her.
“Don’t you look at him like that. He’s no angel.” Libby swiped a sleeve across her forehead and stood there, jogging up and down. “He screamed all day at the sitter’s.”
“Still working on that tooth, huh?” A gust of cold air swept past and Ann tugged her sweater tight about her.
“It’s going to come in sometime, right? Tell me it’s going to come in.”
“It’s going to come in. Before he goes to college, for sure.”
“Funny.” Libby reached for the bottle of water from the cup holder strapped to the stroller handle. “Did you hear H5N1’s in Spain now?”
It wasn’t just the flu anymore. That term was too benign, summoning up all those years where the flu was just something most people didn’t think of unless they came down with it. Now it was H5N1. “It’s just a small outbreak.”
“Yeah, but it’s the third one this month.” Libby tilted back her head and drank.
“Well, at this time of year, we are going to see outbreaks from time to time.”
“And our being in Phase Four doesn’t freak you out?” Libby ran a hand below her mouth, catching a drip.
It had, at first. Ann had run out with everyone else and loaded up on the essentials. She’d taken the girls in for flu shots. But things had gradually quieted. Doctors overseas were containing the isolated cases that popped up. Scientists around the world were working on a vaccine. Little by little, other events started to take over the headlines. Terrorist activity in Japan. Two missing tourists. An E. coli outbreak. Life, such as it was, had returned to normal.
“Not really. It’s not until we start seeing major, simultaneous outbreaks that we should be concerned.”
Libby grimaced. “You sound like Peter.” As soon as she said it, a horrified look crossed her face.
INSIDE, THE PHONE WAS RINGING. “ANYONE GETTING THAT?” Ann called.
“I will,” Maddie called back.
Ann shut the door behind her and kicked off her shoes. Padding down the hall, she paged through the mail, stopping at the thick envelope with her attorney’s name printed in the corner. “Hi, Grandma,” she heard Maddie say.
It was an unusual time for her mother to call. Maybe she had news. Ann hurried into the kitchen and found Maddie holding the cordless phone as she wandered around the kitchen while Kate sat at the table, textbook opened before her.
“It was a real fire,” Maddie was saying. “Mom saved Heyjin’s life.” Pause. “Heyjin’s a new girl in my class. She’s from Korea.” She listened. “No, but one of the bulletin boards in the science room melted.”
Ann held out her hand.
Maddie said, “Mom’s here. Love you, Grandma. See you soon.”
Ann took the phone. “Mom? Is Dad okay?”
“Oh, he’s fine. Well, he had some trouble breathing yesterday, but the doctor said that was to be expected. He fit us in right away. Wasn’t that nice of him?”
There her mother went, sounding like a ditz so as not to worry anyone.
Maddie sat down at the kitchen table across from Kate and picked up her pencil.
“Very nice,” Ann said. “So everything’s okay?”
“Oh, yes. Sounds like you’re the one who had all the excitement today.”
“Only for an hour. Then everything went back to normal.”
“Maddie said something about you having to rescue one of the children?”
“Yes.” Ann realized Maddie was listening intently, head tilted, pencil slack. She stepped outside, the pavers cold beneath her stockinged feet, and closed the sliding glass door behind her. The aluminum chairs still ringed the patio table. This year, putting them away would be her job. She dragged one out and sat, setting the bundle of mail on the table in front of her. She tucked her feet beneath her. “A little girl from Korea. She has a phobia about being outside. She’s afraid she’s going to get bird flu like her father.”
“Bird flu! Here?”
“No, no. Back in Korea.”
“Oh, the poor little thing. It’s gotten worse over there, you
Bob Brooks, Karen Ross Ohlinger