Work Text:
Martin holds Sarah’s hands as he guides her out of the car. “Aunt Sarah, please keep the blindfold on and your eyes closed.”
“Where are we going?” Sarah asks, not believing she let Martin blindfold her. When he showed up at Geneva’s house this morning, telling her to get ready and that they were going out, she had no idea what he was up to. Geneva has been letting her stay in her spare room after her inconsiderate brother sold her home, forcing her to move out.
“Almost there.” Martin removes the blindfold. “Open them,” he says, waiting for her reaction.
Sarah opens her eyes to see her old house, with a sold sign on it.
“Why did you bring me here?” she exclaims, frustrated. The last place she wants to be is here. Her home that is no longer her home.
“Welcome home,” Martin says as he walks up to the house and unlocks the door, waiting for Sarah to follow him inside. She’s surprised to see all of her things out of storage and unpacked, as if she never left.
“What are you playing at, Martin?” Sarah asks, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I bought your house from Robert and am giving it to you,” Martin replies.
“No, I’m not taking it,” Sarah says heading for the door.
Blocking her exit. “Aunt Sarah, this is your home. It wasn’t right for Robert to sell it out from under you because of his gambling problem.”
Heading to the living room to get away from Martin, Sarah says, “You can’t do this. I don’t need your charity.” She hasn’t needed anybody to take care of her and isn’t going to start depending on handouts now.
Martin walks over and gently takes her hands in his. “You were more of a parent to me than Robert and Vanessa ever were. Would you please take the house? Let me do this, please.” She steps back, letting his words sink in.
“I’m going to pay you back,” she says, deflating, looking around in amazement at how everything is where it should be. Martin had been paying attention when he was here.
“Fine. It’ll cost you a weekly dinner, and you have to eat a vegetable with every meal. I want you around for a long time,” Martin says, smirking. “Besides, someone has to be around to bring whimsy to my kids.”
Whipping around from looking at the pictures on the mantel, Sarah exclaims, “What?”
“Louisa is pregnant. You’re going to be a grandma. That’s nonnegotiable, you are grandma. I want them to have the same opportunity to make happy memories that I did.” Martin smiles, remembering how loved and safe he felt here.
Crying, a flabbergasted Sarah hugs him.