Sarah headed downstairs into the kitchen. Transforming people was thirsty work, and the sodas Jon had brought up had gone flat. And warm. Definitely not a good gift for a guest. After helping herself to so much already, grabbing a drink wasn’t something to bat an eye at. Rooting through the fridge, Sarah had one eye on something good to snack on, and the other in case there was something interesting to pop into her bag. The sudden sound of a key almost making it into a lock made her freeze. She took a deep breath to try to calm her frantic heart and shut the refrigerator door. She turned to face the newcomer as the back door finally opened and an old woman poked her head in and looked around in a way that would have been surreptitious if she wasn’t so obvious. Or so blind.
Sarah’s confidence swelled to her regular level, if not higher. She took a sip of the fresh soda.
“Can I help you?” Sarah asked, with the sarcasm only a teenager, or a person in possession of a few magic items and powers could muster. The old woman zeroed in on the sound and stepped into the kitchen, bracing a hand on the counter as she peered at Sarah.
“You seem a little young to be a burglar. Are you here just for pranks?” The woman said, in an accusatory tone that made Sarah bristle, even though she was here for both, technically. But you don’t become the queen bee of a high school by being rattled easily. Sarah took another sip and set the glass down.
“That’s a dramatic claim.”
“I saw you going through Linda's things. Poking around in the bedroom. Certainly don't look like a cleaning service, and Madison kids are a bit too old for a babysitter like you. So why don't you tell me what you were doing?”
Sarah looked at the accusatory finger, and the spare key in the woman's other hand and smiled. It was not really a nice smile. It was the smile of someone who is used to getting her way figuring out how to get past an obstacle. And it started with a snap.
The key in the woman's hand flew of its own accord to Sarah, who slipped it into the bag. But dropping the key into her little bag wasn’t the end of the movement. Her hand came back out, bearing gifts.
“Linda left this for you, since she knew you were coming by before she got back.” Sarah said with saccharine sweetness as she pulled out the previously acquired birthday card. As soon as the old woman touched it, the years melted away, and the “old” was replaced with young. A presumably twenty-five-year-old was now standing in the Madison's kitchen, wearing an ill-fitting cardigan, a floral house dress, and a worn pair of slippers. Sarah reached into the bag again, pulling out the Madison's spare key and putting it into her own pocket. A small ripple of reality and the woman in front of Sarah smiled.
“Thank you for letting me in. You must be Sarah, Mrs. Madison mentioned that you might be the one to let me in.”
Sarah, now a trusted friend of the Madison family, smiles wider. Shark-like, even.
“Oh, anything I can do to help. Here, this is the uniform.” She reached into the bag again and the French maid costume, er, uniform came out. She handed it to the woman.
“There's a bathroom right around the corner. Why don't you go and get changed?”
The woman began limping towards the bathroom but stood up a lot straighter as Sarah popped the cane leaning outside the door into the bag. The handbag by the door lost a set of knitting needles and the AARP card from its wallet. The cell phone was an older variety, a simplified flip phone but new enough that Sarah was able to send Linda a text, as well as copy the phone numbers for Jon’s parents into her own phone. David was Jon’s father’s name. It was good to learn the names of the people she was transforming.
Tina Abernathy, who lived across the street according to the driver's license, came back dressed in the French maid outfit, with her own clothes neatly folded.
“Where should I put these?” she asked.
“Oh, I'll get them for you," Sarah said and popped them into the bag. Reality rippled again, and Sarah could see in the open wallet business cards appear. Cards matching the one pinned on the cork board next to the calendar, the words “Tina the Maid” clearly visible.
“I think Linda wanted you to focus on the dog hair in the living room for your first day.” Sarah lied. “She'll likely be back before you're done. Jon’s up in his bedroom if you need something, but I think he has a lot of homework, so try not to bother him if you have to. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
With a final parting smirk at the woman who was now fiddling with a vacuum, Sarah stepped out of the kitchen and headed towards the garage.
