lighten the mood. “So, you’re birthday huh? How old will you be?”

“Thirty,” he told her simply.

“Ooo a milestone,” she smiled at him. He gave her a less than enthusiastic look. “Yeah I know the feeling; I’ll be thirty in April.”

“Fun isn’t it?” he asked rather rhetorically.

“Hey at least you have a kid! I’ve…got nothin’. No boyfriend…nothin’,” she shrugged.

“Oh yeah, it must be really hard for you to get one of those with your big fancy mansion and your hundredth floor office…must be tragic,” he said, obviously teasing her.

“Hey it’s harder than you think! Most of the guys I meet are either way too old or way too like…power suit business man. They don’t want a family,” she told him.

“But you do,” he said.

“But I do,” she confirmed with a smile.

“You’ll make a good Mom; you’re good with Grace. She really likes you,” Michael told her.

Sydney smiled even broader, glad to hear those words from him. “Well I really like her and thank you, that means a lot.”

“Anytime,” he smiled back at her.

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Chapters 11 - 20