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“I really need to check on some things,” Max told Lana. “Some people.”
“Go ahead. I can go with—Fred? Is that short for Fredrica?”
“Short for Freddie. My mom was like a huge Freddie Mercury fan. You know, Queen?”
Lana let out a laugh. “Yes. And I’d really like to look around, see the house.”
“It’s right across the street. See?” She pointed over and up a few houses to a two-story white brick with a porch. “It used to be bigger. See?” she said again. “They made the other part of it into apartments. They’re kind of dated and need work, but the house part’s pretty good.”
“I’d love to see it.”
Lana tipped her face up to kiss Max. “Do what you have to do.” And she went with Fred.
“I live right there. Arlys and I share that house.”
“Did you meet her on the way here?”
“No, we worked together in New York. I was an intern at the station. Chuck lives over there—he has the basement, and Bill and Jonah live there, too. Arlys and I got to Hoboken to Chuck—he’s a hacker, he was her main source.”
“How did you get to Hoboken?”
“Through the PATH tunnels.”
Lana stopped in the middle of the street. “You went through the tunnel? Just you and Arlys?”
“We had to. It was bad. Some of it was really bad, but it’s over now, and we got to Chuck, and he has a Humvee, and we got out. He’s trying to get communications up again. If anybody can … We met Jonah and Rachel and Katie and the babies on the way. I love babies. And we went all the way to Ohio because Arlys’s family—but…”
“I’m sorry.”
Dangling earrings with multicolored beads swayed on Fred’s ears. “But we found Bill, and he came with us. We left signs for Will. And we met Lloyd and Rainbow and … I know I’m talking a lot. I’m excited.”
“So am I.”
Steps led straight off the sidewalk to the porch. Fred opened the door. “Somebody remodeled it, that open floor plan thing.”
“Yes.”
It was airy, Lana thought, and had decent light even with the small front windows.
“You can switch out the furniture if you want. Nobody minds if you switch things with another of the empty places. There won’t be so many empty now. I’m glad.”
“I can work with this. I’m so grateful for this.”
Whoever lived there had had clean, simple tastes. A sofa covered in a gray that made her think of Max’s eyes, chairs in a pattern of gray and navy blue. Tables of dark wood on a floor of golden oak. A fireplace with a wide mantel over it.
But the kitchen pulled at her. They’d carried the flooring through so it read as one flowing space, areas defined by a counter of cream-colored wood covered in deep gray granite.
She wandered in, clutched her hands together at the six-burner stove, the stainless appliances, the generous counter space. Double ovens, she thought, and wide atrium doors to bring in more light.
“It’s a good kitchen.”
“Everything’s dusty, but—”
“We’ll clean it. It’s a good house. There’s a nice yard. They said there’s a community garden. Are there herbs?”
“Sure. We had to start a lot of them from seed, but we’ve got lots of herbs.”
“I wonder if I can get some seed, or transplant some. Who would I ask?”
“I’m sort of in charge of that, so sure. Do you want to see upstairs?”
“Yes.”
“Katie said you were a chef in New York.”
“I was. A sous chef—an under chef,” she explained. “I worked at Delray’s. Three and a half years.”
“I know Delray’s!” Fred led the way to the stairs at a bounce. “I mean, I read some reviews. I couldn’t afford to actually eat there, but I read reviews. It was a hot spot.”
“Those were the days,” Lana murmured. “I’ll cook for you.”
“Really? If I get you cheese, can you make lasagna?”
“If you get me cheese, I’ll make you the best lasagna you’ve ever tasted.”
“We’ve got milk cows and a goat. If you have milk you can get cheese and butter. Cheese is harder, but I’m working on it. I found a book, and I’m using nettles and thistles for the— What is it?”
“Rennet. That’s damn clever, Fred.”
“I made some cottage cheese, and it wasn’t too bad. I’m a faerie, by the way.”
“I should’ve known. You have a brightness about you.”
“Your baby’s bright. Jonah said. He sees things like that. I can feel it, but he can see it, too. This would be a really nice nursery.”
Thinking about the baby, about the light, Lana looked in what had been a guest room doubling as a home office. But Fred was right. It would make a nice nursery. Not too big, not too small, with good light from a window that faced the backyard.
“We can move this out and get baby stuff.”
“I don’t even know what a baby needs.”
“I’ll help you, and Katie. Katie knows all about babies now. And she has clothes from when her babies were just born. We have a crochet circle just starting. They’d love to make you baby things.”
“A crochet circle.” A cheese-making faerie, a doctor, a house with a good kitchen, and a pretty backyard. “It’s like a dream.”
“There’s some bad. We have to have guards, in case. And most everybody accepts us, and most are happy to have us because we can help.”
Lana didn’t have to hear a but to know one was there. “Not everybody accepts Uncannys.”
“Not everybody, even though they don’t say so to your face. But there’s more good than bad. The other bedroom’s bigger, and it’s fixed up pretty nice. The bathroom up here—it’s just a half-bath deal downstairs—must’ve been redone not long before because it’s updated and all. Not like the apartments.”
Lana walked in, sat on the side of the bed.
“Are you tired? You can lie down awhile.”
“I’m not tired. I’m overwhelmed. You can start to doubt there’s real kindness left. Then you find there is. We’re so grateful.”
“We’re all we have. We should be kind.” Fred sat down beside Lana. “You’re adding to the community, and it makes us all stronger. Can I touch the baby?”
“Sure.” Lana took Fred’s hand, pressed it to her belly.
“She’s kicking!”
“She just started doing that today.”
“She’s happy, too. Are you hungry? We have ready-to-eat supplies at home.”
Kindness, Lana thought. The utter simplicity of kindness. “I’m always hungry—or she is. But what I’d really like is to see the gardens.”
“Yeah? It’s a nice walk. We can stop off, get you a snack on the way.”
“Queen Fred,” Lana said, making Fred giggle. “I’d like that. It’s been awhile since I took a walk just because it was nice.”
* * *
At the elementary school, Rachel reviewed new patient information—she’d seen twenty-two out of Max’s group—and made some additional notes.
Jonah, walking back from the nurse’s office, where they kept additional supplies, stopped. Just looked at her through the glass.
She’d let a woman—Clarice, who’d once owned a hair salon—cut her hair. He loved the way it sort of exploded in corkscrews around her face.
They’d set up the clinic together, often worked there side by side for hours. While his respect for her as a person and a doctor had grown, he’d learned more about her. Little things, he thought.
She liked science fiction novels, had lettered in track and field in high school, had never ridden a horse, and harbored a mild fear of them.
She’d collected PEZ dispensers—something he found ridiculously endearing.
He knew she’d lived in a group house with other interns for a year, and the daily soap opera had caused her to cut her budget to the bone so she could afford an efficiency apartment on her own.