Mouse was in a bit of a quandary. The door to her room opened soundlessly, noiselessly, but the same wasn't so when it was closed; the sound of the mechanism shutting made a distinct and loud noise, audible all over the apartment. She was in her room, and her door was open, and Henry and Madeleine were talking, and she could hear every word. And they weren't really talking, they were sort of arguing, actually. And they probably didn't know she could hear them, but she could. But if she shut her door so she couldn't, then they would know that she'd heard every word up to that point, because they'd definitely hear the sound of her door closing.

She'd been there about a week, and had settled in, for the most part. It was fairly late, and Leo was asleep. His door was closed, Mouse knew, because she'd closed it herself. Besides, Leo slept the sleep of the dead, like most small children; Mouse knew he wasn't going to be awakened by the loud voices.

No, this was her issue alone.

Perhaps she should go into her bathroom? Run a bath or something? That would be the polite, ethical thing to do. But, she had to admit, she was curious about their argument. And it was about Leo, at least peripherally, so maybe she should listen? Her light was off, so it probably looked like she was asleep; if they heard her door close, they'd know she was awake and could hear.

Madeleine was speaking again, her smooth accent somehow sounding more irritated than an American voice would. "All I'm saying is that she's been here a week, she's obviously great with him, you trust her, so why? Why can't we leave him this time?" There was a brief silence, then she continued. "Do you realize we've never had a holiday alone, not even a mini-break?"

"Don't," came Henry's voice. Mouse could tell, after knowing him such a short time, that he was trying to keep his voice down. "You knew about Leo when we met, so don't try to make me feel guilty, okay? He's my main concern, my--"

"Yes, I know, he's your priority," and Mouse could hear how Madeleine bit the last word off, how clipped and harsh the "t" sound was. "And I think that's wonderful, it's one of the things I admire about you, honestly, but Henry--" brief silence "--we've never been alone, just the two of us, ever. I don't see why we can't now. He's four years old, for god's sake! When I spend the night with you, he's here, and on the rare occasions when you come to my place, he comes with you, you refuse to even hire a sitter."

Mouse heard clinking sounds, and she knew Henry was pouring himself a drink. "I told you, he's too young, he's lost too much--"

"Please! He's not too young," Madeleine replied. "I have friends with children barely older than Leo who go to boarding school, Henry, and they're perfectly fine--"

"Are you suggesting I send my four-year-old toddler away to boarding school?" Henry's tone was scathing.

"No, obviously not." Now Madeleine merely sounded tired. "Look, I just want to go on a holiday with my boyfriend, a grown-up, adult trip, not a children's cruise, or an outing to an amusement park or whatever. I want to be able to get dressed up and go out to have a cocktail and a nice dinner, or to see a show without worrying about a child's bedtime, is that unreasonable?" Her voice got softer. "I get that it wasn't possible until now. But you've got that girl now, and it is, so why can't we? Hm?"

Even from his bedroom, all the way at the other end of the apartment and down the hall, Mouse could hear Henry sigh. "I'll think about it, okay? Summer's a busy time for the agency, too, you know?"

"I know," Madeleine said, and Mouse thought she could hear complacency and smugness in her voice. "I think they'll be fine together, though, honestly, Leo and that Mousey person."

Silence.

Then, "Could you please not call her that?"

By now, Mouse was sitting on her bed in the dark, listening raptly. She wasn't even pretending not to.

"What?" Madeleine laughed, a low sound with just a hint of mockery in it. "That's her name, isn't it? Leo berated me for not using it on the very first day."

"You know what I'm talking about. Her name is Mouse. When you add the "y", you turn it into an adjective with a derogatory meaning."

"Henry, come on!" Madeleine's voice now held surprise. "Adding a "y" to a person's name, especially a girl's name, is the most common thing in the world! Kate becomes Katey, Chris becomes Chrissy, even my name becomes Maddy, you've called me that thousands of times." She laughed again, a high, tittering sound this time that made mouse tense up where she sat. "So, logically, Mouse becomes Mousey, I see no harm."

Mouse heard the sound of a drawer shutting, hard, then Henry's voice. "This is one of the things I hate about you, Madeleine, how you can turn so vitriolic and nasty so quickly."

"What?" Again, her accent was so sharp, so posh, like knives to Mouse's ear. "Henry, I can't believe me making a perfectly reasonable request for a holiday with my boyfriend has degenerated into an argument over the nomenclature of your domestics."

"Dammit, she's not a domestic, you know that!" Henry's voice had gotten lower than Mouse had ever heard it.

"Oh Henry, now you're just deflecting," Madeleine said in a weary voice. "If you don't want to discuss a holiday with me that doesn't include your son, just say so, but please don't try to obfuscate by bringing up topics that are irrelevant to the issue at hand."

"I'm not, dammit, and you know it!" Henry returned. "You do this, every time, you do this--"

"We're getting nowhere," Madeleine said. "I'm going to sleep at my place tonight, I don't think either one of us will get a good night's sleep if I stay here." A brief silence, the sound of a zip, then, "Good night, Henry, I'll talk to you tomorrow, all right?"

"Yes, okay." Silence. "Good night."

Mouse heard Madeleine go by her door. It seemed like it was dark enough that Madeleine didn't notice her door was open, because the footfalls didn't falter. She heard the front door open and close, and shortly after that she saw the light in Henry's room go out. She herself was wide awake, so she decided to go out and grab a glass of wine to help her unwind.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she ran into something soft and warm in the kitchen. She gave a little scream as she lurched into the counter, going down to the tile floor rather hard.

"Oh my god, Mouse?" The light flipped on and she found herself squinting up into Henry's surprised face. He reached down to help her up, looking concerned. "Jesus! Are you okay? I'm so sorry!"

"Oh, ouch," Mouse said miserably, rubbing her hip and bottom. "Why are you apologizing? It's not your fault, honestly. I shouldn't be wandering around in the dark, you know?"

"Well, I shouldn't either, then," Henry replied. "What were you after? Midnight snack?"

Mouse gestured to the wine glass he'd filled for himself, the one he thankfully hadn't picked up yet when Mouse ran into him in the dark. Henry grabbed another glass and filled it for her. She thanked him, and they took their glasses to the dark family room, where it seemed natural for them to sit.

She wasn't sure if she should mention Madeleine's absence or not. What kind of etiquette was involved in situations like this? While she was pondering what to say, Henry brought it up himself.

"So, how much of what just happened did you hear?" he asked.

Mouse took a sip, to give herself time to think of a reply.

"I'm going to assume you know Madeleine was here, and that we argued, and she left," Henry continued. "I'm just asking if you know what we argued about."

Mouse realized that Henry was feeling the effects of whatever it was he'd drunk in his bedroom, before he'd come out for the wine. He was a little tipsy, and therefore a little more open than usual.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," she finally said. "My door wasn't all the way closed, so I could hear. I didn't intend to, and I certainly won't repeat any of it, you know that, right?"

"I'm not worried about anything like that," Henry replied. "I'm just sorry that you had to hear it."

"Do you guys argue like that a lot?" Mouse ventured. "I mean, has Leo heard you?"

Henry shrugged. "I honestly don't know. We try to be careful, and most of it happens when he's asleep, but things can get pretty snipey in front of him, too, I suppose. It's hard for Madeleine, you know? She's in the prime of her life, so to speak, and she could have anyone she wanted. She's beautiful, well educated, wealthy, and she's been with me for over a year, so she must be feeling pretty frustrated."

"Why?" Mouse asked.

"What do you mean?" Henry asked.

"I mean 'why'?" Mouse repeated. "You had Leo when you met, like you--like you said, right?" She felt awkward acknowledging that she'd heard their argument. "And he's your child. She can't expect you to put his needs second to hers, can she? Is she really expecting that?"

"You think that's unreasonable?" Henry seemed surprised.

"Yeah, I do," Mouse replied, draining her glass and rising for another. She returned quickly, continuing her words. "When you're dating, before marriage and all that, you put yourself first. Then, when you meet your person, whomever that might be, and you get together, decide to get married, if that's your thing, you put that person first, right?" She took a swallow of her wine. "But then, after you have kids, well, they come first, forever," she concluded. "That's the way it has to be. That's what I was taught, anyway, by my parents." She wondered if she'd said too much.

"I hope I didn't offend you?" she finally said into the long silence. It was dark where they were sitting, as they hadn't bothered to turn on any lights, so she couldn't even see his face to read his expression.

"No, not at all," Henry replied immediately. "I'm just trying to digest your words. Most of the people around me don't think that way, that's all." Mouse could feel rather than see him shrug in the near darkness. "They seem to love their kids, those who have kids, but they definitely have them compartmentalized, I guess is the right word."

Now it was Mouse's turn to shrug. "I know different people raise their kids differently, and it's not my business..." she trailed off.

"Well, this is your business," Henry said firmly. He reached out and gripped her hand where it lay across the back of the sofa. "Leo is your business, that's what I pay you for, so speak up, please."

Mouse took a deep breath, trying to ignore the tingle from his hand on hers. "Okay. I think that Leo should always be your first priority, no matter what, that you owe it to him, especially since you're his only parent. He needs that from you, and what's more, he deserves it. So I think you should give him as much as you want, and you shouldn't let anyone, no matter how beautiful or well-educated or whatever she is, make you feel guilty for that."

Henry let out a deep breath that had a laugh on the end of it, and Mouse could smell the whiskey and wine on it. "Wow, way to let it out, Mouse!"

Mouse was heartened to hear the laugh, because she really felt she'd overstepped that time. She wondered if the wine wasn't going to her head a little bit as well, and if she'd regret having spoken so openly in the morning.

"Leo tells me you have a boyfriend," Henry said, changing the subject, giving Mouse's fingertips a little shake.

"No," Mouse said, nearly snarfing her wine at his words. "He's an ex, we broke up."

"Right, right, sorry, he did say 'ex'," Henry corrected himself. "You're 'still friends,' though, right?"

"Yeah, still friends," Mouse echoed, nodding, though she realized that Henry probably couldn't see her.

"Do you date a lot?" Henry asked.

Mouse snorted. "Hardly. My nickname is 'Mouse,' remember? And my real name's Martha? I'm not exactly dating material." She hadn't intended to sound quite so bitter, but between the wine and the darkness, the words she was selecting were cutting a bit close to the bone, she realized.

"What on earth does that mean?" Henry asked. "You're young, you go to a vibrant, great school, you live in a huge city, you're a wonderful girl, I'm sure you have lots of opportunities to date? Am I being too nosey? Is this awkward for you? I only ask because someone at work said I should find out if you might possibly have overnight company or whatever, that it's easier if I know in advance." He sounded apologetic.

"Oh." Mouse finished her third glass of wine and set it down, resolving not to fill it again. "No, no worries on that front. I don't date much at all, I'm not dating anyone currently."

"Okay. Again, sorry for being so nosey." He patted her hand and released it. Mouse instantly missed his touch.

She rose abruptly. "I should get to bed. I mean, tomorrow's Saturday, but Leo will probably be up at the crack of dawn, you know?" She turned toward Henry in the dark. "Good night, Henry."

He rose, too, and took a couple of steps forward. His hug felt natural and right, again, perhaps because of the darkness and the wine.

Mouse let go as soon as he did, though she was a little short of breath from the closeness of him, the firmness of his body under her cheek.

Yikes.

"Good night, Mouse. Thanks for the talk."

She went to her room, where, even with all the wine she'd consumed, she had a hard time falling asleep.