“Hi, Josephine, come on in,” Maxine said warmly, motioning to the familiar chair, which the pretty teenager curled up in like a kitten, with huge eyes that sought out Maxine's.

Within minutes, she had confessed, of her own volition, to stealing some of her mother's laxatives that week, but after careful consideration, she hadn't used them. Maxine nodded and they talked about it after that, among other things. Josephine had also met a boy she liked, now that she was back in school, and was feeling better about herself. It was a long, slow road back from the terrifying place she had been, when she weighed barely more than sixty pounds at thirteen. She was up to eighty-five now, still light for her height, but no longer as disastrously emaciated. Their current goal was a hundred. And for the moment, she was still gaining a pound a week, and hadn't slipped.

Maxine had one more patient after that, a sixteen-year-old girl who cut herself, had scars up and down her arms, which she covered, and had attempted suicide once at fifteen. Maxine had been called in by her family physician, and they were making slow but steady progress.

Maxine called Silver Pines before leaving her office, and was told that Jason had put jeans on and joined the other residents for dinner. He hadn't said much, and had gone back to his room right afterward, but it was a beginning. He was still on close suicide watch, and would be for a while, until the attending physician and Maxine felt more comfortable about him. He was still very depressed, and very much at risk, but at least he was safe at Silver Pines, which was why she had sent him there.

Maxine was in the elevator of her apartment building at seventhirty, exhausted. As she walked into the apartment, Sam flew by her at full speed, dressed as a turkey and gobbling loudly, and she grinned. It was good to be home. It had been a long day, and she was still sad about Jason herself. She cared a lot about her patients.

“Halloween is over!” she called out to him, as he stopped, grinned, and ran back her way to throw his arms around her waist and hug her. He nearly knocked her down when he did. He was a solid little kid.

“I know. I'm the turkey in the school play,” he said proudly.

“They got that part right,” Jack commented as he sauntered by in soccer shorts and cleats, making marks and leaving clumps of dirt on the carpet, which didn't concern him in the least. He was carrying a stack of video games he had borrowed from a friend.

“Zelda's going to have a fit,” his mother warned him, glancing at the carpet, and as soon as she said it, the nanny appeared scowling at them all.

“I'm going to throw those shoes out the window, if you don't park them at the door, Jack Williams. You're going to wreck all our rugs and floors! How many times do I have to tell you?” She hmphed loudly and stomped back into the kitchen, as he sat down on the floor and took his shoes off.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and then grinned up at his mother. “We won against Collegiate today. They're wimps. Two of them cried when they lost the game.” Maxine had seen boys on Jack's team cry too. Boys took their sports seriously, and were rarely gracious winners or losers, as she knew.

“That's nice that you won. I'm coming to the game on Thursday.” She had cleared her calendar to do it. And then she turned to Sam, gazing up at her adoringly in his turkey costume. “When's your play?”

“The day before Thanksgiving,” he said, looking delighted.

“Do you have any lines to learn?” He gobbled loudly for her in answer, as Jack covered his ears and walked away, and Zelda shouted from the kitchen, “Dinner in five minutes!”

She walked out again to see Maxine and lowered her voice. “We waited for you.” She tried to hold dinner on the evenings that Maxine worked late, except when it was just too much for the children. But she was good about making it possible for Maxine to share dinner with her children. Zelda knew how important that was to her. It was one of the many things Maxine appreciated about her. She was never sneaky or passive/aggressive about keeping Maxine from her kids, or screwing things up for her, as some of her friends' nannies did. Zelda was devoted to them in every way, and had been for twelve years.

And she had no desire whatsoever to usurp Maxine's motherly role with the kids.

“Thanks, Zellie,” Maxine said, and then glanced around. She hadn't seen her daughter yet, just the boys. “Where's Daff? In her room?” Sulking probably, she assumed, after being put on restriction the day before.

“She took her cell phone back, and was calling on it,” Sam volunteered before Zelda could answer, and the nanny frowned at him. She was going to tell Maxine herself at the right time. She always did, and Maxine knew she could trust her.

“It's not nice to tattle on your sister,” Zelda scolded, and Maxine raised an eyebrow, and headed for Daphne's room. As Sam had suggested, she found her on her bed, happily chatting on her cell phone. Daphne jumped when she saw her mother. Maxine advanced toward her with her hand held out for the phone. Looking nervous, Daphne put the cell phone in it, after rapidly disconnecting her friend without saying goodbye.

“Do we still have an honor system around here, or do I have to lock it up?” Things were definitely changing with Daphne at a rapid rate. There was a time, not long before, when she would have respected the punishment and not snatched back her phone. Thirteen was changing everything, and Maxine didn't love it.

“Sorry, Mom.” She didn't look directly at her mother, and then Zelda was calling them to dinner, and they all headed for the kitchen, Jack in bare feet and his soccer shorts, Daphne in the clothes she'd worn to school, and Sam still proudly wearing his turkey costume. Maxine took off the jacket to her suit, and changed into flat shoes. She had worn high heels all day. She always looked professional for work, and relaxed when she got home. If she'd had time, she would have changed into jeans, but dinner had waited long enough, and she was starved, as were the kids.

It was an easy, comfortable dinner, and Zelda sat down with them, as she always did. It seemed mean to Maxine to make her eat alone, and with no father at the table, Maxine had always invited her to join them. The children talked about what they'd done that day, except for Daphne, who said little, and knew she was still in disgrace. And she was embarrassed about the incident with the phone. She had figured out that Sam had squealed on her, so she glared at him, and whispered under her breath that she would get him later. And Jack talked about his game and promised to help his mother set up a new computer program. Everyone was in good spirits, and went back to their respective rooms after dinner, including Maxine, who was beat, after a long day. Zelda stayed in the kitchen to clean up. And Maxine wandered into Daphne's room to chat.

“Hi, can I come in?” she asked her daughter from the doorway. She usually asked permission, particularly right now.

“Whatever,” Daphne answered, which Maxine knew was as good as she would get, given the restriction, and the incident with the phone.

Maxine walked into the room, and sat down on the bed where Daphne was lying watching TV. She had done her homework before her mother got home. She was a good student, and got good grades. Jack was a little more erratic, given the temptation of his video games, and Sam didn't get homework yet. “I know you're mad at me about the restriction, Daff. But I didn't love the beer party. I want to be able to trust you and your friends, particularly if I have to go out.” Daphne didn't answer, she just looked away, and then she finally turned toward her mother with resentment in her eyes.

“It wasn't my idea. And someone else brought the beer.”

“You still let it happen. And I assume you drank some too. Our home is sacred, Daffy. So is my trust in you. I don't want anything to screw that up.” She knew without question that something would. It was to be expected at Daphne's age, and Maxine understood that, but she still had her parental role to play. She couldn't just pretend it hadn't happened, and not react. And Daphne knew that too. She was just sorry they got caught.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Your friends have to respect us when they come here. And I don't think beer parties are such a hot idea.”

“Other kids do worse,” her daughter said, sticking her chin out. And Maxine knew that. Much worse. They smoked pot, or even used hard drugs, or drank hard liquor, and these days a lot of girls had already had sex at Daphne's age. Maxine heard about it regularly in her practice. One of her patients had been giving random blow jobs since sixth grade. “So why is it such a big deal if we had some beer?” Daphne pressed.

“Because it's against our rules. And if you start breaking some rules, where is it going to stop? We have certain agreements with each other, spoken or otherwise, and we have to respect them, or renegotiate them at some point, but not right now. But rules are rules. I don't bring guys home and have wild sex parties here. You expect me to behave a certain way, and I do. And I don't sit around my room getting drunk on beer and passing out at night. How would you feel if I did that?” Daphne smiled in spite of herself at the unlikely vision of her mother.

“You never go out with anyone anyway. Lots of my friends' moms bring boyfriends home. You just don't have one.” The words were designed to hurt, and they did, a little.

“Even if I did, I wouldn't be getting drunk in my room. When you're a little older, you can have a drink with me, or in front of me. But you're not of legal drinking age, and neither are your friends, and I don't want that going on here. And surely not at thirteen.”