Free Five Days in Summer by Katia Lief

Sarah’s hip the whole time the copy machine whirred. Maxi tugged at her ear and Sarah remembered that she had failed to give Maxi her antibiotics. It was supposed to be twice a day and she hadn’t given it even once. She promised herself to do better, remember more, notice everything. She would have to buck up and take good careof these children. She rocked Maxi on her hip and sang “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” as Emily’s face spewed out of the copier, over and over: MISSING MISSING MISSING.
    She posted her first sign right there at the copy shop, one at Ricky’s Market, a couple at the next grouping of stores. Two at Stop & Shop, one at each of the stores in the complex, and one at the drive-through bank facing the parking lot. It was already crowded with morning shoppers.
    As it turned out, fifty copies didn’t go very far. When she was through canvassing the Commons, she had only a few left. She drove up Route 28 to the Deer Crossing shopping center and posted the remaining signs. It was only ten thirty by the time she was done.
    Maxi fell asleep just as Sarah pulled into the garage at home. The baby was exhausted and Sarah decided to let her have her nap in the car. Will’s rental car was parked outside, and the talking, when she entered the house, would only wake Maxi if she was brought in.
    Sarah went in through the mudroom, leaving the outside door open to hear Maxi if she woke. She didn’t want to call out so close to the garage, so she crept in quietly. There was no sign of anyone. She checked the downstairs bedrooms, even the loft. No one. Maybe Barbara had taken the boys to her house. A quick call over was answered by Barbara, who said, “Will got back. Didn’t know he was up Cape. He looked bad, Sarah.”
    “Do you know where they are?”
    “Not a clue. He asked me where you were. What’s going on?”
    “I’ll explain later. Don’t take it personally, dear. We’re having a hard day.”
    “And it’s only just morning. Well...”
    Sarah thanked Barbara and was finally able to usher her off the phone.
    The beach. Maybe he’d taken them for a swim.
    She flung open the porch door and hurried down the steps to the back gardens, along the grassy road that led to the grove of trees, and finally to the clearing opposite their small, private beach.
    She had been right and she had been wrong. They were all three wearing their bathing suits — the morning had grown hot — but they weren’t swimming.
    Will stood in front of the boys, heels to shore. The boys stood side by side in front of him, facing the water. They were practicing their aikido. Will moved with a powerful grace, concentrated so fully on the moment that he didn’t see Sarah at first. The boys’ movements mirrored his. The slowly pivoting bodies, the sudden expulsion of an arm, its gentle drifting down. Then the same movement in the other direction, eyes focused ahead, responding to nothing, as if seeing inwardly. Their control was breathtaking. They were like swallows moving on an invisible pulse of air. It was one of the most beautiful things Sarah had ever seen, a moment she knew would stay with her. All three of them, even Sam, appeared as light as feathers yet bursting with strength.
    When the movement ended, Will’s eyes flicked up to see Sarah. He nodded, then continued.
    “Balance,” he told his sons. “Keep your weight underside .”
    The boys stood facing each other, set their legs apart so their feet dug into the sand, and pressed their hands against each other’s as they leaned reciprocally into the space between them. Sammie appeared to be trying to push David over, as he resisted, a little annoyed.
    “You’re going for balance, not trying to overpower each other,” Will said.
    Sam eased up and met David’s equilibrium.
    Now Will’s eyes settled fully on Sarah. She waved.
    “Where’s Maxi?” he asked.
    “I left her sleeping in the car.”
    Sarah immediately realized her mistake. Emily was always correcting