“Yes!”

Still nothing happened.

She was about ready to get something to clean up the floor of the bathroom when a fountain sprayed straight up from the toilet. Sara squealed with laughter and Thomas was smiling, pointing at it to prove his point.

“Something’s wrong,” he said.

“Really?” She nudged him with her arm.

The toilet suddenly seemed to inhale, not flush, sucking all its water down. Then it gurgled and began to fill again. The sounds of pipes straining came again.

“I better tell Mr. Sinclair.”

“It stinks,” Sara said.

“It could be worse,” Thomas told her.

A gush of water sprayed up again from the toilet, making both Lynn and Sara jolt from surprise. This caused them all to start laughing even more. Lynn moved next to the toilet and turned the knob until the water stopped spurting.

“Hope neither of you need to use the restroom this morning,” Lynn said.

As she walked into the living area and toward the kitchen, she thought of last night. One of the customers who’d come in had been very generous. Of course, he’d watched her like a hawk. Perhaps there’d been more to that tip than simple customer satisfaction. But Lynn gladly took it.

“Hey guys,” she said to them as she looked at a bare cupboard. “Want to go out for breakfast?”

Sara screamed in excitement and Thomas asked where.

“How about that family restaurant on the way to school? We can stop by the Sinclairs’ and let them know about the toilet.”

“You sure?” Thomas asked.

Lynn nodded, understanding his question. “Yeah.”

“Let’s go!” Sara was already heading outside.

“Well, let your mother get dressed first, okay?”

It was nice to be out, to be with the kids and ordering from a menu and letting someone else cook for them. Granny’s was only open for breakfast and lunch. They were known for their pancakes and their bakery. Lynn and the kids had never come here since moving, even though they’d passed it by almost daily. It took them a few minutes to get a table.

Lynn remembered those early days after first moving to Georgia when they would go to breakfast after church on Sundays. Thomas was four and Sara was just a baby and Daryl didn’t work on the weekends at the factory. She could still picture her husband ordering the biggest meal they had and wolfing it down like some kind of lumberjack. They’d stay for a while, Daryl drinking coffee and talking more with each cup.

The good old days.

She never would have imagined that so many years later, it would just be the three of them.

Since moving, they had only made it to church a few times. She worked most Sunday mornings. That was the reason she gave the kids for not going. She wasn’t sure if now was the best time to start going to a church, especially since they hadn’t done a great job of that back home. Except for Thomas, of course.