WHEN SHE BECAME OURS

Chapter 3: The Proposition

Sarah Collins stared at Jake Morrison across his polished conference table, certain she'd misheard him. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"Dr. Miller would like to hire you to attend Emma's Mother's Day tea party. As her mother."

"As her pretend mother."

"Yes."

Sarah set down her coffee cup with deliberate care. She'd come to Jake's office to review the latest settlement offers from her soon-to-be-ex-husband, not to discuss the most bizarre job proposal of her life.

"This is a joke, right? Some kind of stress-relief exercise before we talk about how my husband is trying to screw me out of half my pension?"

Jake's expression remained perfectly serious. "Five hundred dollars for approximately three hours of work. Cash payment upon completion."

Sarah laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Jake, I'm Emma's teacher. I can't just show up and pretend to be her mother. That's... that's insane."

"Is it? You already know everything about her. You know what makes her happy, what she's afraid of, how to comfort her when she's upset. You've seen how she lights up when she talks about wanting her mother to come to school."

Sarah had indeed seen it. Yesterday, Emma had worked on her Mother's Day card with such focused concentration that Sarah had found herself blinking back tears. The little girl had used every crayon in the box, creating a rainbow explosion around the words "I LOVE YOU MOMMY" in her careful kindergarten handwriting.

"This is unethical," Sarah said firmly. "I could lose my job."

"For what? Helping a student outside of school hours? You volunteer at weekend reading programs. You've helped other families with after-school tutoring."

"That's different, and you know it."

Jake leaned forward. "Sarah, you told me last week that you're three months behind on your mortgage because Rick cleaned out your joint account before filing for divorce. You said you were considering taking a weekend job at Target just to pay for this legal representation."

Sarah felt heat rise in her cheeks. She'd been stupid to trust Rick with their finances, stupider still to believe he'd honor their verbal agreement about splitting assets fairly. Now she was facing the reality of starting over at thirty-two with nothing but debt and a teaching salary that barely covered rent.

"That doesn't mean I'm desperate enough to—"

"To what? To give a little girl the happiest day of her kindergarten career?"

The words hit harder than Sarah expected. She thought about Emma Miller, always the first one ready for dismissal, always scanning the pickup line with hopeful eyes even though it was always her father who came. The little girl who drew family pictures with three stick figures but could never explain who the third person was supposed to be.

"Her father seems like a good man," Sarah said carefully. "Surely there's someone in his life who could—"

"There isn't. David works sixty-hour weeks at the hospital. His parents live three states away. Emma's maternal grandparents want nothing to do with her." Jake consulted his notes. "David's social life consists of grabbing coffee with colleagues between surgeries and attending Emma's school events. The man doesn't date, Sarah. He doesn't have time."

Sarah knew this was true. In two years of parent-teacher conferences and school events, Dr. Miller had always come alone. He was polite, engaged, clearly devoted to Emma, but there was a tiredness around his eyes that went deeper than medical residency exhaustion.

"What exactly would I have to do?"

Jake smiled, sensing her wavering resolve. "Show up to the tea party as David's... let's say girlfriend. Someone Emma's been excited to meet. Drink tea, eat cookies, admire art projects. Be warm and motherly for two hours."

"And after that?"

"That's between you and David. Maybe you gradually fade from Emma's life. Maybe you become a family friend. The immediate goal is getting through Friday without Emma being the only child there without a mother figure."

Sarah stared out Jake's window at the courthouse steps where she'd filed her own divorce papers three months ago. Rick had been having an affair with his dental hygienist for over a year, but somehow Sarah was the one left scrambling to rebuild her life.

Five hundred dollars would cover her car payment and groceries for the month.

"I'd need to know more details," she heard herself saying. "Background story, how we supposedly met, how long we've been... together."

"David suggested keeping it simple. You met recently, you've been taking things slow because of Emma, this is your first big family event together."

"And Emma? What has he told her about me—about this mysterious mother figure?"

"Just that someone special wants to meet her. Emma filled in the blanks herself."

Sarah closed her eyes. She could picture Emma's excitement, the way the little girl had been practically vibrating with anticipation all week. Every day, Emma asked if Friday was tomorrow yet. Every day, she shared new details about what she wanted to show her mommy.

"This is crazy," Sarah murmured.

"Crazy desperate, maybe. But not crazy wrong."

Sarah opened her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that little girl has been essentially motherless for three years. Her father is drowning trying to be everything to her while keeping people alive for a living. And you're a kindergarten teacher going through a divorce who needs money and happens to care about Emma's wellbeing." Jake shrugged. "Sometimes the universe presents us with solutions that seem crazy until you really think about them."

"I could get fired."

"Only if someone reports you. And who's going to report a teacher for caring too much about a student's happiness?"

Sarah thought about her principal, Mrs. Henderson, who'd been supportive throughout Sarah's personal crisis but had also made it clear that the school couldn't afford any scandals or publicity problems.

"I need to think about it."

"Fair enough. But Sarah, I need an answer by tomorrow morning. If you say no, David needs time to find another solution."

"What other solution?"

"I honestly don't know. Hire a professional actress? Post an ad on Craigslist? Take Emma out of school that day and pretend she's sick?" Jake's expression grew serious. "Look, you know David Miller better than I do, at least in his capacity as Emma's father. Would he do anything to hurt that little girl?"

"No," Sarah said immediately. "Never. He adores her."

"Then trust that he's thought this through. Trust that he wouldn't ask for your help unless he was out of other options."

Sarah gathered her purse and the divorce paperwork they'd never gotten around to discussing. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Sarah?" Jake stood as she reached the door. "For what it's worth, I think you'd be perfect for this. Emma trusts you already. You know how to make her feel safe and loved. That's all David is really asking for."

The drive home gave Sarah too much time to think. Her apartment felt smaller these days, filled with furniture she'd had to buy after Rick took everything in their house that wasn't nailed down. The silence was oppressive—no television, since Rick had claimed their smart TV, no music system, no sounds of another person moving around.

She'd gotten used to quiet. Teaching kindergarten was anything but quiet, so coming home to silence had initially felt peaceful. Now it just felt lonely.

Sarah made herself a sandwich and sat at her small kitchen table, trying to imagine what it would be like to walk into Emma's classroom on Friday pretending to be someone's mother.

The idea terrified her.

It also, if she was being completely honest, excited her.

Sarah had always wanted children. She and Rick had talked about it early in their marriage, making vague plans about "someday" and "when things settle down." But Rick had kept pushing back the timeline—first until he finished dental school, then until he established his practice, then until they bought a bigger house.

Now Sarah was thirty-two and divorced, starting over with nothing but debt and a job that barely paid enough for her to support herself, let alone a family.

But Emma Miller looked at her with such trust, such affection. The little girl saved her best artwork for Sarah's desk, asked if she could help clean the classroom after school, beamed when Sarah complimented her reading progress.

What would it feel like to have Emma look at her not as Miss Sarah, but as someone who belonged in her life permanently?

Sarah pushed the thought away. This was a job. A weird, potentially disastrous job, but just a job. She'd show up, play a role for a few hours, collect her money, and figure out how to transition back to being just Emma's teacher.

Simple.

Her phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. The caller ID showed her sister's number.

"Hey, Jenny."

"Sarah, thank God. I was starting to worry when you didn't return my calls. How are you holding up?"

Sarah's younger sister lived in California with her husband and two kids, living the life Sarah had thought she'd have by now. "I'm fine. Just busy with work and the divorce stuff."

"Any word from Rick's lawyer about the settlement?"

"They're being generous," Sarah said dryly. "They're offering me thirty percent of our joint assets and my car."

"Thirty percent? Sarah, that's ridiculous. You were married for eight years."

"Apparently Rick's new girlfriend is expensive to maintain."

Jenny was quiet for a moment. "Are you okay financially? I know teaching doesn't pay much, and with all the legal fees..."

Sarah looked around her sparse apartment. "I'm managing."

"Sarah, if you need help—"

"I'm managing," Sarah repeated firmly. She'd borrowed money from Jenny twice already since the separation. Her pride couldn't take a third time.

"Okay, but promise me you'll call if things get desperate."

Desperate. The word echoed in Sarah's mind after they hung up. Was she desperate? Desperate enough to pretend to be a five-year-old's mother for money?

Maybe she was.

Sarah walked to her bedroom and opened the bottom drawer of her dresser, where she kept the folder of bills that seemed to multiply every month. Mortgage, car payment, credit card minimums, legal fees. The math was simple and depressing: she was three hundred dollars short every month, even with her tight budget.

Five hundred dollars wouldn't solve her problems, but it would give her breathing room. Maybe enough breathing room to figure out a real solution.

Her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

"Ms. Collins, this is David Miller. Jake gave me your number. I know this request is unusual, but I hope you'll consider it. Emma talks about you constantly. She trusts you. If you're willing to help us, I promise to make this as easy as possible for everyone involved."

Sarah stared at the message. David Miller had always struck her as a man who measured his words carefully, who didn't ask for help unless he absolutely needed it.

She typed and deleted several responses before settling on: "I'll have an answer for you tomorrow."

His reply came immediately: "Thank you for even considering it. That means more than you know."

Sarah set down her phone and walked to her window, looking out at the parking lot of her apartment complex. Across the street, she could see the playground of Sunnydale Elementary, where Emma Miller would spend tomorrow afternoon crafting last-minute decorations for Friday's tea party, probably asking Miss Sarah for the hundredth time if she thought her mommy would like the cookies they were making.

Sarah closed her eyes and made her decision.

She was going to help Emma Miller have the perfect Mother's Day tea party.

Even if it meant stepping into the most complicated lie of her life.