Goodbye, Mr. Regret

"Miss Sheila? Is that really you?"

Sheila turned, catching Henry's gaze.

For a moment, Henry forgot all about looking for his mother. Beaming, he scurried over to Sheila's side.

Sheila's brows knit together, her voice soft and apologetic. "Henry, last night over dinner, you mentioned not liking the school lunches. I wanted to make you something myself to take today, but... I think I messed up."

No sooner had she finished speaking than the acrid smell of burning filled the air then flames leapt up from the pan on the stove.

With a frightened gasp, Sheila dropped to the floor, curling into a tight ball.

Henry, alarmed, wrapped his arms around her and shouted, "Dad! There's a fire in the kitchen! Dad!"

As he tried to soothe her, he gently patted Sheila's back. "Miss Sheila, it's okay. Don't be scared."

Timothy hurried in, drawn by the commotion. Without missing a beat, he turned off the gas and clamped the lid onto the flaming pan. The fire sputtered out almost immediately.

But Sheila was still trembling, unable to move.

Concern shadowed Timothy's usually composed features.

He knelt down beside her and called, more gently this time, "Sheila."

lifted her head, her eyes shimmering with

I really so

memory flashed across Timothy's mind-a fire,

Sheila had been terrified

shouldn't come into the

Henry. "Miss Sheila went through a fire once. She's afraid of it.

"Timothy, it's not

Sheila, you're so

want you eating poorly at

as he hugged her tightly, his voice trembling. "Miss Sheila, you're too good to me. Please don't ever go into the kitchen again,

her feet, but her legs buckled. Without hesitation, he scooped

backpack. We're

yard, Mabel was sweeping up leaves. When she saw Timothy carrying Sheila outside, her expression

insisted she was simply Timothy's sister-in-law. Now, she didn't seem the least bit

What would people think?

found out, it would

open the car door,"

shuffled over reluctantly, opening the door

isn't home. Why didn't you make breakfast