A content sigh exited Laura's mouth. She leaned back in her chair, resting her head. She smiled as she laid a hand gently over her stomach.

"Oh, goodness, that was just heavenly."

Thomas chuckled a bit as he dabbed his mouth with his napkin. "See, Dear? I told you. When it comes to cooking, there's just no competing with Henry."

Henry blushed a little at this. "Thomas, please. I'm happy that you enjoyed the food, but I think you might be praising me a little too much."

"Well, I disagree," Laura chimed in. "If anything, I don't think he's praising you enough. You'll have to give me the recipe for that chicken dish you made. It was just wonderful."

In all my time at the mansion, I couldn't think of a single meal of Henry's that I didn't enjoy, and, aside from some complaints about the portion sizes, I couldn't ever remember saying anything but praises about his food. Still, in all that time, I never once saw him react to me the way he reacted to Laura's compliments just now.

A deep blush filled his face, his head looked down shyly, and, for once, he seemed to be at a complete loss for words. Apparently, Laura had that effect on all of us. Maybe it was like I thought before: she was an outsider and, therefore, her opinion mattered more somehow.

But no. It was more than that. It was something about Laura herself. A sincerity that came through in her words that just made you feel good about yourself when she praised you. Like a mother praising her child. Something Mr. Weston and I had both been missing in our lives, I guess.

My brooding thoughts were interrupted by Henry clearing his throat. "Well, then I'm glad you enjoyed lunch so much. I guess that means I have some high expectations to live up to for dinner." He paused suddenly. "You two are staying for dinner, I hope."

Laura blushed slightly and lowered her eyes to the table. "Oh, I'd hate to inconvenience you with all that. After all, we did only say we'd be here for lunch, and-"

"Nonsense!" Henry interrupted, smiling. "I was hoping the two of you would stay for dinner. Lunch was just my testing ground to see what might suit your tastes the best. Now that I've done that, I promise to make something truly spectacular for dinner."

The sudden chiming of the clock caught his attention. His eyes went wide with surprise as he turned towards it. Without another word, he quickly wiped his mouth and jumped out of his chair.

"Ah! Speaking of which, I'd better get started before it gets too late. Ms. Walton will take care of you in my absence. I'll call for you when dinner is ready."

Once again, he nodded to Thomas and Laura briefly before turning on his heels and rushing back to the kitchen.

Poor Laura, it looked like her head was still spinning from the flurry of things that had just happened. She pressed her fingers to her temples and gave a weak smile.

"Goodness, that boy really only has one speed, doesn't he?"

"Henry does for sure," I chuckled.

"So is it always like this when he's 'Henry' then? Does he really just spend all day cooped up in that kitchen?"

"Yes," Thomas and I answered in sync.

We gave each other a knowing smile as we did so. Thomas cleared his throat and turned to Laura.

"Actually, sitting down to have a proper meal with us is already pretty impressive for Henry. When I was here, I used to just sit in the kitchen and eat meals there half the time, and Henry himself almost never ate. It's actually quite impressive the impact Ms. Walton seems to have had on him since my absence."

"It's not like I really did anything," I mumbled, waving off his comment. "We eat together and he stopped making enough food to feed an army. That's all."

Thomas chuckled. "I think you and I both know that's a feat in and of itself when it comes to Henry."

Honestly, I couldn't really argue with him there. Even I was surprised sometimes by how quickly Henry had gotten his portion sizes under control. Not that he still didn't have his slip-up every now and again.

Laura clapped her hands together suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts. She smiled warmly.

"Well, it looks like we'll be troubling you for dinner too," she said playfully. "I'm not sure what time you all eat around here, but I'm pretty sure that's still quite a few hours from now. So, what should we do in the meantime?"

"Sorry, but I actually have to meet with the cleaners right now," I explained.

"Is it cleaning day already?" Thomas asked more to himself than anyone else.

"Yes, and I should probably head over there soon. Thomas, not to pull you out of your retirement or anything, but mind taking over for me and showing your wife around until I get back?" I teased.

"I think I can handle that," he chuckled. He stood up and held his arm out for Laura playfully. "If you'd be so kind as to come with me, Mrs. Anderson, I'd be more than happy to show you around and give you a bit of history about the mansion."

Laura giggled as she locked her arm with his. "My, my. Who could resist such an offer? Especially with such an attractive tour guide."

Although part of me really wanted to stick around to watch the show that was Thomas and Laura flirting with each other, my better judgment told me I had to get to the meeting room. And quick.

It was a good thing I did too. The last few cleaners were already shuffling their way into the room by the time I got there. I didn't waste any time getting things started and went through the normal routine of dividing teams and distributing the workload. 

About halfway through, I realized I forgot to ask Thomas and Laura if they'd be staying the night or not, but I decided to deal with it later. The bedrooms were on the list of things to be cleaned today anyways, and I could always do things like putting on fresh sheets myself.

While I never really tried to make the meetings "long," today especially I tried my best to get everybody in and out. I wasn't sure how long Thomas's "tour" of the house would take and I didn't want to leave him and Laura waiting on me any longer than they had to. 

The moment the last cleaner filed out of the room, I bolted down the hall. Not that it mattered really. After all, I still didn't have a good answer to Laura's earlier question. What were we going to do until dinner time?

Henry would definitely spend the majority of the time in the kitchen, so it wasn't like he and Thomas would be catching up much. The only form of "entertainment," so to speak, was the projector in Mr. Weston's room, but it didn't really seem appropriate to take Thomas and Laura there. There was always the games in the lounge, I suppose, but I had no idea if any of them would be to Thomas and Laura's tastes. If they were even game people at all. So what could we do?

Well, I guess the first step would be finding them. As I wandered down the hall, I realized we never set up any kind of meeting spot. However, the sound of laughter echoing from the lounge gave me a good idea of where they were.

Sure enough, as I entered the room there they were. Smiles on their faces and an old game box in Thomas's hands.

"Ah, did you two find a game you liked?" I asked.

"Not exactly. More like taking a trip down memory lane, Thomas mused, a nostalgic smile on his face. "Honestly, I'd nearly forgotten we had some of these. Even before I left, it'd been quite some time since Mr. Weston and I had played. God, it feels like ages ago. He was so small then..."

"What was his favorite game?" Laura chipped in. Probably eager to hear more about Thomas's fatherly side than his servant side for once.

Thomas chuckled at the question. "They all had different favorites. And not the ones you might expect either. Victor, for example, preferred chess while Jack was actually the one who preferred things like Candy Land."

"Really?"

I hadn't planned on chiming in to their conversation, but I guess that fact caught me off guard. Thomas nodded as he looked down at the colorful, weathered box.

"You wouldn't ever imagine it, but yes. Victor was never really an 'academic' child, so to speak, but he's always been very intelligent. I often wondered what might have become of him if he'd applied that intelligence to his studies instead of using it to cause mischief."

"Honestly, I think it just would have made him more dangerous," I teased.

"Perhaps you're right," Thomas chuckled. He held up the game box and turned towards Laura and me with a huge grin. "What do you say we play a couple rounds?"

"Oh, Tom," Laura said, hitting his arm lightly, "come on now. It'd be one thing if it was the grandkids, but Anna's a grown woman. I'm sure she'd be bored to tears playing that."

While "bored to tears" might have been a bit of an exaggeration, I couldn't really say I was particularly interested in playing either. However, seeing the slight way Thomas's shoulder slumped, and how the light seemed to dim in his eyes, I couldn't help but leap to his defense.

"Actually, I think it would be kind of fun! I didn't have the chance to play it much as a child, so it might be nice to play a round or two."

"You really never played?"

Again, the soft, maternal tone came out in Laura's voice. Her eyes held a hint of sadness as they looked at me now. I tried to smile reassuringly, but somehow that just seemed to make her worry more.

"You know what, Tom? You're right. Let's play a couple games," she said quickly, grabbing the game from him and hurrying over to the table.

He stared at her wide-eyed for a second before suddenly breaking into a smile. He chuckled under his breath and shook his head, and it wasn't hard to figure out why.

Laura was the very essence of the word "maternal." Thomas, Mr. Weston, even me. It didn't matter who was around her, she just couldn't seem to help caring for them in one way or another. And you couldn't really ask her to either. Because, just like Thomas, it was those very parts of her personality that helped to make her who she was. That made her the person people around her loved so much.

Thomas looked in my direction and nodded briefly towards Laura, signaling that we should join her. She was already setting up the board by the time we got there. She gave me the biggest smile as I sat at the table.

"Alright, since Anna's the one who's a little new to this, I think she should pick her game piece first."

"Shouldn't the guests be the ones going first?" I hinted.

"Oh, nonsense. It's just a game. It doesn't matter who goes first. Now, pick one," she insisted, gesturing towards the pieces.

I didn't have that heart to tell her the irony of saying those two phrases back to back like that. So, instead, I did as she asked and picked out a game piece.

Originally, I thought we'd just play a round or two, but a "round or two" quickly turned into several games. Even when we finally decided to stop, all we really did was switch which game we were playing.

Risk, Chutes and Ladders, Jenga. We were about halfway through an intense, cutthroat rematch of Monopoly before I even realized how much time we'd spent playing. I had glanced up to make some kind of property trade with Thomas when I noticed the clock behind him. Somehow, we'd been playing almost five hours.

I was stunned. How was that even possible? I mean, sure, we'd played quite a few games, but that many? How did I never once notice the time?

"Oh, come on!" Thomas shouted, throwing down a card in annoyance.

I glanced over to see that he'd just landed on one of Laura's properties. She grinned at him mischievously and drummed her fingers on the table, eyeing his ever-dwindling pile of money.

"Come on, Tom. Pay up."

"This whole game is a crock!"

She shrugged playfully. "Well, if you don't like it, then maybe you shouldn't have been poor."

They started going back and forth about that for a minute. Still, something about it made me smile. Were they arguing? Sure. But it wasn't really an argument.

I knew real arguments. The biting comments and loud voices that sickened you to your very core. The kind of arguments that made you wish the floor would just open up and swallow you so you wouldn't have to listen to them anymore. But this? This wasn't that.

Despite the "arguing," it was clear as day that Thomas and Laura really didn't mean a word of it. Aside from some wounded pride, everyone would go home today with their feelings intact. Hell, they'd probably even be laughing about it by dinner.

My body suddenly bolted upright at the thought of dinner. "Ah! The cleaners. I almost forgot."

"Hmm? What do you mean? You-" Thomas's eyes went wide as they finally set sight on the clock. "My god! Is it really that late already?"

"Yes, and I'd better hurry and do my inspection now. God only knows what Henry will do if I'm late for dinner."

"Actually, I know," he muttered, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "You're right, you'd better get going. I guess we'll just call this game a draw."

"A draw?!" Laura cried indignantly. "I hardly think so! Just look at our piles. I've clearly won this game."

"It's not over until it's over when it comes to Monopoly," Thomas argued. "I easily could have turned things around and taken the whole game."

"In your dreams!"

As entertaining as their "fighting" was, I really didn't have time to stay and listen to it. I excused myself while they bickered with each other, silently making my way into the hall.

As I started, a part of me wished I would've invited Thomas to do the inspection with me. I think he would have been proud of how far I'd come. 

Just like he promised, checking the rooms was a matter of routine for me now. No room ever took more than a few minutes to walk through, and even if I let my mind wander, I wasn't worried about missing anything. Which was good, considering that I couldn't seem to focus right now.

My mind kept wandering back to the lounge, playing games with Thomas and Laura. I still couldn't believe how much fun I had. And the strangest part was, it wasn't even the games that I was really enjoying. It was Thomas and Laura.

Something about playing with them just made everything seem so fun. The way they laughed, teased each other, encouraged me. Laura even went easy on me during a couple games. Thomas definitely didn't though. I snickered to myself remembering the way he gloated after I knocked over the tower during Jenga. Laura chastizing him, Thomas dancing out of his chair, me laughing. God, it was almost like we were...

I stopped dead in my tracks. My heart squeezed so tightly in my chest that I felt like I couldn't breathe. I tried to stop them, but the words filled my head before I even had the chance.

A family.

Was that why this all felt so new to me? So happy? So fun? So unlike anything I'd ever experienced before? Was this what it felt like to be a part of a real family?

I took a deep breath and fanned my eyes with my hands to stop the tears. No. No crying today. This was a happy day. And if Thomas and Laura were really treating me like family, then that was all the more reason to dry these tears and put on a smile.

So, I did. I forced a smile to my face and nodded to myself before continuing my inspection. It didn't take long for that forced smile to become a real one though. Again, my mind started wandering to happier fantasies.

Thomas and Laura coming over every week for a Sunday dinner. Thomas and Laura visiting on holidays. Maybe even taking Mr. Weston out so we could visit Thomas and Laura at their home one of these days.

It all sounded so nice. The four of us sitting around, spending the day together. I almost felt bad Henry was wasting all day in the kitchen now. It was like he was missing out on all the fun. But then again, it was Henry. I'm sure there was no place in the world he'd rather be than sitting in that kitchen, preparing elaborate and delicious food for his favorite people. 

Besides, those fantasies of mine were just fantasies anyway. After all, didn't Thomas tell me himself that he wanted to step back and give Mr. Weston some independence? Didn't Laura have a family of her own that she probably had plans with? It wasn't their responsibility to fill in the voids left by my own shitty family. And I had no right to put that responsibility on them either.

Still, it was nice to think about. A couple fun little fantasies I could keep to myself and think about when I was feeling blue. And I had my memories from today too. That was more than enough.

Thankfully, it seemed that I started my inspection at just the right time. No sooner had I entered the last room than I heard the familiar crackle of the intercom.

"Ms. Walton?"

"I'm on the last room now, Henry. I'll be there as soon as I meet with the cleaners. Thomas, Laura, if you can hear me, you guys go ahead without me."

"We'll meet you there," Thomas responded.

I made the judgment call to skip over the last room and head straight to the meeting room. Even then, I made it a point to keep my wrap-up with the cleaners as brief as possible. After all, everyone was already at dinner and I knew Henry would chastise me if I took too long. I was out the door before the last worker even left.

However, as I entered the dining room, what I met was a sight of pure horror. "Henry, what the hell?!"

"What?" He asked as if genuinely unsure of what he had done.

"What do you mean 'what?' Look at all this food!"

To call what I saw a "buffet" would be like calling a hurricane a "drizzle." Plates upon plates covered every inch of the table. It was a banquet fit for royalty. The problem was, there were only the four of us here to eat it. And two of those spirits already looked broken.

Although they kept smiles plastered on their faces, Thomas and Laura looked at me with hollow and desperate eyes. Without a word, I could hear them begging me to help somehow. 

Laura was already a modest and polite person by nature. Add in her shyness towards Mr. Weston and there was no way she could ever speak up. And poor Thomas. You would think their years of history together would make it easier to talk, but if anything, I think it made it more difficult. Thomas knew better than anyone that food was Henry's version of a love language. How could he possibly say anything negative knowing Henry had put this much effort into something just for him and Laura? They were trapped. Horribly, desperately trapped. And they really needed someone to be the bad guy here.

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Henry, what were you thinking?"

Henry frowned a bit and looked down at the table, shrugging. "I mean... It's not really that much food."

"Not that-?!" I paused and took a deep breath to calm myself. "Henry..."

"They'll make good leftovers."

My jaw nearly hit the floor, and although I couldn't see my own face, I was pretty sure it couldn't have been too different from the one Thomas had at that moment. We were both in shock. And I'm guessing it was probably for the same reason too. Never, even in my wildest dreams, could I ever have imagined Henry using the word "leftovers."

To him, that word was as bad as a curse word. Maybe even worse. "Leftovers" would mean that his food had not been finished. A thing that he had always considered completely unacceptable. 

His food was always to be consumed hot and perfect. To even think of eating it in a "less than perfect" condition was blasphemy of the highest kind in his book. So, to hear him actually say the word "leftovers" himself? Hell, I was ready for pigs to start flying.

I guess he noticed our surprise. Not that we did much to hide it. He rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

"Look, I know, in the past, I've caused my companions some... distress by preparing a bit too much food at times." He held up his hand before Thomas or I could say anything. "But, today especially, I wanted to make sure I didn't do that. So, I made foods that I knew would retain their quality, and in some cases, improve even, if they were eaten later. So, Thomas, Laura, please don't feel pressured to finish everything today. Eat what you like and then feel free to take your favorites with you later. Ms. Walton and I can finish the rest over the next couple of days."

If his goal was to reduce the stunned look on our faces, then he failed miserably. Thomas and I were frozen in a state of confusion. In fact, it wasn't until we heard the distinct clinking of silverware against china that we regained any sort of consciousness. We turned to see Laura with a plateful of food. She smiled at us in her usual, gentle way.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'd like to taste the food while it's still hot. How am I supposed to tell poor Mr. Weston how the leftovers were next visit if I haven't even tried the original to compare them to?"

I couldn't even begin to describe the way that Henry's eyes lit up upon hearing this. "Oh, yes, yes. Please do. I'd love to know which ones worked more successfully."

"Well, we're happy to help," Laura answered, not even waiting for Thomas to weigh in.

Not that I could blame her. After all, we'd been sitting there like slack-jawed morons the whole time. Somebody had to take the first step. And considering the look on Henry's face right now, I'm kind of glad it was Laura.

Thomas and I decided to follow suit and dig in. Of course, like all of Henry's meals, it was delicious. Even without making enough food to feed an army, it was hard to resist stuffing ourselves. It wasn't long before we were all bloated and groaning around the table. 

Henry frowned a bit as he went around picking up the dishes. "I told you you didn't have to force yourselves."

"I didn't force a thing. It all went down quite nicely, I'd say," Thomas joked.

"Goodness, I could just fall asleep at this table," Laura said, resting her head against her hand.

The comment suddenly sparked my memory. "Oh! Speaking of which, would you two like to stay the night tonight? I can set up a room for you."

Again, that nervousness returned to Laura's eyes. The irrational worry that she was putting us out somehow. However, before she even had the chance to open her mouth, Thomas spoke up.

"Thank you, Ms. Walton, but I'm afraid we should be heading back home soon. We've already long overstayed our welcome. And besides, I'm sure the dogs are probably hungry by now."

"Ugh! I hope they haven't gotten into the trash again," Laura sighed, her mind already somewhere far away from this house.

"Well, that's a shame. It would have been nice to see you a little more. You two could have stayed for breakfast," Henry commented. His eyes suddenly narrowed as they looked toward me though. "That is if somebody allows me to cook breakfast for once."

Thomas did his best to repress a smile. "Well, next time come out of that little hobbit hole of yours if you want to see us. We've been here all day you know."

"Absolutely not, I'll just have you stay in the kitchen instead. Just like old times," Henry laughed.

Although I'm sure it was, mostly, a joke, it was obvious the phrase "like old times" really stabbed at Thomas. Again, his face softened and any hope he had of playing the stern parental figure was gone in an instant.

"Yes... that might be nice," he said softly.

However, Henry, almost as oblivious to social cues as Arthur, didn't seem to notice. He continued walking around the table, collecting dishes as if nothing had changed.

"Just give me a minute to clear the table and I'll pack up some leftovers for you two. It's already dark and I wouldn't want you to try to drive home half asleep or anything."

"I'd better pull the car around in that case," Laura commented, wobbling to her feet. "That garage sure is quite the hike from here."

"Ah, I suppose it is," Henry commented. He shrugged. "I guess I never thought about it before. All the more reason to get that food together for you then. You might work up another appetite by the time you get home."

Laura laughed. "Who knows? Maybe."

She gave us a small wave before heading out the door. Henry disappeared into the kitchen. Now it was just me and Thomas. He sighed as he lowered himself back into his chair.

"No point in standing before I have to. What about you, Ms. Walton?"

I shook my head. "As tempting as it sounds. I think it's better if I stand. Henry might need my help carrying things."

"Ah, I didn't even think of that..." He paused a moment. "But I used to... I used to anticipate everything he might need me for. Before he even knew it sometimes. I guess I really have lost my touch when it comes to that stuff..."

"Thomas-"

He held up his hand to stop me. "Don't worry. I didn't say that was a bad thing. It's certainly different, but not bad necessarily. After all, I'm not his caretaker anymore. I'm his friend. That's all I was trying to be to him today, and... maybe it's good that I'm finally starting to act like it."

I didn't know what to say, but before I even had to chance to think of something, Henry came back through the door carrying a large canvas bag. He let out an exhausted huff as he set it on the table in front of Thomas.

"Sorry, we don't really have anything suitable for carrying leftovers and a garbage bag just seemed unspeakable. But I figured this would work just as well."

Thomas forced a smile to his face as he stood up and slung the heavy bag over his shoulder. "If memory recalls, you also don't have anything suitable to use as 'take-out' containers. So, is it fair to guess that this is mostly tupperware?"

Henry smiled mischievously. "In fact, it is. I guess that means you'll have to come back to return it then, won't you?"

So that was his plan. A small snicker escaped Thomas's lips as he realized it too. Of course. The leftovers weren't just a convenient way to make sure all the extra food got eaten, and it wasn't really about getting feedback on his cooking either. Henry wanted a way to make sure that Thomas would have to come back to visit him again. And soon too.

But Thomas didn't say a word about it. Maybe because Henry wasn't really trying to hide it himself, but mostly, I think it was because Thomas was happy to have an excuse to come back too.

He just nodded slightly as he adjusted the bag on his shoulder. "Of course, Sir. I'll make sure to return them quickly."

Henry seemed satisfied with that response. He walked over and threw his arm around Thomas's shoulder, patting it gently. "Come. I'll see you out. I'm sure Laura's probably gotten the car by now. Oh, and make sure you bring her when you bring the tupperware back."

"Why's that, Sir?"

Henry chuckled. "Because I need somebody who will actually give me feedback on the food."

They walked out of the dining room laughing together. I started to follow them down the hall but stopped after a few steps.

"Umm, Sir?" I called out.

"Yes, Ms. Walton?"

"Will you be needing me for anything else tonight? I'm a little..." I paused and rested my hand on my full stomach.

"Ah, no. I'm just going to finish up the dishes and head to bed. Please, go get some rest. I've kept you pretty busy today."

I nodded and gave a small smile to Thomas. He smiled in return before turning back towards Mr. Weston and heading down the hall again.

I headed upstairs, but instead of going towards my room, I slipped into one of the guest rooms facing the front yard. I pulled back the edge of the curtain just enough to see what was going on outside. Even though it was dark, I could still make out Thomas and Henry's silhouettes in the moonlight. The way they walked out with their arms around each other, the small wave they gave to each other as they parted ways, Thomas disappearing inside the car.

And then Henry. His frame unmoving in the darkness. 

He stood there as Thomas and Laura drove off past the gate. He stood there as their car turned into a tiny black dot on the horizon. Even long after it had disappeared from his vision, he stood there, unmoving. Waiting. Watching. As if he still wasn't quite ready to say goodbye.

Thomas told me before that what Henry felt for others was companionship. A sense of caring. Not love. But looking at him now, the way he almost refused to move from that one spot, the way he stared, unwavering, into the distance, I knew for a fact that Thomas was wrong.