The Warrior and The Wren, No. 36

Chronicle 36

“The Door”

Sarah's phone rang.

She glanced at the screen.

Unknown number.

She almost ignored it.

Then thought better of it.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Eriksson?"

"Yes?"

"Hi. This is Marcus from building management."

Sarah sat a little straighter.

"Oh."

Whenever building management called...

Something was happening.

Nothing terrible, necessarily.

Just...

Something.

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine."

Good.

"We're contacting residents about some work we're planning for the building."

Sarah looked toward the living room.

Lars was sitting on the floor.

Peter stood between his knees.

Lars held the little boy's hands.

"Come on."

Peter took one step.

Then another.

Then collapsed directly onto his father.

Lars fell backward dramatically.

"Ah!"

Peter squealed.

Sophia immediately joined the attack.

Sarah smiled.

"What kind of work?"

"We're upgrading the building's entrance security."

Sarah frowned slightly.

"What's wrong with it now?"

"Nothing."

That was reassuring.

"We're replacing the existing locks with an electronic access system."

Sarah listened.

"Residents will receive security fobs."

"Okay."

"The system detects an authorized fob when you approach an entrance."

Sarah looked down.

Fido had appeared beside her.

Of course he had.

He brushed against her leg.

Sarah scratched behind his ears.

"So I don't have to take it out?"

"That's the idea."

"The sensor recognizes the fob automatically."

"The door unlocks..."

"...and you simply push it open."

Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"No key?"

"No key."

"No handle?"

"You won't have to turn one."

Sarah considered that.

She wasn't entirely sure this constituted a problem requiring a solution.

"So..."

She looked toward the front door.

"...the thing we have now works."

The manager laughed.

"It does."

"Good."

Sarah smiled.

"I was worried I'd missed something."

"No."

"The current system is perfectly functional."

"This is primarily a convenience and security upgrade."

Sarah shrugged.

Fair enough.

She didn't own the building.

If management wanted fancy doors...

Management could have fancy doors.

"When are you doing it?"

"That's actually why I'm calling."

Sarah stopped scratching Fido.

"Oh."

"We're asking residents for consent to perform some of the installation work overnight."

Sarah frowned.

"Overnight?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It's considerably easier."

"Fewer residents moving through the entrances."

"We don't have to constantly stop work to let people through."

"...and we can temporarily disable individual entrances without inconveniencing as many people."

Sarah nodded slowly.

That made sense.

"How long?"

"It shouldn't take long."

Sarah waited.

"About an hour."

Sarah looked toward the living room again.

Lars was now lying flat on his back.

Sophia sat on his stomach.

Peter had apparently discovered his father's nose.

Fido noticed.

His ears perked up.

Sarah immediately pointed at him.

"No."

Fido looked at her.

"You are not joining them."

His tail wagged.

"No."

The manager paused.

"Mrs. Eriksson?"

"Sorry."

She laughed.

"Dog."

"Ah."

"He thinks everything happening in this house involves him."

Fido wagged harder.

Sarah looked down.

"See?"

The manager laughed.

"So would overnight work be acceptable?"

Sarah considered it.

An hour.

Maybe some drilling.

Some noise.

Workers coming through the hallways.

Not ideal.

Then again...

Doing it during the day probably meant workers competing with residents constantly entering and leaving.

Doors opening.

Doors closing.

Kids.

Deliveries.

People going to work.

People coming home.

An hour at night seemed easier.

"Yeah."

"That's fine."

"You're sure?"

Sarah shrugged.

"You have my permission."

"Thank you."

"What time are you thinking?"

"We haven't finalized the schedule yet."

"Okay."

"We'll notify everyone before work begins."

"That's fine."

"...and if anything changes, we'll contact you."

"Perfect."

The manager continued explaining.

There would be temporary access procedures while individual entrances were being converted.

Residents would receive their fobs beforehand.

Existing emergency systems would remain operational.

Nothing inside Sarah's apartment needed to be changed.

That was probably the most important part.

"So nobody needs to come in here?"

"No."

Sarah smiled.

"Even better."

"The work is entirely in the common areas."

"Great."

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs. Eriksson."

"No problem."

"We'll send the details shortly."

"Sounds good."

"Have a good evening."

"You too."

The call ended.

Sarah lowered the phone.

That was easy.

She looked toward the living room.

Lars was still on the floor.

Sophia was laughing.

Peter had managed to climb halfway onto his chest.

Lars looked toward Sarah.

"Help."

Sarah smiled.

"No."

"Sarah."

"You did this."

"They outnumber me."

"They're babies."

"They're vicious."

Sophia squealed happily.

Lars pointed.

"See?"

Sarah laughed.

Fido brushed against her leg again.

She looked down.

"...and you're staying out of it."

Fido stared up at her.

Then looked toward Lars.

Then back at Sarah.

He seemed to be evaluating his options.

"Don't."

Fido walked toward the living room.

"Fido."

He continued.

"Fido."

Lars saw him coming.

"No."

Fido's tail began wagging.

"No, no, no-"

Fido launched himself into the pile.

Lars disappeared beneath children and dog.

Sarah burst out laughing.

"Traitor!"

She leaned against the wall.

For a moment...

She simply watched.

Lars laughing.

Sophia squealing.

Peter grabbing whatever part of his father he could reach.

Fido enthusiastically making everything worse.

Sarah smiled.

This...

She liked.

No wrestling.

No travelling.

No Sven.

No arguments.

No wondering when Lars was coming home.

Just...

Her family.

Her ridiculous family.

Her phone buzzed.

A message from building management.

SECURITY SYSTEM UPGRADE

Sarah glanced over it.

Electronic entry.

Security fobs.

Automatic unlocking.

Overnight installation.

Approximately one hour.

She locked the screen.

Nothing particularly exciting.

The current doors worked perfectly well.

She couldn't imagine anyone in the building desperately waiting for the revolutionary day when they no longer had to turn a handle.

Still...

It sounded convenient.

Management wanted it.

Management owned the place.

...and if doing the work at night made everything easier...

Why argue?

Sarah slipped the phone into her pocket.

Tonight might be a little annoying.

Maybe there would be some noise.

Maybe somebody would wake the twins.

Hopefully not.

An hour wasn't so bad.

She looked toward Lars again.

He had finally managed to sit up.

Sophia was in his arms.

Peter sat beside him.

Fido had somehow claimed the centre of the rug.

Sarah smiled.

Hopefully...

It wouldn't get too complicated.

The Door

Sarah woke to knocking.

Not ringing.

Not her phone vibrating.

Knocking.

Three sharp knocks against the apartment door.

She opened her eyes.

Darkness.

For several seconds...

She had no idea what was happening.

Then-

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Sarah groaned.

She reached toward the nightstand.

Her phone illuminated.

10:02 PM

She stared.

"No."

Beside her...

Lars remained completely unconscious.

Sarah looked at him.

The man had slept through the knocking.

He had apparently also slept through Sarah moving.

She pushed herself upright.

Nothing.

She stood.

Nothing.

She accidentally bumped the edge of the bed.

Nothing.

"Lars."

Nothing.

Sarah stared.

"Unbelievable."

Another knock.

Right.

The door.

She pulled on a robe.

Then walked quietly through the apartment.

Sophia and Peter were asleep.

Hopefully.

Fido was not.

Fido appeared from somewhere in the darkness and immediately followed her.

"Of course you're awake."

His tail wagged.

Sarah reached the door.

Opened it.

...and found two Felids standing outside.

Sarah blinked.

Not because they were Felids.

Because she had expected building management.

Or...

At least somebody who looked like building management.

Instead, two contractors stood in the hallway carrying tools.

Both were Felids.

Humanoid.

Mostly.

Their faces carried unmistakably feline features.

Long whiskers.

Bare black noses shaped almost exactly like those of cats.

Catlike ears protruding above thick masses of hair.

Far too much hair.

Enough that it almost resembled fur covering the tops and backs of their heads.

Under the hallway lights, both seemed to have blue hair.

Not dyed.

Not truly blue.

Sarah knew that phenomenon.

Phoebe's hair did the same thing.

Dark pigment reflecting light in a way that made it appear blue beneath certain conditions.

One of the Felids smiled.

"Good evening."

His English was heavily accented.

Sarah smiled back.

"Hi."

The second Felid said something.

Sarah understood absolutely none of it.

Not one word.

The language sounded vaguely familiar.

Not because Sarah spoke it.

She didn't.

Something northern.

Something Cree-like.

Maybe related.

Maybe not.

Sarah had heard enough languages during her wrestling years to know better than to pretend she understood one merely because it sounded similar to another.

The English-speaking Felid pointed toward the door.

"We work."

Sarah nodded.

"The new security system?"

"Yes."

He pointed toward the frame.

"Door."

"Okay."

"Change."

"Right."

The Felid searched for another word.

"Electric."

Sarah smiled.

"I know."

He seemed relieved.

Then gestured toward the second contractor.

"He do."

The second Felid nodded politely.

Sarah nodded back.

"Okay."

Then the first contractor pointed farther down the hallway.

"I go."

"Other doors."

"Workers."

Sarah understood enough.

He was supervising.

This contractor would handle her doorway.

He would handle the others.

"That's fine."

The supervisor smiled.

"Thank you."

Then he walked away.

Sarah watched him disappear around the corner.

The remaining contractor immediately began unpacking tools.

Sarah stepped aside.

Fido attempted to investigate.

"No."

Fido ignored her.

The Felid looked down.

Fido looked up.

For several seconds...

Dog and cat-person stared at each other.

Sarah covered her mouth.

"Fido."

The contractor smiled slightly.

Fido wagged his tail.

Apparently diplomacy had been achieved.

Sarah grabbed Fido gently by the collar.

"Come on."

He resisted.

"You're not helping."

Fido looked toward the contractor again.

Sarah pulled him inside.

The work began.

...

At first...

Everything seemed fine.

Loud.

...but fine.

The old door came off.

Then parts of the frame.

Tools buzzed.

Metal scraped.

Something drilled into stone.

Sarah sat nearby.

Not because she wanted to supervise.

Because her front door was being removed at ten o'clock at night.

Going back to bed felt...

Optimistic.

Every so often the contractor said something.

Sarah didn't understand.

Every so often Sarah said something.

The contractor didn't understand.

Neither seemed particularly bothered.

This wasn't unusual.

Sarah had wrestled in countries where she didn't know ten words of the local language.

She'd shared locker rooms with women who knew almost no English.

People pointed.

Gestured.

Demonstrated.

Smiled.

Usually...

That was enough.

The contractor pointed toward a tool.

Sarah moved.

He smiled.

Good.

He pointed toward the hallway.

Sarah nodded.

Good.

At one point he needed access to an electrical panel near the doorway.

He pointed.

Sarah understood.

Opened it.

Good.

Communication.

Sort of.

Everything worked.

Sarah wondered why she'd been worried.

The manager had said an hour.

Maybe she'd be back in bed by eleven.

...

Then...

The contractor stopped.

Sarah noticed immediately.

The drilling stopped.

The scraping stopped.

Everything stopped.

The Felid crouched beside the doorway.

He stared at something inside the frame.

Then leaned closer.

His expression changed.

Not panic.

Not fear.

Concern.

Technical concern.

He touched one section.

Looked at another.

Then stood.

Sarah watched from the couch.

A minute passed.

Then two.

The worker removed one tool.

Tried something.

Stopped again.

Sarah frowned.

"What happened?"

The Felid looked toward her.

Sarah pointed toward the doorway.

"What is happening?"

The contractor stared.

He understood that she was asking a question.

That much was obvious.

The problem was the answer.

He said something in his own language.

Sarah stared.

"I'm sorry."

He tried again.

Slower.

That did not help.

Sarah shook her head.

"I don't understand."

The contractor sighed.

Not angrily.

Frustrated with the situation.

He pointed toward the frame.

Then toward the wires.

Then made a gesture Sarah couldn't interpret.

Something was wrong.

That much she understood.

"What?"

The contractor tried one English word.

"Problem."

Sarah's stomach tightened.

"What problem?"

The Felid looked helpless.

"Problem."

"Okay."

Sarah stood.

"What kind of problem?"

Nothing.

"Electrical?"

She pointed toward the wires.

The contractor said something.

Sarah didn't understand.

"Door?"

More unfamiliar words.

"Frame?"

Nothing useful.

Sarah rubbed her forehead.

"Can you call the other guy?"

The contractor stared.

"The man who speaks English."

Nothing.

Sarah mimed holding a phone.

"Phone?"

The Felid understood that.

He reached into his pocket.

Good.

Then...

He looked at the screen.

Said something.

Put it away.

Sarah blinked.

"What?"

No answer.

Maybe nobody answered.

Maybe he had no signal.

Maybe the supervisor had told him something.

Maybe-

The contractor began packing his tools.

Sarah stared.

"No."

The worker continued.

"Wait."

He picked up another tool.

"Wait."

Sarah moved toward him.

"You're leaving?"

The contractor looked at her.

Sarah pointed down the hallway.

"Leaving?"

The Felid hesitated.

Then nodded.

Sarah's eyes widened.

"When are you coming back?"

Nothing.

"When?"

She pointed toward her wrist.

No watch.

Didn't matter.

"When?"

The worker clearly understood that she wanted information.

He clearly did not possess enough English to provide it.

He said something softly.

Sarah stared.

"I'm sorry."

He tried again.

Nothing.

Then he lifted his tool bag.

Walked toward the hallway.

Sarah followed.

"Wait."

The Felid stopped.

She pointed toward the doorway.

There was no door.

Not an open door.

No door.

The entire slab had been removed.

Part of the frame had been dismantled.

Several wires protruded from the exposed structure.

Sarah pointed.

"Door."

The contractor nodded.

"Yes."

"Where is it?"

He didn't understand.

"When do I get it back?"

Nothing.

"Tonight?"

The Felid stared.

Sarah pointed at the exposed doorway.

Then toward him.

Then toward the hallway.

"You can't just leave this."

The contractor's ears shifted slightly.

He looked uncomfortable.

Sarah immediately felt bad.

He wasn't trying to cause a problem.

He simply couldn't explain one.

...but that didn't make her doorway less missing.

The worker said something else.

Then gestured down the hall.

Perhaps-

Someone else?

Supervisor?

Parts?

Sarah had no idea.

"Are you coming back?"

The Felid gave a small shrug.

That was somehow worse.

Then he left.

Sarah stood inside the doorway.

Watched him disappear down the corridor.

Waited.

Maybe he'd return in thirty seconds.

Maybe he was getting someone.

Maybe-

A minute passed.

Two.

Three.

Nothing.

Sarah slowly looked toward the frame.

No door.

Exposed wires.

Partially installed electronic hardware.

A gap directly from her apartment into the hallway.

She stared.

Then looked down at the wires.

Were they live?

Sarah had no idea.

Probably not.

Maybe.

The system was electrical.

Electronic locks.

Sensors.

Power.

She certainly wasn't touching them.

She wasn't even sure she wanted to walk through the frame.

What if one of the wires was live?

What if brushing against something damaged the system?

What if-

Sarah stepped backward.

"Wonderful."

Fido appeared beside her.

He looked through the doorway.

"No."

Sarah immediately grabbed him.

Fido leaned forward.

"No."

She pulled him back.

"Absolutely not."

Fido seemed confused.

There was normally a door here.

Now there wasn't.

Naturally...

This made it fascinating.

Sarah pushed him farther into the apartment.

"Stay."

Fido did not stay.

Sarah pointed.

"Fido."

He stayed.

Temporarily.

Sarah looked toward the bedroom.

Lars remained asleep.

She stared.

Then looked back toward the doorway.

Then toward Lars.

Then toward the doorway again.

"You have got to be kidding me."

She walked back into the bedroom.

"Lars."

Nothing.

"Lars."

Nothing.

Sarah pushed his shoulder.

He groaned.

"Mm?"

"Lars."

"What?"

"We don't have a door."

Silence.

His eyes remained closed.

"What?"

"Our door is gone."

Lars opened one eye.

"What do you mean gone?"

Sarah stared.

"I mean..."

She pointed toward the hallway.

"...we do not have a door."

Lars blinked.

Slowly.

His brain attempted to join the conversation.

"Why?"

"The workers removed it."

"Okay."

"...and then they left."

Both eyes opened.

"What?"

"Exactly."

Lars sat up.

Sarah crossed her arms.

"There's no door."

"There are wires sticking out of the frame."

"I don't know whether they're live."

"I don't know whether I can walk through it."

"I don't know when anyone is coming back."

"...and the only person who was here speaks practically no English."

Lars stared at her.

Then toward the bedroom door.

As if he could somehow see the missing front door through several walls.

"They just left?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Sarah threw both hands into the air.

"I DON'T KNOW."

Lars winced.

Sarah immediately lowered her voice.

The kids.

Right.

She took a breath.

"I asked."

"He tried to explain."

"I didn't understand."

"He said 'problem.'"

"What problem?"

"I don't know."

"Did you ask?"

Sarah stared.

Lars reconsidered.

"Right."

Sarah rubbed both hands over her face.

"I know there's probably a perfectly good reason."

"Something doesn't fit."

"Something isn't wired properly."

"They need another part."

"Maybe they found something unexpected inside the old frame."

"I don't know."

She pointed toward the living room.

"That's the entire problem."

"I don't know."

Lars climbed out of bed.

Together...

They walked toward the entrance.

He stopped.

Stared.

"...Oh."

Sarah nodded.

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Exactly."

The doorway looked considerably worse now that nobody was working on it.

Tools were gone.

Worker gone.

Door gone.

Only the unfinished frame remained.

Several wires protruded awkwardly from one side.

Lars stepped closer.

Sarah immediately grabbed his arm.

"Don't."

He stopped.

"I wasn't going to touch it."

"You were absolutely going to touch it."

"I was going to look."

"You can look from here."

Lars stared at the wires.

"Are they live?"

Sarah slowly turned toward him.

Lars nodded.

"Right."

Stupid question.

Fido appeared again.

Sarah immediately blocked him with her leg.

"No."

Fido changed direction.

"No."

He changed direction again.

Sarah moved again.

"Fido!"

Lars grabbed him.

"I've got him."

"Good."

Fido looked personally betrayed.

Sarah crossed her arms.

Then stared down the empty hallway.

Nobody.

No contractor.

No supervisor.

No building manager.

Nothing.

Her phone remained silent.

The clock read-

10:47 PM

Sarah's eyes narrowed.

The manager had said an hour.

Technically...

They still had thirteen minutes.

She looked at the missing door.

The exposed wiring.

The open apartment.

Then toward Lars.

"Do you think they're coming back?"

Lars looked down the hallway.

"I assume so."

"When?"

"I don't know."

Sarah closed her eyes.

There it was again.

The phrase of the evening.

I don't know.

She had agreed to nighttime work because it was supposed to be easier.

Less disruptive.

More convenient.

One hour.

That had been the pitch.

Instead...

It was almost eleven at night.

Her children were sleeping.

Her husband had barely woken up.

Her dog was desperately trying to investigate exposed electrical wiring.

...and her apartment no longer had a front door.

Sarah stared into the hallway.

Somewhere in this building...

Someone presumably knew what was happening.

Unfortunately...

It wasn't her.

The Temporary Door

Sarah drank coffee.

At three in the morning.

She didn't want coffee.

She wanted sleep.

Coffee was simply the substance currently preventing sleep from winning.

She sat on the couch.

Cup in both hands.

Robe wrapped tightly around her.

Eyes fixed upon the place where her front door was supposed to be.

There still wasn't one.

Just...

A doorway.

An unfinished frame.

Wires.

Hallway.

Sarah took another drink.

The coffee had stopped tasting good about two cups ago.

It didn't matter.

Lars had gone back to bed.

Not immediately.

To his credit...

He had stayed awake with her for a while.

He had checked on Sophia.

Checked on Peter.

Taken Fido into the bedroom so Sarah didn't have to spend the entire night stopping the dog from exploring the electrical work.

Then, eventually...

He had started falling asleep sitting up.

Sarah had looked at him.

Lars had looked at Sarah.

They both understood.

"You should sleep."

Lars had frowned.

"So should you."

"I can't."

He looked toward the doorway.

Right.

Someone had to be awake.

Someone had to make sure nobody simply walked into their apartment.

Someone had to be there when the contractors returned.

Assuming they returned.

Lars rubbed his face.

"Okay."

Sarah nodded.

"I'll take the kids tomorrow."

She looked at him.

"What?"

"You sleep."

Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"I'll get up with Sophia and Peter."

"Both of them?"

"Yes."

"By yourself?"

Lars looked offended.

"I am their father."

"I know."

"You don't sound convinced."

Sarah smiled.

"I am convinced you'll try."

"Sarah."

She laughed.

Then softened.

"Thank you."

Lars kissed her forehead.

"You sleep as long as you want."

Sarah smiled.

"Okay."

Then immediately imagined it.

Eight in the morning.

Sarah?

Nine.

Sarah, where are Peter's clothes?

Nine-fifteen.

Sarah, what does Sophia eat?

Nine-thirty.

Sarah, where are the wipes?

Ten.

Sarah, Peter's doing something.

Sarah's smile became less convincing.

Lars noticed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're thinking something."

"I'm thinking I'll enjoy sleeping in."

"You will."

"Absolutely."

Lars stared at her.

Sarah smiled sweetly.

"Go to bed."

Eventually...

He did.

...

Sarah remained.

Coffee.

Couch.

Doorway.

Time passed.

Eleven.

Midnight.

One.

Sarah checked her phone repeatedly.

Nothing from management.

Nothing from the contractors.

No update.

No explanation.

No estimated return.

Nothing.

At one-thirty...

She almost called management.

Then remembered...

It was one-thirty in the morning.

Would anyone answer?

There had to be somebody managing the overnight work.

Surely.

Then again...

She didn't have that person's number.

She had the regular management number.

The same people who had told her-

About an hour.

Sarah stared at the doorway.

"About."

She laughed once.

Not happily.

At two...

Her eyelids began fighting her.

She stood.

Walked around.

Made more coffee.

Splashed water on her face.

Returned to the couch.

At two-thirty...

She caught herself drifting.

Her head dropped.

Then snapped upright.

"No."

She stood again.

Walked toward the kitchen.

Opened the refrigerator.

Stared inside.

She wasn't hungry.

Closed it.

Walked back.

Still no door.

"Wonderful."

At three...

Sarah started seriously wondering what she was supposed to do if nobody returned.

Call Peace?

That felt excessive.

Call building management?

Probably.

Call emergency maintenance?

Maybe.

Call somebody and simply say-

Hello, my apartment currently has no front door.

That sounded ridiculous.

It also happened to be true.

Sarah rubbed her eyes.

The caffeine wasn't working anymore.

It was simply making her tired...

...with a faster heartbeat.

She sat back down.

Waited.

Three-fifteen.

Three-thirty.

Nothing.

Then-

Footsteps.

Sarah's eyes opened fully.

She sat upright.

The footsteps approached.

Slowly.

Tools rattling.

Sarah stood.

At 3:42 AM...

The Felid returned.

Sarah almost cried with relief.

"Oh, thank God."

The worker looked toward her.

Probably understood none of that.

Didn't matter.

He was back.

That was enough.

For approximately five seconds.

Then Sarah noticed what he was carrying.

She frowned.

The Felid carried several pieces of wood.

Not finished wood.

Not something resembling the sleek electronic door Sarah had expected.

Wood.

Painted white.

Vertical slats.

A small rectangular framework.

Sarah stared.

Her exhaustion briefly vanished.

"...What is that?"

The Felid continued toward the doorway.

Sarah followed.

He placed the pieces down.

Sarah stared harder.

She knew what that was.

Or...

What it looked like.

A gate.

A little gate.

The sort of thing somebody put around a garden.

Or a backyard.

Or perhaps in front of a kitchen to keep a dog out.

It looked...

Almost exactly like a section of picket fence.

Sarah blinked.

"No."

The contractor began working.

Sarah approached.

"Is that the door?"

No answer.

She pointed.

"Door?"

The Felid nodded.

Sarah's eyes widened.

"That's the door?"

Another nod.

Sarah stared at the little wooden gate.

Then toward the contractor.

Then back at the gate.

Surely...

Surely this was temporary.

It had to be.

Nobody installed an electronic security system into a medieval castle apartment...

...then finished the job with something that looked stolen from somebody's backyard.

The worker began fitting a basic wooden surround into the existing opening.

Sarah watched.

He wasn't rebuilding the actual doorframe.

He was covering it.

Specifically...

Covering the exposed wires.

The pieces created a simple barrier between the wiring and anyone walking through the entrance.

That part...

Sarah understood.

Maybe.

Probably.

The gate itself went across the opening.

Not all the way to the ceiling.

Not even close.

Sarah stared.

It was waist height.

Maybe slightly higher.

There was a latch.

A normal latch.

Nothing electronic about it.

Nothing automatic.

Nothing secure.

Sarah folded her arms.

"You cannot possibly be serious."

The contractor continued working.

Sarah walked closer.

"Temporary?"

The Felid looked toward her.

Sarah pointed at the gate.

"Temporary?"

Nothing.

She tried again.

"Not permanent."

She shook her head dramatically.

Then pointed at the gate.

"Temporary."

The contractor stared.

Perhaps he understood.

Perhaps he didn't.

He said something.

Sarah understood none of it.

She closed her eyes.

"Of course."

The Felid returned to work.

Sarah watched him install the frame.

Then the gate.

Then the simple covering around the wiring.

Everything suddenly looked...

Safer.

Technically.

The wires were no longer exposed.

Fido couldn't simply shove his nose into them.

Nobody could accidentally brush against them.

Good.

That was progress.

...but Sarah stared at the gate.

A child could climb over it.

An adult could step over it.

Someone sufficiently athletic could probably clear it without touching the thing.

Lars could almost certainly jump it.

Sarah herself probably could.

She frowned.

"How is this adequate?"

The Felid looked toward her.

Sarah pointed to the gate.

"Security?"

Nothing.

She lifted the latch.

Opened it.

Closed it.

Then looked at him.

"This is supposed to keep people out?"

The contractor said something.

Sarah stared.

"...Sure."

He continued securing the temporary framework.

Sarah rubbed her forehead.

She wanted to be fair.

She really did.

The contractor wasn't responsible for the communication gap.

He was doing what somebody had told him to do.

There was probably a completely reasonable explanation.

Maybe the proper door didn't fit.

Maybe the electronics were defective.

Maybe another contractor needed to finish the wiring.

Maybe the replacement door had to be modified.

Maybe there was a safety standard requiring the wires to be covered overnight.

Maybe this ridiculous little gate existed specifically so residents could at least close something while the proper installation was delayed.

That actually made sense.

The problem remained...

Sarah didn't know.

Nobody had told her.

Nobody could tell her.

She was guessing.

Again.

The contractor finished.

Stood.

Looked over his work.

Sarah looked over his work.

They had very different expressions.

He seemed satisfied.

Sarah looked like she had discovered someone had installed patio furniture in her living room.

"Okay."

She pointed toward the gate.

"When does the real door come?"

Nothing.

"Real door."

She pointed farther down the hallway.

Then toward the empty upper half of the entrance.

"Later?"

The Felid looked uncertain.

Sarah pointed toward her phone.

"Tonight?"

Nothing.

"Morning?"

Nothing.

"Tomorrow?"

The contractor said something.

Sarah listened carefully.

Maybe...

If she concentrated...

No.

Absolutely nothing.

She shook her head.

"I'm sorry."

The Felid tried another sentence.

Still nothing.

He gestured toward the hallway.

Sarah's stomach tightened.

"You're leaving again?"

He nodded.

"Are you coming back?"

Nothing.

"Someone coming back?"

Nothing.

"Tonight?"

Nothing.

The Felid gathered his tools.

Sarah's irritation rose.

Not toward him.

Not entirely.

Toward everything.

Toward management.

Toward the planning.

Toward agreeing to this.

Toward the phrase-

about an hour.

It was now nearly four o'clock in the morning.

Sarah had a garden gate for a front door.

She still had no explanation.

The contractor lifted his bag.

Sarah tried once more.

"Please."

That made him stop.

She pointed toward the gate.

Then toward herself.

Then mimed sleeping.

"Can I sleep?"

The Felid watched.

Sarah pointed toward the hallway.

Then toward the gate.

"Safe?"

She hoped that translated.

The contractor nodded.

Sarah studied him.

"Safe?"

Another nod.

That...

Was something.

Maybe.

She sighed.

"Okay."

The worker smiled.

Then left.

Sarah stood behind the gate.

Watched him disappear.

Again.

Footsteps faded.

Tools faded.

Silence returned.

Sarah stared down the hallway.

Then at her new...

Door.

She reached forward.

Touched the wooden slats.

Real.

Definitely real.

She lifted the latch.

Opened the gate.

Closed it again.

The entire thing reminded her of something meant to keep Peter away from stairs.

Not something meant to protect an apartment.

Sarah looked upward.

Nothing.

Open space.

Anyone could reach over.

Anyone could climb over.

Anyone could-

She stopped.

Don't do this.

Don't catastrophize.

The building itself remained secure.

There were still outer entrances.

There were cameras.

Other residents.

Staff.

This was almost certainly temporary.

Almost certainly.

Sarah desperately wanted someone to say those words.

Nobody had.

She checked the time.

4:03 AM

She stared.

Maybe another worker would come.

Maybe the English-speaking supervisor would return.

Maybe this contractor had gone to retrieve the proper door.

Maybe management would call.

Maybe-

Sarah sat on the couch.

She wasn't going to sleep.

Not yet.

She needed answers.

She picked up her coffee.

Cold.

She drank it anyway.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

No one came.

Sarah checked the hallway.

Nothing.

She returned.

Sat.

Waited.

At four-thirty...

Her eyes closed.

She forced them open.

"No."

She stood.

Walked.

Sat again.

At some point...

She stopped checking the clock.

Her thoughts blurred.

Anger mixed with exhaustion.

Tomorrow-

No.

Today.

Today she was calling management.

She wanted explanations.

Why had the work started an hour after she went to bed?

Why hadn't anyone called first?

Why had the contractor left the apartment completely open for hours?

Why hadn't anyone who could communicate with her come back?

Why had a one-hour installation turned into an all-night ordeal?

Why was there now a picket fence where her door used to be?

...and-

Most importantly-

When was she getting an actual door?

Sarah folded her arms.

Her eyes closed again.

She opened them.

Or...

Thought she did.

The hallway blurred.

The couch became warmer.

Her head slowly tilted sideways.

She jerked upright.

Looked toward the gate.

Still there.

No contractor.

No proper door.

Sarah's jaw tightened.

She was furious now.

Not shouting furious.

Not dramatic furious.

The worse kind.

The kind that sat quietly beneath exhaustion.

The kind that accumulated every time she looked at that ridiculous little gate.

She would deal with it.

She would call management.

She would make them explain every single part of this.

She would-

Her eyes closed.

This time...

They stayed closed.

Sarah slumped sideways against the couch cushion.

Her breathing slowed.

Her coffee remained unfinished on the table.

Across the room...

...the little white gate stood closed across the entrance.

Not a door.

Not really.

Just enough of one to say someone had done something.

Sarah slept.

Finally.

...but even sleep could not completely erase the frustration waiting for her when she woke up.

---

The Notice

"Again."

Joanna hit the ropes.

Turned.

Carly stepped forward.

Joanna ducked underneath the clothesline.

Pivoted.

Caught Carly around the waist.

Then-

"Too high!"

Joanna stopped.

Carly stopped.

Both slowly turned toward ringside.

Zas stood there.

Arms folded.

Watching.

Joanna stared.

"What?"

"Your grip."

Joanna looked down.

Then back at him.

"My grip?"

"Too high."

"It worked."

"It worked because Carly let you."

Carly raised one finger.

"I did."

Joanna glared at her.

"Whose side are you on?"

Carly smiled.

"The side that isn't getting yelled at."

Zas looked toward her.

"Your footing was wrong too."

Carly's smile disappeared.

"Oh."

Joanna pointed triumphantly.

"There."

Zas continued.

"When she turned, you planted too far forward."

Carly sighed.

"Wonderful."

Joanna smiled.

"Welcome back."

The Hercules Arena was mostly empty.

For now.

Rows upon rows of seats stretched upward into the enormous bowl.

Lighting rigs hung above the ring.

Crew members moved throughout the floor.

Production equipment sat in partially organized piles.

Combat Arts banners had already begun appearing around the building.

In a few days...

Thousands of people would fill those seats.

The Roman tour would begin.

Right now...

The arena belonged mostly to wrestlers.

Joanna and Carly had been training for nearly an hour.

Zas had been invited along for encouragement.

Support.

Company.

Nothing more.

That had lasted approximately four minutes.

Trainer mode had taken over.

Completely.

"Again."

Joanna sighed.

"Zas."

"Again."

"You're not our trainer."

"No."

"You're supposed to be watching."

"I am watching."

"Quietly."

Zas considered that.

"No."

Carly laughed.

Joanna pointed toward him.

"You see?"

Carly nodded.

"I see."

Zas pointed toward the centre of the ring.

"Again."

Both women groaned.

Then resumed.

...

Ten minutes later...

Joanna finally rolled beneath the bottom rope.

"I'm taking a break."

Zas nodded.

"Good."

She looked at him suspiciously.

"Really?"

"You are tired."

Joanna stared.

"That almost sounded compassionate."

"It was."

Carly dropped onto the mat.

"I'm staying here."

Joanna laughed.

She walked toward the nearby equipment table.

Grabbed her water bottle.

Then her phone.

The screen lit.

Several notifications.

Messages.

Emails.

One missed call.

Joanna stopped.

SARAH

She frowned.

Sarah rarely called her during the day without sending something first.

Joanna immediately called back.

The phone rang.

Once.

Twice.

Then-

"Hello?"

Sarah sounded exhausted.

Joanna's expression changed.

"Sarah?"

"Hi."

"Are you okay?"

A pause.

"Technically."

Joanna frowned.

"What does technically mean?"

Sarah laughed.

Weakly.

"It means I have a door."

Joanna blinked.

"What?"

Behind her...

Zas looked over.

Joanna held up one finger.

Sarah continued.

"I'm outside."

"Okay."

"Walking."

"Okay."

"With the kids."

"Okay."

"...and Fido."

"Okay."

Joanna waited.

Sarah sighed.

"I have had the worst two days I can remember having in a very long time."

Joanna sat down.

"Tell me."

Sarah did.

Everything.

The first night.

Going to bed.

The knock at ten.

The contractors.

The Felids.

The language barrier.

The door coming off.

The contractor suddenly stopping.

Then leaving.

Joanna's eyes widened.

"He left?"

"Yes."

"With no door?"

"Yes."

"Nothing there?"

"Wires."

Joanna stared.

"Wires?"

"Lots of wires."

Carly had rolled closer to the ropes.

She was listening now.

Zas was too.

Joanna mouthed-

No door.

Carly frowned.

Zas raised an eyebrow.

Sarah continued.

"So I stayed awake."

"Obviously."

"For hours."

"How many?"

"Until almost four."

Joanna winced.

"Sarah."

"At three forty-two he finally comes back."

"Okay."

"...with a fence."

Joanna stopped.

"A what?"

"A fence."

"What kind of fence?"

"A little white picket fence."

Carly's eyebrows rose.

Joanna stared at nothing.

"Why?"

"I DON'T KNOW."

Joanna pulled the phone slightly away from her ear.

Sarah immediately lowered her voice.

"Sorry."

"No, you're fine."

"I still don't know."

Sarah continued walking.

The stroller wheels rattled softly beneath the call.

"He put this little gate across the doorway."

"Covered the wires."

"Then left."

"Again?"

"Again."

Joanna closed her eyes.

"Did anyone explain anything?"

"No."

"Could he?"

"No."

"The only English-speaking contractor was gone."

"So you just..."

Joanna struggled.

"...had a fence?"

"A gate."

"Right."

"Very important distinction."

Joanna laughed despite herself.

Sarah did too.

Barely.

Then Sarah sighed.

"I stayed awake because I had no idea whether someone was coming back."

"No one did?"

"No."

"When did you sleep?"

"I fell asleep on the couch."

Joanna shook her head.

"...and Lars?"

"Sleeping."

That word carried something.

Joanna noticed.

She said nothing.

Sarah continued.

"He did promise he'd take care of Sophia and Peter in the morning."

Joanna brightened slightly.

"That's good."

"Yes."

A pause.

"In theory."

Joanna winced.

"What happened?"

Sarah laughed.

No humour whatsoever.

"I went to bed."

"Good."

"Then about an hour later..."

Sarah changed her voice.

A sleepy imitation of Lars.

"'Sarah?'"

Joanna immediately understood.

"Oh no."

"'Where are the bottles?'"

Joanna closed her eyes.

Sarah continued.

"Then I go back to sleep."

"Another hour."

"'Sarah?'"

Carly had started smiling.

Joanna covered her mouth.

"'What does Peter eat?'"

Joanna shook her head.

"Sarah..."

"Another hour."

"'Sarah?'"

"Another."

"'Sarah?'"

Sarah sighed.

"So my wonderful morning of sleeping in became sleeping for about forty-five minutes at a time."

Joanna frowned.

"Lars really couldn't figure any of that out?"

"He could."

Sarah sounded tired now.

"He just didn't know where things were."

"Or what I normally did."

"Or what order I did things in."

"Or..."

She sighed.

"...basically anything."

Joanna looked toward Zas.

He had stopped watching the ring.

He was listening carefully now.

Sarah continued.

"So every time he had a question..."

"He woke you."

"Yes."

"Did you tell him to stop?"

"No."

"Why?"

Sarah hesitated.

"I don't know."

That answer meant more than the words.

Joanna knew it.

She let it go.

For now.

Sarah continued.

"Then because I kept getting woken up, I kept sleeping later."

"How late?"

"Very."

"Sarah."

"Very, very."

Joanna laughed softly.

Sarah groaned.

"...and when I finally got up, Lars made a joke about how nice it must be to sleep all day."

Joanna stopped laughing.

"He said what?"

"It wasn't malicious."

"Sarah."

"It wasn't."

Sarah sounded defensive.

Almost automatically.

"He was joking."

"I know he was joking."

Joanna looked toward Zas again.

He was frowning now.

Sarah continued.

"He thinks things like that are funny."

"Did you tell him it wasn't funny?"

"No."

"Why?"

Another pause.

"I was tired."

Joanna nodded.

That made sense.

Too tired to argue.

Too tired to explain why something hurt.

Too tired to turn another irritating little moment into a serious conversation.

Sarah continued.

"Anyway..."

The word very obviously meant-

I don't want to talk about Lars anymore.

Joanna respected it.

"What happened with the door?"

"I called management."

"Lars didn't?"

"No."

Joanna closed her eyes.

Of course.

Sarah continued.

"They apologized."

"Good."

"They said something went wrong with the original installation."

"Apparently they couldn't finish it that night."

"Which would have been useful information."

"Very."

"They said the fence thing was temporary."

Joanna smiled.

"So you were right."

"Yes."

"...and the wires weren't live."

"Also useful information."

"Extremely."

Sarah sighed.

"They promised they'd install the proper door that night."

"...and did they?"

"Eventually."

Joanna waited.

"Two hours."

"Didn't they say one?"

"They always say one."

Joanna laughed.

Sarah laughed too.

This time there was a little life in it.

"...but..."

Sarah continued.

"...I have a door."

"An actual door?"

"An actual door."

"Not a fence?"

"Not a fence."

"Does it reach the ceiling?"

"Yes."

"Very advanced."

"I know."

Sarah smiled through her voice.

"Technology."

Joanna laughed.

"So now you're walking."

"I needed out."

"I don't blame you."

"I put Sophia and Peter in the stroller."

"Took Fido."

"...and I left."

"Where's Lars?"

"Home."

"Sleeping?"

Sarah paused.

"...I assume."

Joanna almost said something.

Didn't.

Instead-

"How do you feel?"

Sarah thought.

"Like I've been awake for three years."

"Good otherwise?"

"No."

Joanna smiled.

"Fair."

"...but..."

Sarah sighed.

"The sun is nice."

"Fresh air is nice."

"Nobody is drilling anything."

"Nobody is asking me where the bottles are."

Joanna laughed.

"That's a win."

"It is."

The sound of Sarah's footsteps continued.

For another few minutes...

They talked.

Nothing important.

The arena.

Roman food.

Carly shouted from inside the ring-

"Tell her I said hi!"

Joanna smiled.

"Carly says hi."

Sarah laughed.

"Hi, Carly."

Zas pointed toward himself.

Joanna raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

He pointed again.

Joanna smiled.

"Zas says hi."

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"I was asking if you told her I was here."

Joanna covered the phone.

"That's basically saying hi."

"It is not."

Sarah laughed.

"I heard him."

Zas sighed.

Joanna smiled triumphantly.

Then Sarah spoke again.

"I'm almost home."

"Okay."

A few seconds passed.

Joanna could hear traffic.

Stroller wheels.

Fido's collar.

Then-

Sarah stopped talking.

Joanna waited.

"Sarah?"

Nothing.

"Sarah?"

Sarah's voice returned.

Different.

Flat.

"Oh, no."

Joanna immediately sat straighter.

"What?"

Sarah didn't answer.

"Sarah?"

"I have a notice."

Joanna frowned.

"What kind of notice?"

"On my door."

Sarah moved closer.

Paper rustled.

Joanna waited.

"What does it say?"

Silence.

Then-

"No."

Joanna's stomach tightened.

"What?"

Sarah read.

"'Emergency access required.'"

Joanna frowned.

"Emergency?"

"'Contractors will require access to complete installation of new electronic doorway system.'"

Sarah stopped.

Joanna waited.

Then Sarah said quietly-

"I already have the new door."

Joanna stared.

Carly noticed the change.

So did Zas.

"What do you mean?"

"They installed it last night."

"I watched them install it."

"I used it when I left."

Sarah's frustration began building again.

"I have the fob."

"It unlocks."

"It opens."

"It closes."

"It's a door."

Joanna tried.

"Maybe it's just an old notice?"

Sarah looked at it.

"No."

"Maybe they put it up before you left."

"I would've seen it."

"Maybe they need to adjust something."

"Then why does it say install the new door?"

Joanna had no answer.

Sarah continued.

"...and management is closed."

Joanna winced.

"Oh."

"Yes."

Sarah read more.

"Tonight."

Joanna closed her eyes.

"Tonight?"

"Tonight."

Sarah laughed.

It sounded dangerous.

"I have another emergency door installation tonight."

Joanna searched desperately for something useful.

"Maybe it'll be quick."

Silence.

Joanna immediately regretted it.

Sarah finally spoke.

"They said that twice already."

"Right."

"Sorry."

"No."

Sarah sighed.

"I know you're trying."

Joanna softened.

"Maybe this one really is just something small."

Sarah said nothing.

"They might only need to fix the sensor."

Nothing.

"Or inspect it."

Nothing.

"Or maybe the notice is wrong."

Still nothing.

Joanna ran out of reassurance.

Sarah stared at the notice.

The stroller sat beside her.

Sophia and Peter remained inside.

Fido sniffed enthusiastically near the bottom of the door.

The beautiful...

Functional...

Apparently unfinished door.

Sarah closed her eyes.

"I can't do another night."

Joanna's expression softened.

"I know."

"I mean it."

"I know."

"I haven't slept."

"I know."

"I just wanted one normal night."

Joanna had nothing to fix that.

So she didn't try.

Sarah took a slow breath.

Then another.

"Okay."

Joanna waited.

Sarah folded the notice.

"Okay."

"You okay?"

"No."

Joanna smiled sadly.

"Fair."

Sarah unlocked the door.

The electronic lock clicked.

Perfectly.

Of course it did.

Sarah pushed it open.

"Look at that."

"What?"

"The door works."

Joanna laughed softly.

Sarah didn't.

Not yet.

She stepped inside.

Fido followed.

Then the stroller.

The door closed behind them.

Sarah stared at it.

A perfectly normal door.

A door that apparently constituted an emergency.

Her shoulders dropped.

"I should go."

"Sarah-"

"I'll call you tomorrow."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

Joanna hesitated.

"Call me tonight if you need to."

Sarah smiled faintly.

"I will."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Joanna nodded.

Sarah couldn't see it.

Didn't matter.

"Love you."

"Love you too."

The call ended.

Joanna slowly lowered the phone.

For several seconds...

She stared at the screen.

Then-

"Everything okay?"

Carly stood against the ropes.

Joanna looked toward her.

"Sarah has a door."

Carly frowned.

"That's good."

"Apparently it's an emergency."

Carly stared.

"...What?"

Joanna shook her head.

"I don't know."

Zas folded his arms.

"Is Sarah all right?"

Joanna looked toward him.

Then toward the phone.

"She's exhausted."

Zas nodded slowly.

Joanna stood.

Returned the phone to the table.

Then climbed onto the apron.

Carly moved aside.

Zas immediately pointed.

"Your left foot."

Joanna froze.

She stared at him.

"Zas."

"You're entering wrong."

Joanna closed her eyes.

Carly laughed.

Joanna looked toward Zas.

Then suddenly smiled.

After listening to Sarah's last two days...

This irritation felt wonderfully manageable.

She stepped through the ropes.

"Fine."

She repositioned her foot.

Zas nodded.

"Better."

Joanna rolled her eyes.

"Trainer."

"I am not your trainer."

Carly laughed.

Joanna looked at her.

"He absolutely is."

Zas pointed toward the centre.

"Again."

Both women sighed.

Then got back to work.

---

Back in Cleveland...

Sarah stood in front of her new door.

Notice in hand.

Children behind her.

Dog at her feet.

Management closed.

Another night approaching.

She stared at the word-

EMERGENCY

Then at the perfectly functioning lock.

Then back at the notice.

Her jaw tightened.

"Fine."

She placed the notice on the table.

Tonight...

She would deal with it.

Again.

Because apparently...

Having a door...

...and being finished with the door...

...were two completely different things.

Another Gate

Sarah lay in bed.

Eyes closed.

Wide awake.

She had tried everything.

Left side.

Right side.

Back.

Left again.

Pillow flipped.

Blanket on.

Blanket off.

Phone checked.

Phone deliberately placed face down so she would stop checking it.

Phone checked again.

Nothing worked.

Her body was exhausted.

Her mind had apparently decided exhaustion was irrelevant.

When are they coming?

Sarah squeezed her eyes tighter.

Don't.

Are they coming?

Yes.

Probably.

What are they doing to the door?

She didn't know.

Why did the notice call it an emergency?

She didn't know.

What was wrong with the door they had already installed?

She didn't know.

Are they removing it?

Maybe.

Are they fixing it?

Maybe.

How long will it take?

About an hour.

Sarah almost laughed.

That answer had lost all meaning.

She rolled onto her other side.

Beside her...

Lars slept.

Of course.

Sarah looked at him.

She immediately felt guilty for resenting that.

This wasn't Lars's fault.

He hadn't removed the first door.

He hadn't installed the little white gate.

He hadn't promised one hour and delivered an entire night.

He hadn't placed the new notice on the door.

Still...

There he was.

Sleeping.

Completely.

Sarah stared for a moment.

Then turned away.

She wanted that.

Not Lars specifically.

Sleep.

The ability to close her eyes and simply trust that whatever happened next would happen without her participation.

Sarah couldn't do that.

Someone would knock.

Someone would need access.

Someone would need her to move something.

Someone would need her to sign something.

Someone would remove the door.

Someone would install something.

Someone would leave.

Someone would forget to explain why.

Sarah's chest tightened.

The questions wouldn't stop.

Neither would everything else.

Lars.

The twins.

The house.

The last two days.

Her supposed morning of sleeping in.

Sarah, where are the bottles?

Her eyes opened.

No.

Don't think about Lars.

Not tonight.

Sarah, what does Peter eat?

Stop.

Then-

Must be nice sleeping all day.

Sarah's jaw tightened.

He had been joking.

She knew that.

Lars joked about everything.

Normally she liked that about him.

Normally.

She hadn't told him that one hurt.

She hadn't wanted another conversation.

Another explanation.

Another thing requiring energy she didn't have.

So she had smiled.

Or...

Something resembling a smile.

Then let it go.

Except apparently she hadn't.

Because here it was.

In bed.

Coming back.

Along with every other thing she hadn't dealt with.

Sarah closed her eyes again.

Sleep.

Please.

Just sleep.

She had even tried sex.

That normally helped.

Sometimes.

At least emotionally.

Tonight?

Nothing.

It hadn't been bad.

Lars had been affectionate.

Sarah had responded.

They had made love.

Then afterward...

She had lain beside him.

Waiting for the warmth.

The closeness.

That little feeling of-

I'm glad you're here.

It never came.

Not tonight.

Instead Lars had drifted off...

...and Sarah had stared at the ceiling.

The sex had not relaxed her.

It hadn't reassured her.

It hadn't even provided that simple happiness of being physically close to someone she loved.

It had just been...

Something they did.

Sarah hated admitting that.

Even to herself.

Because she loved Lars.

She knew she did.

Absolutely.

So why did she feel so-

No.

Door.

Think about the stupid door.

The door was easier.

...

Eventually...

Somehow...

Sleep came.

Not deeply.

Not peacefully.

...but enough.

Her thoughts blurred.

The questions faded.

Her breathing slowed.

Then-

KNOCK.

Sarah's eyes opened.

For one moment...

She didn't move.

Maybe she had imagined it.

Then-

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Sarah groaned.

She reached for her phone.

1:30 AM

She stared.

"Of course."

Beside her...

Lars moved slightly.

Then settled again.

Still asleep.

Sarah dragged herself out of bed.

Pulled on her robe.

Walked through the dark apartment.

Fido appeared.

Sarah immediately pointed.

"No."

Fido stopped.

Apparently even he understood tonight required caution.

Sarah reached the door.

The beautiful door.

The working door.

The door she had spent two nights acquiring.

She opened it.

The Felid stood outside.

The same one.

Sarah recognized him immediately.

Blue-looking hair beneath the hallway lights.

Whiskers.

Black catlike nose.

Tool bag.

No English.

Sarah's shoulders sank.

"Oh."

The Felid greeted her.

At least...

Sarah assumed it was a greeting.

She understood nothing.

Not one word.

She pointed toward the door.

"Door?"

The Felid nodded.

Right.

Of course.

Sarah stepped aside.

"Fine."

He entered.

Sarah closed her eyes.

She wasn't getting answers tonight.

She accepted that immediately.

Or...

Tried to.

Whatever the emergency was...

Let him fix it.

Let the door survive.

Let her go back to bed.

That was all she wanted.

...

The Felid began removing the door.

Sarah sat on the couch.

At first...

She reacted.

Her eyes widened.

Her mouth opened.

Then exhaustion won.

Of course he was removing it.

Why wouldn't he?

The electronic hardware came loose.

Parts of the frame followed.

Then-

The door itself.

Again.

Sarah watched through half-closed eyes.

The contractor worked.

Sarah drifted.

The sound of tools blurred together.

Metal.

Wood.

Drilling.

Scraping.

At some point...

She closed her eyes.

Opened them.

The door was leaning against the hallway wall.

Fine.

She closed them again.

Opened them.

The Felid was working on the wiring.

Fine.

Whatever.

Just finish.

Sarah sank deeper into the couch.

Her eyes closed.

She would wake when he was done.

Maybe.

Probably.

Hopefully.

...

Something scraped against the floor.

Sarah opened her eyes.

The Felid was carrying something toward the doorway.

For half a second...

Her sleepy mind didn't process it.

Then it did.

Sarah sat upright.

"No."

The Felid continued.

Sarah stood.

"No."

Not a door.

A gate.

Again.

Another gate.

This one was different.

Taller.

Stronger-looking.

Less decorative than the first.

Still-

A gate.

Wooden slats.

Simple frame.

Basic latch.

The sort of thing somebody might install at the entrance to a garden.

Sarah stared.

Then blinked.

Maybe she was still asleep.

No.

Definitely awake.

"Seriously?"

The Felid looked toward her.

Sarah pointed.

"Door?"

The contractor nodded.

Sarah stared.

"No."

She pointed toward the actual door leaning in the hallway.

"Door."

Then toward the wooden gate.

"Not door."

The Felid said something.

Sarah understood none of it.

"Why?"

More words.

Nothing.

Sarah rubbed both hands over her face.

"Of course."

The Felid began installing the new frame.

Sarah stood nearby.

Watching.

Barely comprehending.

This gate reached higher than the last one.

That was something.

Maybe chest height.

Perhaps even higher.

It was still completely open above.

Still something an adult could climb over.

Still something that belonged beside a garden path.

Sarah watched the Felid fasten it into place.

Then cover the exposed wiring again.

The exact purpose of the surrounding frame became obvious.

Same as before.

Protect the electronics.

Cover the wires.

Leave some kind of barrier across the doorway.

Temporary.

Surely.

Again.

Probably.

Maybe.

Sarah didn't know.

Of course she didn't know.

She tried anyway.

"Temporary?"

The Felid looked at her.

Sarah pointed at the gate.

"Temporary?"

He responded.

Nothing.

Sarah shook her head.

"Tomorrow?"

Nothing.

"Later?"

Nothing.

"New door?"

She pointed toward the removed door.

Then back toward the frame.

The contractor said something.

Sarah stared.

She wanted to scream.

Not at him.

She knew that.

He wasn't being rude.

He wasn't refusing to answer.

He simply couldn't.

...but understanding that did absolutely nothing to make the situation easier.

Sarah tried one final time.

"Are you coming back?"

Nothing.

"Someone else?"

Nothing.

"Tonight?"

Nothing.

The Felid finished securing the gate.

Checked the wiring cover.

Tested the latch.

Looked satisfied.

Sarah looked at it.

She did not.

The worker gathered his tools.

Sarah watched.

No questions this time.

Why bother?

He zipped the bag.

Lifted it.

Then nodded politely toward Sarah.

Sarah stared.

"...Goodnight."

The Felid replied in his own language.

Then walked away.

Sarah remained standing there.

Watching him leave.

His footsteps faded.

The tools stopped rattling.

He turned the corner.

Gone.

Sarah waited.

A few seconds.

Then longer.

No return.

No English-speaking supervisor.

No manager.

No explanation.

Nothing.

Just Sarah.

Her apartment.

Her sleeping family.

...and another garden gate.

She slowly looked toward it.

The new gate stood where the functional electronic door had stood approximately an hour ago.

Sarah approached.

Touched it.

Opened the latch.

Closed it.

Then stared upward at the enormous open space above it.

"How..."

Her voice cracked.

She stopped.

Tried again.

"How is this adequate?"

No one answered.

Of course.

She looked toward the hallway.

The proper door was gone.

Taken away.

The gate remained.

Sarah had no idea whether another contractor was coming tonight.

No idea whether this was supposed to remain until morning.

No idea whether another proper door was being built.

No idea what was wrong with the perfectly functional one they had just removed.

No idea why any of this had been classified as an emergency.

No idea when management would open.

No idea what she was supposed to do.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Sarah's jaw tightened.

She could feel the rage.

Everything in her wanted to explode.

Scream.

Kick something.

Throw something.

Wake Lars.

Call someone.

Demand answers from whoever answered first.

Instead...

Her vision blurred.

Sarah blinked.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

"No."

She wiped it away.

Another followed.

Then another.

Sarah's face crumpled.

"Oh, come on..."

She covered her eyes.

The sob escaped anyway.

She hated this.

It was a door.

A stupid door.

Why was she crying over a door?

Except-

She wasn't.

Not really.

The door was simply the only thing in front of her.

The last thing.

The newest thing.

The thing that finally found the exact spot where Sarah had nothing left.

She sat down on the couch.

Another sob.

Then another.

Her shoulders shook.

She tried keeping quiet.

Sophia.

Peter.

Lars.

She didn't want to wake anybody.

She couldn't stop.

Two nights without proper sleep.

Hours of waiting.

Contractors coming whenever they came.

Doors disappearing.

Gates appearing.

Questions without answers.

Being promised rest and then being awakened every hour.

Making the management call herself.

Getting the door.

Losing the door.

The notice.

The anxiety.

The sex that hadn't made her feel better.

Lars's stupid joke about sleeping all day.

Everything.

It all arrived at once.

Sarah buried her face in her hands.

And cried.

...

Lars woke to the sound.

Not immediately.

At first he rolled over.

Then frowned.

Listened.

Sarah.

He opened his eyes.

The room beside him was empty.

"Sarah?"

No answer.

He sat up.

Listened again.

Crying.

Lars climbed out of bed.

Walked toward the living room.

Still half asleep.

He stopped when he saw the entrance.

A gate.

Again.

His eyebrows rose.

Then he saw Sarah.

Curled forward on the couch.

Crying into her hands.

Lars rubbed his eyes.

Walked over.

Sat beside her.

"Hey."

Sarah didn't answer.

He put an arm around her.

Not tightly.

Not with much energy.

A sleepy, automatic embrace.

Sarah leaned slightly against him anyway.

Lars kissed the side of her head.

"It's okay."

Sarah sniffled.

Lars looked toward the gate again.

Then toward her.

He was exhausted.

Barely awake.

...and, as he so often did when something felt uncomfortable...

He tried to make it funny.

A crude little joke left his mouth.

“…Well,” Lars mumbled, still half-asleep, “at least we’re getting good at this. If they come back a third time, we can probably just start charging admission. ‘Welcome to the Door Museum- please don’t touch the exhibit.’”

Sarah went completely still.

The crying stopped.

Lars smiled faintly...

...until Sarah slowly lifted her head.

...and looked at him.

Sarah went completely still.

The crying stopped.

Lars smiled faintly...

...until Sarah slowly lifted her head.

...and looked at him.

Sarah stared at him.

Lars' smile disappeared.

Completely.

For several seconds...

Neither spoke.

The new garden gate stood behind them.

The apartment was quiet.

Sophia and Peter were still asleep.

Fido had retreated somewhere down the hallway.

Sarah wiped the last tears from her face.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Lars frowned.

"What?"

Sarah laughed.

Just once.

A tiny...

Disbelieving...

Hollow sound.

"What?"

Lars repeated.

"You really don't know?"

"Know what?"

Sarah stared.

That was it.

Something inside her broke.

Not cracked.

Not bent.

Broke.

"You think this is funny?"

Lars blinked.

"The door?"

"No."

Sarah pointed at him.

"You."

"Me?"

"You think everything is funny."

"I was trying to make you laugh."

"I'M CRYING!"

Lars recoiled.

Sarah caught herself.

The twins.

She lowered her voice.

Barely.

"I am sitting here crying at two in the morning..."

Her voice trembled.

"...and your first instinct is to make a joke."

"I was trying to cheer you up."

"By making a joke."

"Yes."

"Because, by Jove, you actually ask me what's wrong."

Lars frowned.

"I know what's wrong."

Sarah stared.

"It's the door."

Silence.

Lars gestured toward the gate.

"You've been dealing with this stupid door thing for two days."

"You're exhausted."

"You're pissed off."

"Now they put another fence in the doorway."

He spread his hands.

"I get it."

Sarah's eyes widened.

"No."

"What?"

"You don't get it."

"Sarah-"

"You don't get anything."

Lars's expression hardened.

"I literally just explained what's wrong."

"No."

"You explained the door."

"Because that's what you're upset about!"

"I am upset about the door!"

"Exactly!"

"…AND I'M UPSET ABOUT YOU!"

That stopped him.

Sarah breathed hard.

Lars stared.

"...Me?"

"Yes."

"What did I do?"

Sarah laughed again.

This one hurt.

"What did you do?"

"Yes."

"You really want the list?"

Lars' jaw tightened.

"Apparently."

Sarah stood.

"Fine."

She started counting.

"You come home from tours..."

"...and you sit on the couch."

Lars immediately shook his head.

"Oh, come on."

"You sit on the couch."

"I'm wrestling."

"I'm sore."

"You are always sore."

"Because people throw me onto the ground for a living!"

"I KNOW WHAT WRESTLING IS, LARS!"

He stopped.

Sarah continued.

"I did it too!"

"I know."

"Do you?"

"Yes!"

"Because sometimes you act like you're the first person in history to come home from a wrestling match with a bad shoulder."

Lars scoffed.

"So now I'm not allowed to hurt?"

"I didn't say that."

"That's exactly what you just said."

"No."

"You said I use being sore as an excuse."

"Because you DO."

Lars stared.

Sarah continued.

"You come home."

"You put ice on something."

"You lie on the couch."

"You watch television."

"You call me from another room because you're hungry."

"I do that as a joke."

"I KNOW."

Sarah almost screamed it.

"I know it's a joke!"

"Then why are you acting like I ring a servant bell?"

"Because I still end up making the food!"

"Not every time."

"Most of the time."

"That's bulls***."

Sarah froze.

"Excuse me?"

"I can feed myself."

"Then why don't you?"

"I do."

"When?"

Lars threw his hands up.

"I don't keep records!"

"Maybe you should!"

There it was.

The first score.

Sarah immediately began keeping it.

"You know how many times I've cooked this week?"

"No."

"Of course you don't."

"Because normal people don't count!"

"I do now!"

"Apparently!"

Sarah stepped closer.

"Do you know how many times you've changed Peter this week?"

Lars frowned.

"Oh, by Jove."

"Do you?"

"No."

"I do."

"Congratulations."

"Twice."

Lars rolled his eyes.

"Here we go."

"TWICE."

"Sarah, I'm not home all day!"

"You've been home!"

"I work!"

"So do I!"

"You're not wrestling anymore."

The words landed badly.

Lars knew it immediately.

Sarah's face changed.

He tried to recover.

"That's not what I meant."

"No."

Sarah nodded slowly.

"Go ahead."

"Sarah-"

"No, say it."

"I didn't mean-"

"I'm not wrestling anymore."

"I meant I'm working on the road."

"…and I'm home."

"Yes."

"Doing nothing."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

Sarah's eyes filled again.

"I raise your children."

"Our children."

"Then ACT LIKE IT!"

Lars's expression hardened.

"I do."

Sarah stared.

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Yesterday you promised me I could sleep."

"I watched them!"

"You woke me up almost every hour!"

"Because I needed help!"

"WITH YOUR OWN CHILDREN!"

"I don't know your routine!"

Sarah blinked.

"My routine."

"You know what I mean."

"No."

She shook her head.

"No, actually."

"Explain that."

Lars sighed.

"You have a way you do things."

"So?"

"The bottles are in certain places."

"The clothes are organized a certain way."

"You know what Sophia wants when she makes different noises."

"You know Peter's schedule."

"I don't know all of that."

Sarah stared.

Then laughed.

"Do you hear yourself?"

"What?"

"Those aren't my little hobbies."

"I didn't say they were."

"That's parenting!"

"I know."

"Then why don't you know?"

"Because you're with them more!"

"…and WHY AM I WITH THEM MORE?"

"Because I'm touring!"

"Exactly!"

Lars stopped.

Sarah pointed at him.

"You're gone."

"I'm here."

"You're gone."

"I'M WORKING."

"…and I'm here doing everything!"

"That's not my fault!"

"No?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Quit?"

Sarah hesitated.

Just enough.

Lars saw it.

His face hardened.

"Oh."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

"No."

"Go ahead."

He laughed bitterly.

"That's where this is going, isn't it?"

"You want me to stop wrestling."

"I never said that."

"You resent the tours."

"I resent being alone."

"Same thing."

"No, it isn't!"

Lars shook his head.

"You're changing the argument."

Sarah stared.

"I'm changing it?"

"First it was the door."

"Then it was chores."

"Then the kids."

"Now my career."

"It's EVERYTHING!"

"Exactly!"

He pointed at her.

"You're pissed off about the door and now suddenly our entire marriage is terrible."

"I never said our entire marriage is terrible."

"You basically did."

"No."

"You just gave me a f***ing performance review."

Sarah's eyes narrowed.

"Maybe you needed one."

Lars laughed.

"Unbelievable."

"No."

Sarah shook her head.

"What's unbelievable is that you genuinely don't know how unhappy I've been."

That stopped him.

For a moment...

Neither spoke.

Then Lars frowned.

"Unhappy?"

"Yes."

"Since when?"

Sarah stared.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"You've never said any of this."

"I shouldn't have to explain everything!"

"YES, YOU SHOULD!"

Sarah recoiled.

Lars continued.

"If you're unhappy, tell me!"

"Don't sit there for six months saying you're fine and then explode at two in the morning because somebody installed a fence!"

"I DID tell you!"

"When?"

"All the time!"

"No, you don't!"

"I say I'm tired!"

"Everybody's tired!"

"I say I need help!"

"…and I help!"

"When?"

"Here we go again."

"WHEN?"

"I don't know!"

"Exactly!"

Lars rubbed his forehead.

"This is insane."

Sarah froze.

"What?"

"This."

He gestured between them.

"You're exhausted."

"You haven't slept."

"You're pissed off at management."

"…and now you're acting like I'm some horrible husband."

Sarah stared.

"You don't get to do that."

"Do what?"

"Tell me my feelings aren't real because I'm tired."

"I didn't say they're not real."

"You just said this is because of the door."

"Because it IS!"

"No!"

"If the door hadn't happened, would we be having this fight?"

Sarah stopped.

The truthful answer hurt.

"...Probably not tonight."

Lars spread his hands.

"THANK YOU."

"…but we'd still have the problems!"

"According to you."

Sarah stared.

"According to me?"

"You've apparently decided everything I do is wrong."

"No."

"Yes."

"You don't help."

"I help."

"Not enough."

"So now there's a quota?"

Sarah laughed.

"By Jove..."

"What?"

"You always do this."

"Do what?"

"You grab one stupid little part of what I'm saying..."

"...and argue that instead."

"Because you're saying ten things at once!"

"Because there are ten things!"

"Then maybe bring them up one at a time!"

"When?"

Lars stared.

"What?"

"When would you like me to schedule my complaints?"

"Sarah-"

"Before or after I cook?"

"Stop."

"Before or after I clean?"

"Stop."

"Before or after I put the twins down?"

"STOP."

"Before or after you call me because you're hungry?"

Lars' face reddened.

"F*** you."

Silence.

Both froze.

It had arrived.

The first thing neither should have said.

Sarah stared.

Lars looked away.

He knew.

Sarah's lower lip trembled.

Then anger rescued her.

"No."

She nodded.

"F*** you."

Lars looked back.

There.

Now they had both done it.

No taking the high ground anymore.

No restraint.

The fight belonged to both of them.

Lars folded his arms.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I'm tired of you acting like you do everything."

"I DO everything."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"You don't pay for everything."

Sarah blinked.

There it was.

Money.

Another weapon.

"I never said I did."

"My wrestling pays for this place."

"Our money pays for this place."

"I earn most of it."

Sarah's face changed.

Lars immediately knew he had stepped somewhere dangerous.

He continued anyway.

Because stopping would mean losing.

"…and before you twist that..."

"I'm not saying you don't work."

"You just did."

"No, I didn't."

"You said you earn the money."

"I said I earn most of it."

"Thank you for the clarification."

"That's reality."

"So because you make more money..."

"I didn't say that."

"...I should do everything else."

"I DIDN'T SAY THAT."

"You keep telling me what you didn't say!"

"Because you keep putting words in my mouth!"

Sarah laughed.

"…and you keep pretending everything is fine!"

"I don't pretend anything!"

"Yes, you do!"

"What do I pretend?"

"That you're involved!"

Lars' expression changed.

That one hurt.

Sarah saw it.

She pushed anyway.

"You come home and play with Sophia for twenty minutes..."

"...and you think that makes you Father of the Year."

"F*** you."

"You already used that one."

"I love my children."

"I didn't say you don't."

"You just did!"

"No."

"You said I'm not involved."

"You're not involved ENOUGH."

"That's not what you said."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Sarah threw her hands up.

"Would you like the transcript?"

Lars stared.

"You're being a b****."

Sarah went still.

Another line crossed.

Lars' expression flickered.

Regret.

Briefly.

Then Sarah smiled.

Cold.

"…and you're being a lousy father."

His regret disappeared.

"F*** you."

"Again?"

"At least I actually work."

Sarah's mouth fell open.

Lars knew.

Immediately.

…but there was no stopping anymore.

"No."

Sarah nodded.

"No, keep going."

"I didn't mean-"

"KEEP GOING."

"I meant-"

"You mean I don't work because I stay home."

"I didn't say-"

"You mean raising Sophia and Peter isn't work."

"No."

"You mean cooking isn't work."

"Sarah-"

"Cleaning isn't work."

"Stop twisting everything!"

"Taking care of YOU isn't work."

"I DON'T ASK YOU TO TAKE CARE OF ME!"

Sarah laughed so loudly she had to cover her mouth.

She looked toward the bedrooms.

No crying.

Thank goodness.

Then back at Lars.

"You don't ask?"

"No."

"You just yell 'Sarah, I'm hungry' from the couch."

"It's a joke!"

"…and what happens after the joke?"

Lars said nothing.

Sarah nodded.

"Right."

"Sometimes you make me food."

"Because if I don't..."

"What?"

Sarah stared.

Lars waited.

"Say it."

"What happens if you don't make me food?"

Sarah opened her mouth.

Nothing came.

Because the truth was...

Probably nothing.

Lars would eventually get up.

Probably.

That realization only made Sarah angrier.

"You know what?"

Lars nodded sarcastically.

"Here it comes."

"I shouldn't HAVE to see what happens."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means I shouldn't have to choose between doing it myself or waiting to see how long it takes you to behave like an adult!"

Lars laughed.

"Oh, so now I'm not an adult."

"Sometimes?"

Sarah shook her head.

"No."

"You aren't."

"Right."

"You act like another kid."

"Then why did you marry me?"

Silence.

The question hit harder than Lars intended.

Sarah stared.

He stared back.

Neither retreated.

Finally Sarah said-

"Sometimes I don't know."

Lars' face fell.

There.

That one mattered.

Sarah instantly regretted it.

…but she'd said it.

Lars nodded slowly.

"Okay."

"That's not-"

"No."

He held up his hand.

"That's good."

"Lars-"

"No, that's good to know."

"I didn't mean it like-"

"You literally said you don't know why you married me."

"I said sometimes."

"Oh, much better."

Sarah rubbed her eyes.

"I meant sometimes I don't know who we are anymore."

"That's not what you said."

"I KNOW."

"Funny."

Lars smiled bitterly.

"Now suddenly intent matters."

Sarah stared.

"What?"

"You've spent twenty minutes telling me that every joke I make counts even when I don't mean anything by it."

"That's different."

"Why?"

"Because-"

"Exactly."

Sarah shook her head.

"No."

"Yes."

"No, because your jokes keep hurting me."

"…and you saying you don't know why you married me doesn't hurt?"

"I said it because I'm angry!"

"So do I!"

There it was.

For the first time...

They were both right.

Neither noticed.

Neither cared.

Sarah crossed her arms.

"You always have an excuse."

"…and you always have a reason why your feelings matter more."

"I never said that."

"You don't have to."

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Stop telling me what I think."

"You've been doing that to me all night!"

"Because you won't LISTEN."

"I AM LISTENING!"

"No, you're waiting for your turn!"

"So are you!"

Sarah stopped.

Again...

True.

Again...

Useless.

The fight continued.

"You know what I hear every time you talk?"

Lars asked.

Sarah glared.

"What?"

"How amazing Sarah is."

Sarah's eyes widened.

"Excuse me?"

"You do everything."

"You sacrifice everything."

"You raise the kids."

"You run the house."

"You gave up wrestling."

"You're perfect."

"I NEVER SAID I'M PERFECT."

"That's what this whole speech is!"

"No!"

"Poor Sarah."

Lars gestured dramatically.

"Nobody appreciates Sarah."

"Nobody helps Sarah."

"Sarah does everything."

"Meanwhile Lars is apparently some useless idiot who sits on the couch drooling until Sarah feeds him."

Sarah stared.

"Do you hear yourself?"

"Do you?"

Sarah's eyes filled again.

"You think I'm doing this for attention?"

"I think you like being the martyr sometimes."

That one landed.

Deep.

Sarah looked like he'd slapped her.

Lars saw it.

For half a second...

He almost stopped.

Then Sarah fired back.

"…and I think you like being helpless."

Lars' jaw tightened.

"Helpless?"

"Yes."

"Because then someone else always has to save you."

"From what?"

"Life!"

Sarah pointed toward the bedrooms.

"Your kids."

"The house."

"Food."

"Appointments."

"Everything."

"You know what's funny?"

"What?"

"You complain that I don't know the kids' routine..."

"...but every time I try something different, you tell me I'm doing it wrong."

Sarah stared.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do."

"No."

"You do."

"Give me one example."

"When Sophia was sick last month."

Sarah frowned.

"I told you not to give her that-"

"EXACTLY."

"Because it upset her stomach!"

"…and how was I supposed to learn?"

"By knowing your daughter!"

"You knew because you tried it before!"

Sarah stopped.

Lars pointed.

"You got to make mistakes."

"I don't."

"That's bulls***."

"No."

"Any time I do something differently..."

"...you take over."

"Because half the time you're doing something stupid!"

"…and then you wonder why I ask you!"

Sarah opened her mouth.

Stopped.

Lars saw an opening.

He pushed.

"You want me to do everything exactly how you do it..."

"...without ever asking how you do it."

"No."

"That's impossible."

"I'm asking you to LEARN."

"When?"

"WHEN YOU'RE HOME."

"I'm exhausted when I'm home!"

"…and I'm exhausted ALL THE TIME!"

"So yours counts more!"

"Because I don't get to leave!"

Silence.

That sentence hung there.

Lars frowned.

"What does that mean?"

Sarah stared at him.

"You get to go."

"Work."

"Tour."

"Hotels."

"Restaurants."

"Adults."

"Conversations."

Lars laughed in disbelief.

"You think touring is a vacation?"

"I didn't say that."

"You just listed hotels and restaurants like I'm on f***ing holiday."

"I know it's work."

"Do you?"

"Yes!"

"I get slammed onto my back four nights a week."

"I travel all night."

"I sleep in airports."

"I wake up hurt."

"I miss the kids."

"I miss you."

Sarah's face twisted.

"Then why don't you act like it when you're here?"

Lars stared.

Sarah continued.

"You say you miss us."

"Then you come home..."

"...and disappear into the couch."

"Because I'm tired!"

"So am I!"

"We're back here again!"

"BECAUSE NOTHING CHANGES!"

Lars threw his hands in the air.

"So what do you want from me?"

"I WANT A HUSBAND!"

Silence.

Lars froze.

Sarah did too.

She hadn't planned that sentence.

It came from somewhere far beneath everything else.

Lars stared.

"You have one."

Sarah shook her head.

"Sometimes I feel like I don't."

His face hardened.

"Then maybe you don't want one."

Sarah flinched.

"What?"

"Maybe that's the real problem."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've changed."

Sarah stared.

"Of course I've changed."

"No."

Lars shook his head.

"You used to laugh."

Sarah almost couldn't believe it.

"I still laugh."

"Not with me."

"Maybe because I'm exhausted!"

"Everything comes back to that."

"Because I AM."

"You used to be fun."

Sarah went silent.

Lars heard himself.

Too late.

Sarah's voice became very small.

"Fun."

"That's not what I meant."

"No."

"Sarah-"

"I'm not fun anymore."

"I meant-"

"Because I had children?"

"No!"

"Because I'm tired?"

"No."

"Because I don't want to laugh every time you yell that you're hungry?"

"Stop."

"Because I don't want sex every time you do?"

"I never said-"

"Because sometimes I want you to ask how I am instead of making another f***ing joke?"

"I SAID STOP."

Sarah did.

Silence.

Lars breathed heavily.

Sarah stared at him.

Then-

"Sometimes men ask me out."

Lars froze.

The sentence arrived from nowhere.

Or...

Not nowhere.

Sarah had thought it before.

Many times.

She'd never said it.

Not to him.

Lars stared.

"What?"

Sarah instantly knew she'd made a mistake.

Still...

She continued.

"Men ask me out."

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Who?"

"I say no."

"WHO?"

Sarah shook her head.

"That's not the point."

"Then what is?"

"The point is I always say no because I'm married."

Lars stared at her.

"Do you want a medal?"

Sarah flinched.

"No."

"Congratulations, Sarah."

"I'm not cheating on you."

"I NEVER SAID I WAS!"

"Then why bring it up?"

"Because sometimes..."

She stopped.

Don't.

Too late.

"Sometimes what?"

Sarah looked at him.

Her anger answered for her.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'd be happier if I said yes."

Silence.

Absolute.

Lars stared.

Sarah's anger evaporated instantly.

"Lars-"

"No."

"I don't mean-"

"No."

"I have never-"

"I heard you."

"I've never cheated on you."

"I know."

"I don't want to."

"Great."

"Lars."

"That's fantastic."

"Stop."

"No, really."

He laughed.

"Good to know I'm competing with imaginary dates now."

"I'm not saying that."

"You literally just told me you're thinking about other men."

"I said sometimes I wonder-"

"Same thing."

"No, it isn't!"

"Would you accept that answer from me?"

Sarah stopped.

"What?"

"If I said women hit on me on tour..."

"...and sometimes I wonder if I'd be happier f***ing one of them..."

"...would you be okay with that?"

"That's not what I said!"

"It's exactly what you said!"

"I didn't say anything about sex!"

"Oh, sorry."

Lars nodded.

"Romantic dinners."

"Much better."

Sarah covered her face.

"This is why I don't tell you anything."

Lars stared.

"What?"

"Because you do this."

"Do WHAT?"

"You take the worst possible version of what I say..."

"...and then punish me with it."

"YOU JUST SAID YOU MIGHT BE HAPPIER WITH SOMEONE ELSE!"

"I said I WONDER."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

Sarah shook her head.

"No."

"No, it isn't."

She looked at him.

"I'm trying to tell you how lonely I feel."

"By telling me other men want you."

"Because I don't feel wanted HERE!"

Lars stared.

"I tell you you're beautiful all the time."

"That's not the same thing!"

"We had sex tonight!"

"THAT ISN'T THE SAME THING!"

Silence again.

Sarah's voice cracked.

"By Jove."

She wiped her eyes.

"You really don't understand."

"Apparently not."

"I don't want somebody to just want my body."

Lars flinched.

"I want somebody to want to know me."

"I know you."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Then tell me."

"What?"

"Tell me what I miss."

Lars stared.

"What?"

"What do I miss?"

"Sarah-"

"What do I miss about my old life?"

He hesitated.

Wrestling.

He knew.

Probably.

Sarah saw the hesitation.

Her face fell.

"Exactly."

"That's not fair."

"I've told you."

"I know you miss wrestling."

"Then why did you have to think?"

"Because you're quizzing me in the middle of a fight!"

Sarah laughed bitterly.

"There it is."

"F*** this."

Lars turned away.

"No."

Sarah followed.

"No, don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Walk away."

"I'm not walking away."

"You just turned away."

"Because I'm trying not to say something worse."

"Maybe you should've tried that twenty minutes ago."

Lars spun back.

"Oh, and you've been perfect?"

"No!"

"You told me I'm a lousy father."

"You told me I don't work!"

"You called me stupid."

"I haven't yet."

Lars stopped.

Sarah stopped.

For one bizarre second...

They both realized what she'd said.

Then Lars laughed.

There was no humour in it.

"Give it time."

Sarah looked away.

The fight had become absurd.

Cruel.

Self-propelling.

Neither even knew anymore what they were trying to accomplish.

Apology?

Change?

Understanding?

No.

Victory.

That was all.

Who hurt more.

Who did more.

Who sacrificed more.

Who started it.

Who deserved to be angry.

Who was worse.

Who was right.

They were keeping score now.

Every mistake became evidence.

Every old argument became ammunition.

Every kindness disappeared because kindness didn't help anybody win.

Sarah brought up Sven.

"You drop everything whenever Sven has another crisis."

"He's my best friend."

"…and I'm your wife!"

"You're not having a crisis every week!"

"No."

Sarah laughed.

"I just handle mine myself."

Lars brought up Joanna.

"You answer Joanna at any hour."

"She's basically my sister."

"Exactly!"

"What?"

"You complain about me helping Sven..."

"...but Joanna calls and suddenly nothing else matters."

"Joanna doesn't ask me to abandon my family!"

"I don't abandon my family!"

"You've extended tours because Sven got dumped!"

"Once!"

"Three times!"

"Twice!"

"Thank you!"

Lars stopped.

Score.

Again.

He countered.

"You disappeared for half a day when Joanna had that breakdown after Buffalo."

"She needed me."

"So did Sven."

"Joanna didn't have fifteen girlfriends this year!"

"There it is."

"What?"

"You hate Sven."

"I don't hate Sven."

"You've always hated Sven."

"No, I haven't."

"You complain every time I see him."

"Because every time you see him, I get stuck with everything!"

"That's not true."

"It IS."

"No."

"Stop saying no like that changes reality!"

"Stop acting like your version of everything is reality!"

Sarah stared.

"What does that mean?"

"It means you exaggerate."

Her face hardened.

"I exaggerate."

"Yes."

"About what?"

"Everything."

"The kids?"

"No."

"The house?"

"I didn't say-"

"My exhaustion?"

"Sarah-"

"The door?"

"THE F***ING DOOR IS REAL."

"Thank you."

"…but you're acting like you've survived a war!"

Sarah went silent.

Lars realized immediately that he'd gone too far.

Again.

Sarah nodded slowly.

"Right."

"I didn't mean-"

"No."

"You know what?"

She laughed.

"You're right."

"Sarah."

"I'm overdramatic."

"I didn't say-"

"No."

"I cry too much."

"Stop."

"I complain too much."

"That's not-"

"I'm just exhausted."

"Sarah."

"It's just the door."

"Stop."

"It's just parenting."

"Sarah!"

"It's just my marriage."

Lars finally snapped.

"Do you want an award for your overdramatic emotions?"

Silence.

There it was.

Everything stopped.

Sarah stared.

Lars stared back.

Immediately...

Some part of him knew.

…but he was too angry to retreat.

Sarah's voice became quiet.

Very quiet.

"You don't get to do that anymore."

Lars frowned.

"Do what?"

"Make jokes that undermine me."

"That wasn't a joke."

"Even worse."

Sarah stepped toward him.

"You don't get to make me feel stupid for being upset."

"I don't make you feel anything."

Sarah laughed.

"Nice."

"What?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

"No."

Lars shook his head.

"I'm tired of this."

"Good."

"No."

He pointed toward her.

"I'm tired of you making me look stupid."

Sarah froze.

"What?"

"You do."

"To who?"

"Everyone."

"What are you talking about?"

"Joanna."

Sarah stared.

"You tell Joanna everything."

"She's my best friend."

"So she thinks I'm useless."

"I never said-"

"You don't have to!"

"…and now Azamat."

Sarah froze.

Lars saw it.

He had found something.

He pushed.

"Yeah."

"Azamat."

"What about him?"

"You talk to him."

"So?"

"You tell him things."

Sarah's face hardened.

"He listens."

Lars laughed.

"Oh, of course."

"Don't."

"Big strong mountain man listens."

"Don't you f***ing dare."

"…and I'm the idiot husband."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

"Stop."

"Does he know how terrible I am too?"

"Lars."

"Does he tell you what a wonderful woman you are?"

"STOP."

"Maybe that's why you're suddenly wondering what it'd be like to say yes when men ask you out."

Sarah's eyes widened.

"That is NOT fair."

"Neither is this!"

"He is my friend!"

"Sure."

Sarah stared.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"That."

"Sure."

"That little f***ing tone."

"What tone?"

"Like I'm lying."

"Are you?"

"No!"

"Then why are you so defensive?"

Sarah laughed in disbelief.

"You accuse me of wanting another man..."

"...and then ask why I'm defensive?"

"I didn't accuse you."

"You implied it."

"Oh."

Lars smiled bitterly.

"Now implications count?"

Sarah's hands clenched.

"You're an a**hole."

"You're impossible."

"At least I care."

"I care!"

"Then show it!"

"I DO!"

"No, Lars!"

Sarah shook her head.

"You know what?"

"You say I make you look stupid?"

"Yes."

"I don't have to make you look stupid."

Lars stared.

Sarah's anger took control.

"You already are stupid."

Silence.

The sentence landed differently.

Not another jab.

Not another accusation.

Something final.

Lars looked at her.

Sarah immediately wished she could pull it back.

His expression changed.

Not rage.

Not sadness.

Something colder.

Enough.

He nodded.

Once.

"Okay."

Sarah's anger disappeared.

"Lars."

He walked toward the coat rack.

Sarah followed.

"Lars."

He grabbed his jacket.

Put it on.

"What are you doing?"

No answer.

He reached for his wallet.

Sarah's stomach dropped.

"Lars."

Nothing.

"Wait."

He slipped the wallet into his pocket.

Sarah moved between him and the entrance.

"No."

Lars stared at her.

"Move."

"No."

"Sarah."

"Don't go."

He said nothing.

Sarah's eyes filled again.

"I'm sorry."

Nothing.

"I shouldn't have said that."

Lars looked toward the gate.

Sarah remained in front of it.

"I didn't mean it."

"You did."

"No."

"You did tonight."

"I was angry."

"So was I."

"I know."

Sarah's voice broke.

"I know."

She reached for him.

Lars stepped back.

That hurt more than anything he'd said.

Sarah's hand remained suspended between them.

"Please."

Lars looked away.

"Don't."

"Please don't leave."

"I need to go."

"Where?"

"I don't know."

"When are you coming back?"

"I don't know."

Those words.

Again.

Sarah almost laughed at the cruelty of them.

"I don't know."

The sentence that had haunted the entire week.

Now coming from her husband.

"Lars..."

He moved toward the entrance.

Sarah moved with him.

"I'm sorry."

He opened the garden gate.

Sarah caught his sleeve.

"Please."

Lars stopped.

For one moment...

Hope surged through her.

He looked down at her hand.

Sarah released him.

Slowly.

"I'm sorry."

Lars said nothing.

Sarah's breathing became uneven.

"I love you."

Nothing.

The words terrified her as soon as she said them.

Because she didn't know why she'd said them.

Was it true?

Yes.

She thought so.

She believed so.

She had loved him for years.

The axe-throwing range.

The burgers.

The Academy.

Their wedding.

Sophia.

Peter.

All of it.

…but another thought appeared.

Ugly.

Practical.

Terrifying.

I can't afford this place alone.

Sarah hated herself for thinking it.

Was that why she wanted him to stay?

No.

Surely not.

Maybe.

Both?

She didn't know.

That frightened her more.

"Lars..."

He stepped through the gate.

Not door.

Gate.

The absurd temporary barrier that had somehow become the entrance to the worst fight of their marriage.

Sarah followed one step.

Stopped.

She couldn't leave the children.

Of course.

Even now...

Someone had to stay.

Lars walked down the hallway.

"Please."

He didn't turn.

"Lars."

Nothing.

"I'm sorry."

His footsteps continued.

"Lars!"

Still nothing.

Then he turned the corner.

Gone.

Sarah stood behind the garden gate.

Staring at the empty hallway.

Waiting.

Maybe he'd come back.

Maybe he'd turn around.

Maybe he'd realize he forgot something.

Maybe-

Nothing.

Sarah slowly closed the gate.

The latch clicked.

A ridiculous little sound.

Barely a lock.

Barely a door.

Barely anything.

Sarah stared at it.

Then her knees weakened.

She stumbled backward.

Reached the couch.

Collapsed onto it.

…and folded.

Completely.

Her arms wrapped around herself.

Her forehead dropped toward her knees.

The sobs returned.

Harder than before.

Not because of the door.

Not anymore.

Not because of Lars.

Not entirely.

Because Sarah had no idea what she had just done.

No idea what Lars had just done.

No idea whether he was coming back.

No idea what she wanted if he did.

No idea whether she wanted her husband...

...or simply needed him.

No idea whether those were even separate things anymore.

She cried until her chest hurt.

Until breathing hurt.

Until there was nothing graceful left in it.

Across the apartment...

Sophia and Peter slept.

Fido eventually emerged from the hallway.

He approached slowly.

Quietly.

No excitement this time.

He rested his head against Sarah's leg.

Sarah looked down.

Then immediately wrapped both arms around him.

Fido stayed.

The garden gate remained closed.

The hallway beyond it remained empty.

…and Sarah...

Curled into herself on the couch...

Had never felt more alone.