"Docka Hart gone!" Peggy wailed.
"Shut up, you stupid baby!"
"Johnny," Jane admonished gently. The strain was wearing on him, too. "Babies only cry louder if you tell them to shut up."
Peggy was willingly proving her point.
"Will she shut up if I tell her to cry louder? She's hurtin' my ears."
"What's all this?"
Adam. Jane nearly wilted in relief. She hadn't heard the door open and close for all the noise. "Look who's here," she said, wiping her hand across Peggy's damp face.
Peggy let out three more shuddering sobs as she reached for Adam. He took her from Jane, murmuring softly, "What's the great tragedy?"
"Docka Hart gone," she whimpered.
"Oh, that. When Johnny goes missing at least you're quiet."
Peggy clung to him, her face at the crook of his neck. Jane wanted to lean on the other shoulder and cry, too. She smiled at him, instead. It was good to see him, but he looked even worse than she felt. She couldn't burden him with her troubles after the day he must have had.
"Sit down. I'll get you some dinner."
He sat across from Johnny with Peggy nestled in his lap. Jane listened to them talk about the reading primer while she warmed up the chicken, potatoes and gravy she had saved.
It was wonderful to have Adam in her kitchen. It felt as if he had set everything to rights again. She knew he hadn't, of course. She had still lost her boarders, and unless a miracle happened, she would lose the house soon, as well.
But the children had both been upset a moment ago. She had felt a wave of desperation herself. Now Johnny was proudly pointing out which letters he had learned and the few words he could recognize, and Peggy was giggling and playing Adam's echo. For the moment it felt like they were a family. Almost home. Like the name of her boardinghouse, it wasn't quite the real thing.
She set Adam's dinner in front of him. He thanked her as he helped Peggy slide off his lap. "Get Aunt Jane a chair," he said to Johnny.
"Have mine," Johnny said, very politely. He sat down on the floor near his sister's basket of toys and stuck his nose in his book.
"How was your day?" Adam asked.
It was so much in keeping with Jane's fantasy that she almost laughed. "Not good, but I'll wager yours was worse. You look terrible."
"Thanks," he said, grinning. "Does exhaustion make me look older?"
Now she did laugh. "That and the fact that you forgot to shave."
"I didn't exactly forget. I delivered a baby early this morning." He was still grinning that little-boy grin she hadn't seen in a long time. "That was good."
"Was it?" she asked, wanting to encourage the light in his eyes that warmed her all the way to her toes.
"Yeah. It would have been better if they'd waited about four hours to get me, but it was good." The smile faded and he looked down at his plate. "Everything went downhill after that."
"More flu victims?"
He nodded. She didn't press for details. "I hate to tell you this, but you've got one more patient to look in on tonight."
He raised his head, his expression questioning.
"Ferris came down with it sometime last night."
Adam glanced at the children. Jane could guess what he was thinking. "I'm keeping them away from him."
He nodded. His eyes stayed on her for a long moment. "You can't know how important it is for me to have you to come back to."
Jane blinked. Johnny gave a little chortle, but when they turned to look his face was hidden in the book. Adam returned his attention to his food, rather self-consciously, she thought. She had to school her features to keep from smiling at him. Maybe he forgave her for being so suspicious of his motives.
After he had eaten and looked in on Ferris, he helped her get the children ready for bed. "I'd take them home with me," he said, "but who knows when I'll get called away again. I hate to leave them alone."
"You think I'll run away, don't ya?" Johnny remarked.
Adam handed Johnny a toothbrush he'd dipped in baking soda. "It crossed my mind."
"I think I waited too long. I'll never get her away from you two now."
"I'm glad to know you won't leave without her. I don't want to spend another morning with her under my desk. Now brush your teeth."
Johnny stuck the toothbrush in his mouth and pulled it back out. "What are you gonna do with us?"
Jane slid the little nightgown over Peggy's head and looked up at Adam. She was as curious as Johnny about the answer to that question. Of course, her situation had changed. She no longer had a home to offer them or the means to support them.
Adam's eyes met Jane's for a moment. "As soon as we figure it out, we'll let you know," he said to Johnny. "In the meantime, we'll be sure you're safe and well fed. You don't need to worry."
"Oh, that sure as hell relieves my mind," Johnny said around the toothbrush.
"It's the best I can do, Johnny."
Jane wondered just what kind of hoops she had to jump through to get Adam to let her have the children. He didn't know about the defection of the boarders. He simply didn't think she was able to care for them. She smiled at the sleepy Peggy, pretending not to be hurt by Adam's words.
She kept the same smile on her face as the children were tucked into the little bed. She managed to say good-night to Adam and see him out the door without a single tear escaping. But she made it only halfway to her own bedroom before they started to fall.
Jane took a leaf out of her table before she set it for breakfast. It didn't look quite as empty that way. She could have taken out another. Adam had been called away again.
George reported what Adam hadn't told her the evening before-that there had been two more deaths from influenza. Everybody who came into his bank, it seemed, had a story to tell about one epidemic or another that they had survived, witnessed or imagined. These stories were being repeated, confused and combined.
"I'm glad to know Adam was still kickin' as of last night," George said. "Don't see how he's going to keep from coming down with this before it's over."
Jane had been thinking the same thing. In his current state of exhaustion, he was probably highly susceptible.
"How's our patient upstairs?" George asked.
"He seems to be doing all right," Jane said, "but he's lonely. I can't stay with him all the time. I can't ask anyone else to, either."
"I'll see if I can't cheer him up a little," George said.
George visited with Ferris for several minutes after breakfast while Johnny helped Jane with the dishes. "How come you ain't worried about gettin' sick?" Johnny asked.
"To be honest, I am, just a little. On the other hand, I can't ignore someone like Ferris, who has no one else to take care of him."
"Kinda like why you take care of me."
Jane turned from the pan of dishes and looked at the boy. He wouldn't meet her eyes. "Is that what you think-that I see you as a duty?"
The boy shuffled his feet. "I know you was wantin' a little girl, but now I come along and you ain't so sure you want us both."
"Where on earth did you get that idea?" Jane dried her hands on her apron and squatted down in front of the boy.
"You mean you don't want Peggy, neither?"
Jane shook her head. "Couldn't you tell how delighted I was that that family didn't take you? And I thought you were such a clever boy." He wasn't to be teased out of his concern. She continued, "We don't always get what we want, but I'll do everything I can to keep you both."
This satisfied Johnny for the moment, but not Jane. Just what could she do to keep the children? Find a job and a house she could afford. She had about two weeks to do it. Maybe a little longer; George had always been more than reasonable.
She would start right away by buying a newspaper to see who was hiring and who had rooms to rent. Selling part of her furniture would raise a little money. It hurt to think of leaving this house behind, but not as much as losing the children. She had to be practical.
"Let's go shopping," she said, when the dishes were done.
Peggy had been playing with the blocks in the corner. Other than a glance occasionally to see that she was still there, Jane hadn't paid much attention to her. Now she realized that Peggy wasn't playing. She merely sat, holding one block on her lap, ignoring the kitten as it chewed on her dress.
"Peggy?" Jane knelt down beside her.
Peggy looked up, her eyes overbright and bleary. Jane was almost afraid to touch her. She had a sudden flash of Grams, sick and dying. There was the same fever in her eyes.