June 1

The doorbell rang.

Mom and I sat there, frozen by the sound. Syl was upstairs napping. Matt and Jon were chopping firewood.

The doorbell rang again.

Mom gestured for me to stay absolutely still.

“Laura? Laura? Are you in there? It’s me, Lisa!”

“Oh my God,” Mom said. “Lisa?” She raced to the back door and opened it. “Lisa? Is that really you?”

Lisa was crying. “Please,” she said. “Please let me in.”

“Of course,” Mom said, and gathered Dad’s wife in her arms. “Oh, Lisa. I’m sorry. I’m in a state of shock.”

“Where’s Dad?” I asked. “Is he here? Is he all right?”

“Yes, yes, he’s out front with the baby,” Lisa said. “Everyone’s outside. Hal thought it would be safer if I came first, that it wouldn’t frighten you as much if you heard a woman’s voice.”

At least I think that’s what she said, because before she was halfway through, I had run through the house, passing Syl on the stairway, and flung the front door open. There he was: my father, still alive, home where I could hold him and never let him go.

“Miranda, Miranda,” he said. “I knew this day would come. I never lost hope.”

“Oh, Daddy,” I said, and the tears streaming down my face were tears of joy for a change. “I don’t believe it. I can’t. It’s too good to be true.”

Dad laughed. “It’s true all right,” he said. He turned to one of the other people he was with, a girl, I noticed, and took a baby from her arms. “Meet Gabriel,” he said, handing the baby to me.

I was so stunned the baby’s name wasn’t Rachel, I almost didn’t reach out. Gabrielle’s a pretty name, I told myself. It was my fantasy she’d be named Rachel, no one else’s.

Dad was beaming. “This is Miranda, your sister and your godmother,” he said to the baby. “Miranda, this is your baby brother Gabriel.”

I looked down at the baby I was cradling. “It’s a boy?” I said.

“He was born right after midnight on Christmas Day,” Dad said.

For months now I’ve dreamed of my little sister, Baby Rachel. A few days ago I was in such despair, I’d hoped she’d never been born. And now I was holding that very baby, only it was a boy and it was screaming.

“He cries a lot,” the girl said. “You get used to it.”

Lisa and Mom had come to the front door. “Come in, everyone,” Mom said. “Syl’s gone to get the boys. Please, come in. You can warm up in the sunroom while I make a pot of tea.”

Lisa took the baby, Gabriel, from my arms, and for the first time I really looked at the people Dad was with. They were unloading their backpacks and taking their coats off, so they didn’t seem to notice that I was staring at them.

There were five altogether, if you count Dad and Lisa. Six if you include the baby. Besides Dad, there were two guys: one maybe in his thirties, the other one more my age or Matt’s. The girl who’d been holding the baby looked young, close to Jon’s age. Everyone’s so thin nowadays, and gray and sad, you can’t really tell ages anymore. Except the older guy wasn’t thin. He wasn’t exactly robust, but he certainly wasn’t thin.

We followed Mom into the sunroom. “It’s so warm in here,” the younger guy said.

We had the woodstove going, of course, and one of the electric heaters was on. Mom has it in her head we’ll use less firewood that way.

“Please,” Mom said. “Make yourselves comfortable. Lisa, is there anything I can do for the baby?”

“He’s hungry,” she said, and she began to nurse him. The other people—their band, I guessed—acted like this was the most normal thing in the world.

I didn’t have to figure out where to look, since Syl, Matt, and Jon burst in. Jon held on to Dad even longer than I had, and then Matt got his turn to hug Dad.

“This is Syl,” Matt told them. “My wife.”

“Your wife?” Dad said, giving Matt an extra congratulatory hug. “When did that happen?”

“Three weeks ago,” Matt said.

“May I kiss the bride?” Dad asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer. Instead he gave Syl a hug, which she resisted for a second, but then responded to with a hug and a peck on Dad’s cheek.

“Can you believe it?” Dad asked. “My son got married.”

“Congratulations,” the older of the two men said, and gave Matt his hand to shake. “That’s wonderful news. Hal talks so much about you, but he never once guessed he had a daughter-in-law.”

“Are you from around here, Syl?” Dad asked. “Did Matt go to school with you?”

“No,” Syl said. “We met nearby.”

“That’s great,” Dad said. “Lisa, darling, can you believe it? Matt’s married.”

“And you had your baby,” Matt said.

“A boy,” I said. “Gabriel.”

“I have a baby brother?” Jon said. “Wow.”

Dad laughed. “It’s all wow,” he said. “Oh, I’m sorry. There are introductions to make. It’s just—well, I know you understand. Laura, everyone, this is Charlie Rutherford, and Alex and Julie Morales. And in case you haven’t figured it out, this is Laura, the mother of my beautiful children Matt, Miranda, and Jon. And now Syl, my unexpected daughter-in-law.”

There we were, eleven of us, crowded into the sunroom. If Alex Morales had thought it was warm before, our body heat and the lingering smell of fish now made it almost unbearable.

“It takes a while for the kettle to boil,” Mom said. “Please, everybody, sit down. Miranda, get the mugs, and the tea bags.”

I went into the kitchen. The girl, Julie, followed me. “Let me help,” she said. I gave her a couple of mugs to carry in.

Mom’s been using her tea bags over and over again, but she’s down to her last half dozen. Now five of them would be used.

Did Dad expect us to feed all these people? Sure, he and Lisa were entitled to whatever we could give them, but the others were strangers to us. And on a Thursday. If we fed them the way we usually ate, we’d be out of food by Saturday.

I thought I saw Alex give a quick look at Julie. “Just hot water for Julie and me, please,” he said, handing one of the mugs to Dad.

“It’s just boiled rainwater,” Mom said.

“But it’s in a cup,” Julie said. “And in a warm room.”

Charlie laughed. He had a big man’s laugh, and it changed the atmosphere immediately. “See how little it takes to make us happy?” he said. “This is very kind of you, Mrs. Evans.”

“Laura, please,” Mom said. “I only wish I could offer you more. Miranda, get the bottle of lemon extract. That will give the water a bit of flavor.”

I ran back into the kitchen, found the extract, and returned it to the sunroom. I bumped into Alex as I did, and I blushed while I apologized.

“My fault,” he said. “I was in your way.”

I glanced at him, trying to act like I wasn’t looking. He reminded me a little of Syl, like he’d always been thin, like his body was used to it. His eyes were a very dark brown. I used to like more athletic boys, but I could see that he’d be good-looking under ordinary circumstances.

But these aren’t ordinary circumstances, and even though I couldn’t get over the idea that a guy had fallen into my sunroom, I was a lot more excited about Dad coming home.

“How’s Grandma?” I asked. “Did you get to her?”

“And what about your parents, Lisa?” Mom asked. “Are they all right?”

Lisa had finished feeding the baby and was patting him gently.

“Let me,” Charlie said, and Lisa gave Gabriel to him.

“We never got out west,” Dad said. “We don’t know.”

“It was horrible,” Lisa said. “We went from one evac camp to another, for as long as I could manage. Then the flu hit. By the time they lifted the quarantine, I was too far along to travel.”

“Everyone tried,” Dad said. “Lisa got extra food because she was pregnant. There were some great people: doctors, nurses, sacrificing their lives to help others. But by the time Gabriel was born, we’d been told not to try to go farther west. They said there was no point: Colorado, Nevada, were devastated. What survivors there were had been moved east or south.”

“We thought about you all the time,” I said. “Hoping and worrying.”

“You were never out of our thoughts,” Dad said. “Our thoughts and our prayers.”

“Was Gabriel really born on Christmas?” I asked.

“He sure was,” Charlie said. “I was there.” Gabriel was holding on to his ring finger with a possessive grip.

“Are you a doctor?” Matt asked.

Charlie laughed again. “Not hardly,” he said. “I was a telemarketer back in the day.”

We all laughed at the very thought of telemarketers.

“We met at the evac camp,” Dad said. “Charlie was great, helping everybody, boosting morale.”

“You make it sound like a prison camp,” Matt said. He was clutching Syl’s hand. I wonder what she’s told him about her time on the road.

“In some ways it was like a prison camp,” Dad said. “Especially during the quarantine. There was never enough food, or blankets, or medicine. But we held on, and Lisa had the baby, and thank God, they both came through.”

“Did you all meet there?” Jon asked. “I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten your names.”

“Alex and Julie Morales,” Alex said. “No. We met later, maybe two months ago? Time loses a lot of its meaning.”

“Lisa and I had decided to come back,” Dad said. “She knew how important it was for me to be with my children, all my children. Charlie came along because by then we couldn’t imagine life without him. He’s the best friend we’ve ever had. We ran into Alex and Julie, who were making their way back east, also.”

“You’ve stuck together all this time?” Syl asked.

“I know,” Dad said. “It’s unusual. In some ways we’ve become a family. Other people came and went, but the five of us held on.”

“Hal and Lisa have been kind to us,” Alex said. “Very protective of Julie.”

“She’s worth protecting,” Charlie said. “You both are.”

“I know it’s an imposition, Laura,” Dad said. “Us barging in on you like this. To be perfectly honest, I haven’t thought what our next step should be.”

“Julie and I won’t be staying,” Alex said. “We have other plans.”

Dad held his hand up to stop him. “Julie’s exhausted,” he said. “Look at her. She’s already fallen asleep. You need time to recover before you move on.”

I held my breath, waiting for Mom’s response to all this. It was one thing for me to be thrilled that Dad was back. It was another for her to welcome her ex-husband, his wife and baby, and three strangers.

“You caught us at a good time,” Mom said. “Matt and Jon have spent the past few weeks fishing in the Delaware.”

“No kidding,” Dad said. “The shad were running?”

“We got our share,” Matt said.

“Enough for all of us, at least for a few days,” Mom said. “We have some cans of food, too. There’ve been government handouts. We get food on Monday.”

“Maybe they’ll let Dad have some,” Jon said. “Like they gave some to Syl.”

“Well, we won’t know that until Monday,” Mom said. “But if you don’t mind eating fish for the next few days, I don’t see why you can’t stay here.”

“Oh, Laura,” Dad said.

“You and Lisa and the baby can sleep in the sunroom,” Mom said. “We can’t count on electricity, but the woodstove will keep you warm. That will be best for the baby. Julie can share the kitchen with Miranda and me, and Jon, Alex, and Charlie can sleep in the dining room. Between the mattresses and the sleeping bags and the blankets, we should manage all right.”

“This is very kind of you, Laura,” Charlie said. “And you’ll see. We’re great workers.”

“Good,” Mom said. “That’s settled. Jon, take a plastic bag and go to the garage and bring back some fish. A lot of fish. We’ll have to eat in shifts, I’m afraid, but at least we’ll all have supper.”

“We only eat two meals a day,” Matt said.

“Are you kidding?” Alex said. “Two meals a day? That’s luxury.”

“It is for us, too,” Matt said.

“It’ll be fine,” Mom said. “It’ll work out. We’ll make it work out.”

 

June 2

Last night, I wrote my diary entry in my bedroom closet, the most private place I could think of. Thanks to a couple of the flashlight pens Jon gave me, I had enough light, and although I could hear Matt and Syl murmuring in their room, the only other sound was Gabriel crying.

Gabriel cries a lot.

I hid my diary along with my other diaries, but I got it in my head my hiding place would be too easy to find if anyone really looked. It was hard enough after Matt brought Syl, but Charlie and Alex and Julie are strangers, and who knows what they were like before things happened, or even what they’re like now.

So I was in my closet, searching for a better hiding place, which was why I got to hear Mom and Matt arguing in Matt’s bedroom.

“They can’t stay,” Matt said. “You know that.”

“This is what I know,” Mom said. “I’ve already told Jon this, and I’ll tell Miranda when we have a moment alone. There is only one person in this house who matters and that’s the baby. He can’t survive without his mother, so that makes Lisa the second most important person. All the rest of us, even the girls, can get by if we have to. Syl’s shown me that. But the baby can’t, so we have to see to it that Lisa is taken care of, that she has enough to eat, that the baby is kept warm and dry. If that means all those people move into this house, then so be it. If that means we all eat a little less so Lisa can eat a little more, then so be it. No baby is going to die because I ate a second can of green beans. Do you understand me?”

“I do,” Matt said. “And on the face of it what you’re saying makes sense. But if you’re so concerned about that second can of green beans, how can you justify Dad eating it? Let alone all those other people. Mom, Jon and I worked hard for those fish. It wasn’t fun and games, especially not the second trip. You know as well as I do the food we’re getting from town isn’t enough to sustain us, and it sure isn’t going to last forever. We need to be as strong as possible when we have to leave here. Just having Dad and Lisa and that army they brought with them here cuts down on our chances. What if the rains stop? Will we fight with them for water?”

“I’m not turning them out,” Mom said. “This isn’t a way station for Hal. You’re his children. He has rights.”

“He has no rights!” Matt exploded. “He deserted us twice. He left you years ago—”

“That was a mutual decision,” Mom said.

“He left you,” Matt said. “You would have kept the marriage going if he hadn’t and you know that. And then he and Lisa drop by last summer and go their merry way. We owe them nothing.”

“They brought us food,” Mom said. “Food that kept us alive for weeks, maybe months. Food they could have kept for themselves. And would things have been better if they’d stayed? Lisa hysterical with worry over her parents? Food running out and then the sickness. Maybe she wouldn’t have survived. Maybe the baby would have died. Things could have been so much worse, Matt. I’m not sure they’d have been any better.”

“I don’t know, Mom,” Matt said, and his voice got so much lower I had to strain to hear him. “Maybe you should have let Miranda go with them. That might have been the best thing after all.”

I felt like I’d been punched in my stomach. I had never known Dad wanted me along with him and Lisa when they left here last summer.

“Is that what you wish for her?” Mom asked. “Evac camps? A life like Syl’s?”

“Leave Syl out of this,” Matt said. “She didn’t have parents to look after her. Dad would have protected Miranda. Yeah, it would have been hard, but it’s been hard for her here. And we knew, we all knew, that whatever food we had would last that much longer with one less mouth to feed.”

“I couldn’t let her go,” Mom said. “I couldn’t send Miranda or Jon or you out there knowing I might never see you again. I don’t know how those kids’ parents could have done it, Alex and Julie’s.”

“My guess is they don’t have parents,” Matt said. “Any more than Syl does.”

Mom sighed. “This is a horrible time,” she said. “But we’ve gotten through it together, and that’s how it’s going to be. I’m sure Hal’s already thinking about what to do next. In the meantime we’ll make do. Lisa isn’t going to go hungry while she’s nursing. We can’t let that happen.”

I heard Syl walking up the stairs. “Laura?” she said. “I remembered seeing a flannel sheet in the linen closet. I thought we could cut it up for diapers.”

“Good idea,” Mom said.

“Stay here for a moment,” Matt said. “Mom and I have been talking, and I want you to know what’s going on.”

I used that chance to slip out of my bedroom and make my way downstairs before anyone realized I might have eavesdropped. My timing was perfect, since as I walked past the living room, I heard an argument between Dad and Lisa.

“We can’t let Julie go,” Lisa said. “Who knows where Alex will take her, what will become of her.”

“We know exactly where she’s going,” Dad said. “Alex’s been very clear about their plans.”

“To leave her in an orphanage,” Lisa said. “So he can go off to Ohio.”

“It’s not an orphanage,” Dad said. “It’s a convent, and it took in girls like Julie last summer. It’s not like he’s planning to join the circus. He feels that Julie would be safer at the convent than she is on the road.”

“But she’d be safe with us!” Lisa cried. “Hal, I don’t think I can survive without Julie. She understands what I’ve gone through. No one else does.”

“I do,” Dad said. “I wish you’d believe me, Lisa.”

“You don’t,” Lisa said. “You say you do. You may even believe it, but you don’t. You decided right away that your mother had died. Even when we were trying to make it out west, you never thought you’d see your mother again. But my whole family was out there—my parents, my sisters. I’ll never know if they’re alive or dead. All I have is my faith that God will reunite us. Julie knows how that feels, that need to see your family again, that terror that you never will. She’s the only one I can talk to.”

“You can talk to me,” Dad said. “You are talking to me.”

“It makes no sense for Julie to live with nuns she’s never even met,” Lisa said. “If Alex would let her stay with us, then he could do whatever he wants, and he’d never have to worry about her. Please, Hal. Talk to him again, try to convince him. I’m sure the nuns are wonderful women, devout women, but Julie doesn’t know them. She knows us. I’ve lost so much, Hal. God brought Julie to me, to help me through. He can’t want me to lose her.”

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

I turned around and saw Alex standing there. Who knows how long he’d been watching me.

“I’m not enjoying any of this,” I said to him. “Thank you for asking.”

“Miranda, is that you?” Dad called.

“Yeah, Dad,” I said, sticking my head into the living room, nice and casual. “I was looking for Lisa. I wanted to tell her Syl found a flannel sheet Gabriel can use for diapers. Oh, hi, Lisa. I bet Gabriel will like that, a new set of diapers.”

“I know I will,” Dad said. “We’ve been down to four diapers for weeks now. Every night we wash three and hope they’ll be dry by the morning.”

I imagined quickly what my life would have been like if I’d left with Dad and Lisa back in August. Only I couldn’t imagine. Maybe if I’d gone, Mom, Matt, and Jon would have left before winter got bad. Maybe I never would have seen them again, and I’d be like Lisa, not knowing if my family was still alive, only without her faith. Or maybe I’d have her faith. Lisa hadn’t been particularly religious that I could remember.

“I saw some textbooks, Miranda,” Alex said. “Julie’s in eighth grade. Would it be all right if we used some of your books?”

“They’re ninth grade textbooks,” I said, like that would make a difference. “Sure. Jon’s stopped using them, at least for the summer.”

“We have a Bible,” Lisa said. “Julie can read from that.”

Alex smiled at her. “Yes, she can,” he said. “Julie and I read from our missal. But it would be good for her to review spelling and grammar and math. She was a very good student when she went to Holy Angels.”

I was starting to see what Lisa was up against. Alex reminded me of Matt, only a 100 times more protective. Then again, Alex and Julie didn’t have a mother watching over them.

What were their lives like? How could they endure without parents? How had Syl?

No matter how awful I’d had it, I realized how lucky I was. Even now, back in my freezing cold closet, the only light coming from my two flashlight pens, I do understand that, in spite of everything, I’m one of the lucky ones.