Chapter 17
Layla's name flashed on the screen. Caroline's finger moved slightly to answer the call.
"Mommy, are you coming to pick us up today? It's okay if it's not convenient."
The little girl's crisp voice came through the phone, with a boy's chattering in the background.
Caroline started the car. "I'll pick you up. I'm already on my way, don't worry."
A slight sigh came from the other end, followed by the girl's somewhat disappointed voice, "Okay."
After hanging up, she looked at the congested traffic ahead and softly sighed.
She knew perfectly well what Layla meant by those words, but since the children were going to see Isaac after school, if she didn't pick them up, Isaac might get the wrong idea.
The car slowly merged into traffic, heading toward the school.
Sunlight streamed through the window onto her face, warm but unable to dispel the faint chill in her heart.
Layla's fingertips were still tingling with warmth as she tucked her phone back into the side pocket of her backpack.
She could still hear Caroline's gentle "I'm on my way" echoing in her ears, but the disappointment in her heart was rising like a tide, threatening to overwhelm her.
She secretly unzipped her backpack and stared at the rolled-up drawing inside.
She had wrapped the edges of the cream-colored frame with colorful ribbon tied in a bow. The drawing was of a sunflower field that had taken her three weekends to complete.
She remembered Heidi saying that looking at sunflowers was like looking at the sun—they always made people happy.
But now, she couldn't even ask Heidi in person what color wrapping paper she preferred.
"Layla, is Mommy really coming?" Logan's chubby little hand clutched tightly at the hem of her shirt, his tone painfully sincere, as if he desperately wanted to see her shake her head.
But Layla took a deep breath, pushing the drawing deeper into her backpack, and nodded slightly. "Mommy said she's already on her way. She'll definitely be here before school lets out. Ms. White won't be able to pick us up."
Last week when Heidi came to get them, she had knelt down and ruffled Layla's hair, saying, "My art exhibition is next Thursday. I've already prepared the outfits. Layla, you absolutely can't miss it."
At the time, she had promised to give Heidi a one-of-a-kind painting, but now...
Logan suddenly let go of her hand, his little leather shoes stomping loudly on the floor. "I don't want Mommy to come!"
His little face turned bright red, tears welling in his eyes like beads on a broken string. "Ms. White always used to pick us up! She would bring strawberry cotton candy and listen to our school stories. Mommy only asks if we've finished our homework and if we've been eating properly at school."
He grew increasingly upset, his small hands clenched into fists. "What if Ms. White thinks we don't like her anymore and stops coming to see us? Last time she gave me that toy car, I didn't even get to tell her I named it!"
Layla's heart tightened.
She thought of the wall of paintings in Heidi's study, of how patiently Heidi had held her hand teaching her to mix colors, of how Heidi had seriously framed and hung her messy scribbles in the entryway...
Those tender memories were like shards of glass, making her eyes sting.
"Let's call Ms. White," she bit her lower lip and pulled out her children's phone from her backpack.
Next to "Ms. White" on the screen was a pink heart sticker she had added herself last Christmas.
The sound of the call connecting seemed especially clear in the quiet classroom.
Layla could feel her brother holding his breath, his small body pressed tightly against hers like a frightened little animal.
Seconds ticked by, the dial tone like drumbeats against her heart, making her fingertips numb.
Just when she thought Heidi wouldn't answer, a familiar voice came through, slightly hoarse as if just finishing another call, "Hello, is that Layla and Logan?"
"Ms. White!" both children cried out in unison, the distress in their voices almost palpable.
Logan jumped in before Layla could speak, his voice tearful. "Ms. White, are you mad at us? Why haven't you come to pick us up these days? Is it because... because Mommy came back?"
There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, then soft laughter. "Silly, how could I be angry with you?"
Heidi's voice was as gentle as a feather. "The company's been busy with a big project lately. We have so many meetings every day, and now you're staying at your great grandfather's house in the evenings. It wouldn't be right for me to keep disturbing him."
She paused, her tone playful. "Once things calm down, I'll take you to see an art exhibition, okay? Layla, didn't you say you were preparing a gift for me? Make sure to give it to me in person."
After hanging up, Layla looked at her brother's red-rimmed eyes and suddenly clenched her small fist. "I wish Mommy was as busy as Ms. White. I wish Ms. White could come to our house."
Logan's eyes darted around, and he leaned in to whisper in Layla's ear, "I have an idea..."
When Caroline parked her car in the shade by the roadside, her watch showed exactly four-thirty.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the sycamore leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The air was filled with the scent of fresh grass and earth.
She had just taken out the latest issue of a neurology journal and turned a couple of pages when she heard arguing nearby.
"I really did have an appointment with Ms. Cook!" a woman's voice cried out tearfully. "Please let us in to look around. My child is almost seven—if she doesn't start school soon, she'll fall behind!"
Caroline closed her book and walked over. Near the security booth at the school gate, a woman in a floral dress was pacing anxiously, holding the hand of a little girl with pigtails.
The girl was hiding timidly behind the woman, clutching a cloth doll tightly, her large eyes filled with uncertainty.
"It's not that I'm being difficult," the security guard said sternly, tapping his rubber baton on the ground.
"School rules state that without written permission from the principal or a teacher, no one can enter. Besides, you say you had an appointment, but why can't you reach her by phone?"
"I don't know either! This is definitely Ms. Cook's number, but for some reason I can't get through. Her phone must be turned off."
The woman was so anxious she was sweating. She showed her phone to the security guard. "Look, this really is her number. I'm not lying!"
Caroline looked at the little girl's doe-like eyes and felt a softening in her heart.
She approached and asked gently, "Which teacher did you have an appointment with?"
"With Ms. Violet Cook from Class 1-3!"
The woman grabbed at this lifeline and quickly explained, "My name is Libbie Gomez, and this is my daughter Rena. We just moved here from Sunnydale City yesterday and had arranged to visit the school today..."