Page 39 of A Better World

The man leaned into the doorway, awaiting further explanation. Deeper in the house, she heard the warble of children.

“I went out with Rachel last night, if this is the right house?” Nervous, Linda blanked on Rachel’s last name:Johnson, that was it.

“And you’re standing?” The man spoke with heightened enunciation. Definitely a long-term local.

“Aspirin was involved. Is she here?”

“No. Something came up.”

“I’m sorry. You’re obviously busy and this is a bad time,” Linda said.“But is something wrong? Everyone in town seems very upset today. Does it have to do with the fire?”

“Where have you been?” he asked. “Of course it’s the fire!”

She waited. He didn’t elaborate. “What happened?”

“Don’t you know?”

She shook her head. The kid-chirping inside the house got louder. They sounded like preschoolers. From experience, Linda knew that you could leave that age group alone for five minutes, and after that you were taking a risk. Maybe they decided to help you clean by covering all the floors with water. Maybe they mashed Play-Doh into the carpet, or one sibling pushed the other off the couch, and suddenly everybody was hysterical.

“You’re the new people? The doctor for the clinic?”

“That’s me. What’s going on?”

A kind of curtain drew at this news. A closure. Outsiders. She was an outsider. He stopped leaning, stood straight. “Hard to explain. Did the interview go okay?”

“I think so. I hope so. Hence the donuts.”

From his body language, she saw that he wasn’t irritated anymore, at least not at her. But his resting face was a frown. “Good. We could use that. Rachel and I have been trying to make a lot of changes around here. A doctor for the clinic is one of them.”

“Put in a good word for me?” Linda asked.

He smiled just slightly, and then the smile was gone.

“I’m sorry. But I’m a curious person. Was anyone hurt in this fire?” she asked.

“You don’t know them,” he said.

“Oh,” Linda said. “I might.”

“No. You don’t. It’s sad, though. A tragedy.”

She waited, hoping he’d say more.

“Did you know I’ve never been outside of Plymouth Valley? Not once in my life?”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Linda said.

From inside the house came more squawking. A laugh and a shout. Linda got beyond her own nervousness and noticed that the poor guylooked exhausted. “I’ll just keep these,” she said, holding the donuts and handing him the note. “I’m sorry to interrupt your Sunday. Let her know I stopped by?”

He eased up and laughed at himself. “Kai Choi Johnson. I took her last name for the clean slate. Clean slates are a little naïve, though. Perhaps you can tell that I’m having a bad day. And maybe an existential crisis.”

“Seems to be going around.”

He didn’t take offense and instead grinned. “I draw up the budgets for ActHollow so we might be working together. It’s been a long weekend for me. I’ve had the kids since early release on Friday and our sitter quit—the dayworkers keep leaving PV Extension lately so it’s almost impossible to find a decent nanny. So, it’s just me. And then with the fire, Rachel had to leave at the crack of dawn. I didn’t even get the chance to go for a jog this morning.”

“Linda Farmer,” she said. “I know your pain. I’ve been there. Remember, when in doubt, planting them in front of a screenie while you nap is your friend. You sure you don’t want the donuts?”

He shook his head, gentler now. “I overeat when I’m tired. I’ll go through the whole box. But thank you.”

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