The Things That Keep Us Here (8 page)

Out in the hallway, a man and a woman trooped up the stairs toward him. He recognized them as his next-door neighbors, both college students. Peter had learned to work late on weekend nights to avoid the inevitable parties and to close his ears to their early-morning lovemaking. They pressed themselves against the wall to let Peter and his bags squeeze past.

“Take care,” the woman said.

First time she’d ever spoken to him. It sounded so final. Peter nodded. “You too.”

She continued up the stairs, the man’s arm around her shoulders.

The streets had perked up during his brief absence. The coffee shop on the corner was doing a brisk business. People thronged the patio and overflowed onto the sidewalk, chatting as they waited for their morning brew. People swooped past on bikes. Others walked hand in hand down the sidewalks. Downtown was beginning to have a carnival air about it, everyone hanging out, enjoying the unexpected day off from school and work.

Peter shook his head and loaded his bags into the back of the pickup.

He drove by playgrounds that an hour before had been empty. Kids ran everywhere, calling out to one another. Their parents stood in idle clusters, rocking strollers and no doubt negotiating how to manage this day and all the suddenly school-free days to follow. Movie theaters would be swamped. So would the mall, fast-food restaurants, the library, and rec center, anyplace that welcomed kids. A mistake.

This wasn’t the time for celebration. These people shouldn’t be standing out here, laughing, gossiping. He considered stopping, rolling down his window, and telling them to go home. But of course he didn’t. They wouldn’t listen. They’d think he was a madman.

“LISTEN TO THIS.” SHAZIA SAT ON THE FLOOR IN THE CORNER
of the den, laptop balanced on her knees, her hair loose about her shoulders. She was playing with her barrette, snapping and unsnapping it. “RNL is working on a vaccine.”

“Who isn’t?” Peter looked back to his computer screen and typed a few commands. He had to download his lectures for the week and then post the exam. It was all master’s-level work. At that point, students could be expected to follow the honor system.

“But it looks like they may have something. They’ve already moved on to Phase Two of clinical trials.”

Peter swiveled in his chair to look at her. “Really?”

She nodded. “A Dr. Liederman’s leading it.”

“Albert Liederman?”

“You know him?”

“My old doctoral advisor. I haven’t talked to him in months.” Which had been a worry. Over the course of the past year, Liederman had stopped attending conferences and returning phone calls. Peter had thought the old fellow was slowing down, but now it seemed he had simply diverted his energies elsewhere. “I’ve been after him for years to write a memoir about the ’78 influenza outbreak. We came that close to a full-blown pandemic.” He held up his thumb and forefinger pinched together.

“In 1978?”

She had probably never even heard about it. Few people had.

“You should hear him talk about it. That guy could send shivers down your spine.”

But talk was all Liederman would do. How many times had he grumbled, “I can’t write a book, Brooks. That’s your job.”

Peter leaned back in his chair. “He gave me his notes a while ago. Told me to take a crack at putting together a book. Maybe you could help me organize the material.”

“I’d like that.”

He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye, and he looked over to see Ann standing in the doorway of the den. “Want to light the grill?”

Shazia set down her laptop. “I’ll help.”

“Stay put.” Peter waved his hand. “Tonight I’m cooking.”

Shazia looked at him. “That’ll be nice.”

He knew what she was thinking. What kind of dish could she expect from a guy who ate from vending machines and take-out restaurants?

Peter walked beside Ann down the hall. “I might have found Shazia a place. The school’s going to open up Baldwin Hall. I persuaded them to take her even if she’s not on the official list.”

“It’s too bad she won’t be with her roommate.”

“There’ll be other international students there. She’ll know someone.”

Maddie sprawled on her belly in front of the television set. He had no idea what shows were her favorites these days. He’d never seen this particular one before, something involving preteen girls arguing with a man in a hotel uniform. He stopped beside the couch where Kate sat, laptop propped before her. His old computer, outdated but powerful enough for her to play around on. “Who are you talking to?”

She answered without looking up. “Michele. Claire. John. Andrea. Scooter.”

He looked over at Ann. “John? Scooter?” These weren’t names he’d heard before. What kind of name was Scooter? He couldn’t even tell what gender it belonged to.

“John is Michele’s boyfriend.” Ann handed him a platter of hamburger patties. “And Scooter’s a boy in one of Kate’s classes.”

Peter looked down at Kate. Pink blossomed across her cheekbones as she stared at her computer screen. He glanced back at Ann. She was frowning slightly. Then she shook her head.
Don’t say anything
, she was telegraphing, and he nodded.

So soon. He slid open the screen door and stepped out onto the patio. Too soon. Kate had just turned thirteen. He looked back through the glass at his daughter cross-legged on the sofa, coltish, long brown hair falling forward. She tapped gracefully at the keyboard, her hands all smooth motion, sitting back and laughing. The sight of it made his heart twist.

He turned the dial and was glad to see the answering flame. He hadn’t thought to check the propane level. He shoveled the burgers onto the grill and set down the empty platter.

It was a crisp evening, cold enough to cloud his breath into soft puffs. Streetlights burned up and down the dark sidewalks. He’d missed the sunset.

A dark SUV glided past. The driver lifted his hand in greeting. It was that doctor who lived beside the Guarnieris, what was his name? Singh. That was it. He’d moved into the neighborhood a few months before Peter moved out. They used to nod politely at each other as they crisscrossed their lawns with mowers. The vehicle slowed in front of the driveway and Peter saw a figure step in front of the headlights, followed by a smaller, shaggier shape.

Walter Finn and his dog. The animal was genial enough, but you couldn’t say the same about the man. Finn was forever circulating petitions against one thing or another: too many weeds in a neighbor’s yard, bikes left scattered across sidewalks, snow going unshoveled, all the petty grievances that sprang up in a suburban community, which most people ignored but onto which Finn fastened greedy claws.

Peter stabbed at the burgers and flipped them over.

The dog tugged at his leash, wanting to come over and investigate the meat he was cooking. Finn lifted his head and spotted Peter standing conspicuously against the bright light shining from the kitchen behind him. Peter braced himself for another round of what’s-this-neighborhood-coming-to, but Finn jerked the leash instead and tugged the dog away.

“Heel, Barney,” he ordered, and the dog shambled over to check out who’d been visiting the tree on the far corner.

Peter had been afforded a reprieve. Finn must have figured out he wasn’t the go-to guy of the house any longer. Turning back to the grill, he saw Smith standing at his own grill just across the yard.

“Dude,” Smith said. “Good to see you.”

“Been a while.”

“Crazy times, huh? Libby sent me out for water today, but all I could find was that fizzy designer stuff.”

“I got lucky at a gas station on Franz. A delivery truck was just unloading when I pulled up. We’ve got extra you can have.”

“I’ll take you up on that. Libby’s been a wreck about it.”

They talked back and forth across their patios. Would the NFL adjust to a few missed games? How much farther would the Dow Jones skid before recovering? Was there any end in sight to the price of gas? Libby came out, the baby in her arms, and handed Smith a platter.

“Hey,” Peter said.

“Hello,” she said coolly.

Well, at least she wasn’t pretending he was invisible. This was progress. Peter pushed his luck. “Jacob’s gotten big.” Last time he’d seen the baby, he’d been cradled easily in one arm. Now the kid straddled Libby’s hip, reaching forward with one plump hand for the piece of bun Smith held out.

Smith said, “Gonna grow up to be a linebacker, just like his old man.”

The coals glowed softly. The smell of cooked meat rose. Peter pressed the spatula beneath the hamburgers and lifted them onto a plate. Picking up the platter, he dialed off the heat.

“Hey,” Smith said. “I got an idea. Why don’t you guys come over?”

An old tradition, combining their cookouts onto one patio or dining room.

“Smith,” Libby said.

“Jeez, Libby. Come on. If Ann’s cool with it—”

“Actually,” Peter said, “Libby’s right. We should probably be keeping our distance.” Silence.

“Christ.” Smith’s voice came to him out of the darkness. “Right. I guess I saw something about that on the news. You really think it’ll do any good?”

“It’s all we can do.”

The clatter of a grill lid lowered into place. “Well, good to see you, Peter.”

“You too.”

Peter looked around at all the houses, large, dark squares rising out of the ground, windows glowing bright, islands separated by lawns and closed doors. The empty patios, the tables with the chairs stacked and the umbrellas furled. No one else was out enjoying the spate of clear weather.

He looked back at his own house. Through the glass he saw into the kitchen—Ann reaching down a stack of plates from the cabinet, Maddie collecting her drawing materials, Kate pouring a glass of milk. It all appeared normal, but it wasn’t. Everything had changed.

TWELVE

A
NN STEPPED OUT INTO THE BRIGHT NOON SUN. ZIPPING
her coat, she scanned the grass. A sharp rap on the glass made her look over. Libby stood waving behind the window next door. She held up a finger—
hold on
. Sure enough, a few moments later, Libby came out through the front door, pulling on her puffy blue coat. She stopped in the middle of the lawn and stood there, facing Ann across the grass. “I’ve been wanting to call, but Smith’s had the phone all day. How are you?”

“Fine. How are you? How’s Jacob?”

“Just peachy. He adores having Mommy home twenty-four-seven. Mommy, however, wants to bang her head against the wall, repeatedly, until she’s unconscious.” She put a hand on her hip. “But that’s not what I asked you. Come on, Ann. How are you, really?”

“I’m okay. Really.”

“Uh-huh.” She hiked an eyebrow. “I see Peter’s still here.” She shook her head. “What were you thinking, letting him come back and bringing that girl with him? Don’t you think you’ve got enough going on without having to deal with him and his I-don’t-love-you-anymore crap?”

Actually, that wasn’t what Peter had said, Ann wanted to protest. What he had said was,
I love you, but I’m not in love with you anymore
. Ann would have settled for that; she
had
settled for it.

“It’s not that simple. He can’t find a place for Shazia. He’s tried everywhere.” The university hadn’t been able to find the staff to open additional dormitories. Soon, the housing administrator kept promising Peter. Soon.

“Why doesn’t she just move in with him?”

“His place is too small.”

“Serves him right.”

“Listen, if one of my daughters was stranded in a foreign country, I’d want someone to take her in.”

The look on Libby’s face softened instantly. “Well, of course you would. Sorry. I’m being a bitch, I guess. It’s been only a few days and already I’m stir-crazy.”

“Tell me about it. Maddie and Kate have been sniping at each other all morning.” Ann spotted the newspaper on top of the lilac bush. “This is a new one,” she said, stretching up to tug it free.

“The delivery guy doesn’t get out of the car, you know. He just wings it out the window. Pretty soon, he’ll just dump the whole lot on the corner and let us paw through.”

WHEN ANN CAME BACK INTO THE KITCHEN, SHE FOUND THE
table empty. The girls had fled, leaving behind their books and worksheets. Where were they?

Peter walked down the hall toward her. “Have you seen the phone?”

“Maddie had it last.” A shout came from outside. Setting the newspaper on the counter, Ann walked over to the sliding glass door and looked out.

“God. It could be anywhere, then.” Peter got to his hands and knees to look under the coffee table.

There the girls were, jumping on the trampoline. “What are they doing?”

“Taking a break. Kate said you said they could.”

Ann was annoyed. Peter should have seen right through that one. “They just had a break. They’ve got to finish their homework.”

“What’s a few minutes? It’s good for them to burn off a little excess energy.”

“They don’t have excess energy. They have assignments due at three.” She slid open the door. “Kate! Maddie!”

Maddie sat in the middle of the trampoline while Kate made huge jumps all around her. They were both laughing. Kate turned. She wobbled on the elastic surface of the trampoline, grinning at Ann standing there in the doorway. “Five more minutes?”

Ann couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen the two girls getting along like this. She couldn’t possibly order them back inside. How terrible would it be if she ended up emailing their homework in a little late? At least they were doing it.

“All right. Zip up your coats, both of you.” She shut the door and glanced at the television. Sound muted, it was showing the same video clip it had been showing all day: masked people lined up outside a clinic. How many of them would test positive?

She moved to the refrigerator. “Have you heard anything new?”

“They’re working on sequencing.”

Ann imagined it, lab-coated scientists bent over lab equipment, not even taking a break to eat or sleep.
Good
. They could eat and sleep later. The cases in Mexico had been confirmed, people who’d slipped into the country before the air travel restrictions had been imposed. She thought of the virus silently creeping its way across the vast border that stretched between this country and Mexico. Ohio was a long way from the border, though. Maybe the flu would be halted in its tracks before it got anywhere near Columbus. She shivered. “I thought we’d have chicken tonight. We can still eat that, can’t we?”

“Definitely.” He began digging among the sofa cushions.

That was a relief. She’d hate to throw it out. “Have you talked to your brother yet?”

“I emailed him, but I haven’t heard anything.”

Mike was good about staying in touch. Even after Peter moved out, Mike emailed the girls regularly and, like as not, included a note to Ann. “Do you think they have him doing hazardous duty?”

“You know Mike. He can never say what he’s doing.”

Ann still had a hard time picturing such a jovial guy as a codecracking spy. She wondered how Bonni and little Mikey were doing. Although Mikey wasn’t so little anymore. Last time he visited, the teenager had towered over Ann.

“I called your mom a few weeks ago to wish her happy birthday,” Ann said. “The girls got on the phone with her, too.”

Ruth Brooks had had no idea who they were. “Kate?” she’d said.

“Maddie
who?”

“That’s nice,” Peter said.

Ann didn’t know what nice was anymore. Was it at all kind to call and force her mother-in-law to face all that she was forgetting? Or was it kinder to abandon her to what little memory she retained? Ann removed a can of crushed tomatoes from the pantry and found the garlic.

The phone rang, startling them both.

“Aha.” Peter stood up. “Here we go. Want me to answer it?”

How awful. There he stood, phone in hand, asking permission. She hated this awkwardness. It was a miserable reminder of how things had failed between them. She merely nodded.

“Hey,” Peter said into the phone. He chuckled.

Obviously someone he knew. She peeled the garlic and squeezed it through the press.

“I know, I know.” Peter stood by the glass door, watching the girls play. “I’ve been meaning to call, too.”

His voice had a friendly, almost conspiratorial tone. This was no business call. It had to be one of Ann’s friends. She stood there, can opener in hand, waiting for him to speak again so she could guess whom he was talking to.

“I was as surprised as anyone when WHO went to Phase Five.” A small laugh. “No, they didn’t consult me first.”

Someone he liked, that was evident. Someone he hadn’t talked to in a while. She caught herself. Was she really eavesdropping? How horrible. She set the chicken breasts back into the refrigerator to marinate and went into the laundry room, where she could no longer hear Peter’s voice.

The jeans were piling up again. Sometimes the girls didn’t even bother to wear them; they just consigned them to the dirty pile. Well, Kate could learn how to use the washing machine. Ann could start her on the basics, like towels. And Maddie was certainly old enough to sort socks and put things on hangers. It would be good for both of them to accept a little responsibility.

Peter poked his head around the door and held out the phone. “It’s Beth.”

So that explained his happy voice. Ann took the phone. “Hey.”

“Peter sounds terrific.” The pleasure in her sister’s voice was unmistakable. Beth had always liked Peter. She’d once told Ann she thought of him as the brother they’d never had. “He says you’re letting him and his student stay until he can find her temporary housing.”

Ann closed the door and leaned on it. “She’s more than just his student.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Wow.”

A world of sympathy floated within that single word. Ann pressed the receiver to her ear. “You should see her, Beth. She’s so young and pretty and … nice.”

“Well, that sucks. Don’t tell me she’s rich, too.”

Ann laughed despite herself. “I have to admit they’ve been pretty circumspect. I don’t think the girls have put it together yet.”

“I should hope not. Maybe this is just one of those things he has to get out of his system.”

Beth was just like their mother, hoping against hope that Peter would see the light and change his mind. It came from their fondness for Peter, not out of any real understanding of the situation.

“Beth, he still wants the divorce.” After all this time, why was it still so hard to say that word? “The papers came a few days ago. I don’t know whether I should mail them or hold off until things calm down. I tried my lawyer’s office and left a message, but no one’s called me back.”

“What does Mom say?”

“I haven’t told her yet. I was going to when we came for Thanksgiving.” Was Thanksgiving even worth celebrating now? As soon as she had the thought, she dismissed it. Maddie loved holidays, all causes for celebration, even Groundhog Day. She was always urging Ann to decorate and make special things to eat. Even though there’d be no turkey or pumpkin pie, even though they’d be stuck here and not with her parents, they’d be together, she and the girls. That was worth being thankful for.

“Well, I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to,” Beth said.

“Thanks. So, how come you’re not at the hotel?”

“Carlos let me take the day off.”

Her boss never let her take a day off from the front desk. It was as though he thought Beth was the only one who could check guests in. Ann reached for the basket of clean clothes and began folding.

“How come?”

“That big convention we had scheduled canceled. Most of housekeeping didn’t show for work yesterday. Neither did room service. Which turned out to be okay, since we didn’t get our food service delivery. Everything’s a mess.”

Ann ran a hand across the soft flannel of Maddie’s pajamas. “You need to be careful. Don’t hang around crowds—”

“I know, I know. Carlos makes everyone wear these stupid masks and gloves all the time. No wonder we don’t have any guests.”

Ann heard a soft sucking noise and frowned. Was Beth smoking again?

“I’m having trouble getting Dad’s prescriptions filled,” Beth said. “The insurance company will pay for only one month’s worth, so we asked the doctor to intervene. It still didn’t do any good. We ended up paying full price and hoping the insurance company reimburses us later. Talk about a pain in the ass.”

“What about you? Are the grocery stores open? Do you have enough food?”

Beth snorted. “Since when do I ever have any food?”

True. Her younger sister seemed to subsist on diet soda and hastily grabbed meals from the employee cafeteria. Her refrigerator probably contained an ancient box of baking soda and a bag of withered carrots. “You’d better stock up.”

“Relax. Mom could feed an entire army. But that’s not why I called.”

Ann set down Kate’s turtleneck. “What is it? Is Dad okay?”

“He’s coughing some, but he’s not running a fever. It could be just a cold, but I’m taking him to see his oncologist. I wanted to let you know.”

“I appreciate that. Call me later, okay?”

“Sure. Love you, big sister.”

Ann smiled. Beth could never pass up an opportunity to tease her about being the older, and therefore more decrepit, sister. Only fourteen months separated them, but this was payback for all those early years when Ann boasted that she was the authority because she was older. Beth had been utterly gleeful when she realized that at some future point being older wouldn’t necessarily be so desirable, and she’d been hammering at that discovery ever since. “Love you, too.”

Ann set down the receiver and walked into the kitchen. A burst of laughter came from the backyard. There was Maddie’s giggle and Kate’s chortle, but what was that higher-pitched noise? Ann glanced out the window. Kate was doing a flip. Ann had told her a million times not to do that unless a grown-up was present, but there she was curling herself into a ball in midair. Maddie sat along the perimeter, clapping and yelling. Kate landed, arms outstretched, toppling backward into another girl.

There were
three
children jumping up and down, bumping into one another. Was she seeing things? No, there were definitely three bodies leaping around. Her stomach dropped. Who was that third child?

She yanked open the door and stepped out onto the patio. “Kate! Maddie! Come here right this instant!”

Kate stopped and looked, but Maddie, oblivious, continued jumping up and down in great big pushes. As Ann watched, she reached out her hands toward the third child.

“Madeline Ruth Brooks!” Ann marched across the grass and clapped her hands. “That’s
one!”

Maddie stopped jumping so suddenly she fell back against the net.

“That’s
two!”

“Okay, okay. I’m coming.”

Kate was already scrambling through the opening in the mesh. Both girls came running across the yard toward her, leaving the third person to walk unsteadily across the surface of the trampoline to watch Kate and Maddie’s progress, hooking her fingers through the net and pressing her face against it. “Hi, Mrs. Brooks.”

Ann’s heart was thumping. “You need to go home, Jodi. You can’t play on the trampoline anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Haven’t your parents explained to you?”

Jodi climbed down from the trampoline.

“Mom,” Kate whispered, “her parents aren’t home. They’re in Las Vegas. Her grandma and grandpa are watching her.”

She’d forgotten that.

Jodi trudged over to where Ann stood.

“I’m sorry, Jodi,” Ann said. She really was. “But you’ll have to go home.”

The child shrugged and turned away. “We’ll talk to you later,” Kate said. Jodi lifted a shoulder and let it fall.

Kate whirled around. “Why did you have to yell like that? It was so humiliating.”

Ann pulled the girls inside and shoved the door closed. She snapped the lock. “What were you two thinking? I’ve told you, no playdates.” The girls didn’t even like Jodi. Why would they play with her now, of all times?