Page 40 of The Delivery

Derek cuts the line.

Mark rubs his face. When he’s done, Rebecca catches his eye, mouths, Thank you.

“Daddy, you have strep?”

“I’m not feeling so good, kiddo. I might have to get a test.”

“But you said you had strep.”

“I know, Maddysaurus. I might.”

“Why don’t I get you to school,” Rebecca says, “so Daddy can stay here and rest?”

Maddy feeds “Bao-Bao” back into the crate, comes to the table, picks at her eggs. “What’s for lunch?”

“I didn’t have time to make lunch,” Rebecca says. “So you’ll have to buy today.”

“I hate buying.”

“I know.”

“’Less it’s grilled-cheese day.”

“I know.”

Maddy scampers to the fridge, checks the printout. “It’s not grilled-cheese day.”

“I know.”

Maddy screws up her face. “It’s fish sticks. They’re super gross. And I hate waiting in line. And having to figure out change. If I don’t get it right, the other kids make fun of me.”

Rebecca crosses the kitchen and leans to see out the bay windows. Mr. Man is raking the front yard. He’ll be at it a long time, and then Mark will find other chores to keep him busy until the six o’clock call with N0RM LLC.

“You’ll get it right,” she hears Mark say. “It’s just math. And besides, the other kids are being nicer, right?”

And then Maddy: “It won’t last.”

Rebecca wonders if there will come a day when one of Maddy’s simple observations won’t shatter her heart. When she turns around, Maddy darts over to her. “Mommy. I’ve been trying to tell you.” She points. “That’s not Bao-Bao.”

Rebecca grapples with opening this fresh can of worms right now in the middle of everything else. She yearns to give way to the truth, but if she does there will be a world-ending meltdown and more emotions and complications, and she cannot contend with more emotions and complications in this moment. She feels a frozen weight across her face, heavy like a mask.

She hears herself saying, “Sure it is, Maddysaurus.”

Mark steps in: “Off you go, kiddo. You’re gonna be late.”

Maddy grabs her backpack and scampers into the garage, Rebecca trailing.

Mark looks up. “We got this,” he tells her.

Rebecca swallows past the lump in her throat.

Chapter 30

On the drive to school, Rebecca plays the Disney Channel on Sirius, hoping to forestall conversation. Maddy mouths the words listlessly, staring out the window, troubled.

Rebecca checks the clock, inching its way forward. She just has to get to 6:00 p.m. Then they will have answers and options. Plugged into the dashboard, her phone dings and chimes with notifications, oblivious as always to the emotional stakes of the moment. Text-to-speech spits out a bureaucratic assault—a missed package delivery requiring signature, a broken water meter that needs repair, phase three of an endless disputing process regarding inaccurate bills from selfsame broken water meter.

Distracted, she almost clips a bright-red Jaguar SUV pulling into the kiss-and-ride line. The driver slams the horn with the heel of her hand. Rebecca waves an apology, her mortification growing when she sees Sydney’s mom, Sheila, behind the wheel.