That evening Marcus slept through most of the afternoon and woke before five to the sound of Emma arguing with her cardboard house. The circuit was still working, but she wanted to add a second window because she had decided the demonstration should look more like an actual neighborhood. He helped her cut the opening and let her choose where it belonged. Mrs. Alvarez arrived after dinner, carrying a small container of soup for Marcus to take to work.
"How was the presentation?" she asked Emma. Emma lifted her project proudly. "Nobody's light went out," she said, then corrected herself. "Mine didn't. The whole idea is that it still works if something else does go out."
Mrs. Alvarez gave Marcus a knowing look. "That sounds like something her father would say." He smiled, but he did not tell her about the conversation on the twenty-seventh floor. It was easier to think of it as a strange interruption than the beginning of anything he might not be able to promise.
Just before ten, Marcus parked in the employee garage beneath Meridian Tower. He sat for a moment looking at a photograph Emma's teacher had sent to the class families, showing the little girl explaining her cardboard model to three other children. The pride in her face was so complete that he forgot the tiredness in his shoulders. He was about to put the phone away when someone knocked gently on his window.
Natalie Carter stood beside the car, holding a folder against her jacket. Marcus lowered the window at once. "Ms. Carter. Is something wrong with the equipment?"
She smiled. "No. The room is working. I was hoping to ask you about something that might interest you."
He got out, uncertain whether he should be concerned. Natalie explained that the facilities division had reviewed his previous experience and wanted to offer him a paid assessment for a limited maintenance assignment. The words came so unexpectedly that Marcus looked toward the elevator entrance as though she might be speaking to someone behind him. "You mean a proper position?" he asked.
"Possibly," she said. "Not as a favor, and not because you solved one problem. We'd need to see what you know, what you need to learn, and whether we have a suitable opening. Would you be interested in returning to maintenance work?"
Marcus leaned against the side of his old sedan, considering the question. Once, he would have said yes before anyone finished asking. But the memory of his daughter's face as she searched the classroom for him was too fresh. "What would the hours be?" he asked.
Natalie's smile widened slightly. "That's exactly the question I hoped you'd ask. Diane is working with facilities to see whether we can structure a predictable schedule. It wouldn't require you to accept overnight emergency callouts without notice." Marcus looked down at the photograph still glowing on his screen.
"I need to know more about the training," he said. "And the pay, and whether I'd lose the arrangements I already have." Natalie nodded. "You should know all of it before you decide. Take the information home, ask questions, and say no if it doesn't work for your family."