busy noise of humans being human filled the room as we dug into dinner.
I hadn’t felt very hungry, but when the girls had started stacking the kitchen counter with turkey, stuffing, mashed sweet and grilled potatoes, and more, my stomach had begun growling. By the way everyone else was piling their plates high, it wasn’t just me.
“You get to church much these days?” asked Chuck with a smile, pulling off one of the turkey legs. He’d noticed my hesitation when Susie had asked everyone to hold hands to say grace.
He was teasing me.
Church brought to mind memories of bored Sunday mornings when I was a kid, fidgeting with my brothers in the pews. While the minister would drone on about something I didn’t understand, I’d pick at the edges of the threadbare cushions, my little legs swinging above scuffed linoleum floors.
“Maybe this is God’s punishment for the sinners of New York,” joked Chuck as he smothered his plate in gravy. “I’ll bet there are some Amish in Pennsylvania right now who’re getting the last laugh.”
Only half listening to him, I nodded. To my right, Pam was asking Lauren if her family had made their flight to Hawaii. Lauren responded that she thought so, but shrugged, and then Pam asked why we hadn’t gone with them. Lauren hesitated, and then lied, saying that she hadn’t wanted to. Lauren had practically begged me to go.
I wondered if Lauren was telling a white lie to stick up for me, or if she was just too embarrassed to tell the truth. If I’d let her family pay, we might have been a million miles away, watching the drama unfold from some sunny beach, and Chuck would have probably been safely tucked away in his hideaway.
But we were stuck in New York, and it was my fault.
Hearing Luke gurgle on the baby monitor, my stomach lurched and I put down a forkful of turkey.
“Did you manage to get it working?”
“What?”
“The internet, did you manage to get on this afternoon?” asked Rory from across the counter.
It took me a moment to switch tracks.
“Yes, um, well, no,” I stuttered. “I did get on, but it was extremely slow.”
Rory nodded. “The New York Times tech group says the internet is totally infected from top to bottom. They’re going to have to switch the whole thing off and restart nodes, one by one, all across the world, like clearing a city house-by-house.”
I nodded, not really understanding.
“Hey, when was the last time you ate meat?” asked Chuck, pointing toward the mock chicken on Rory’s plate. Susie had made some special dishes for them.
“More than a decade,” answered Rory. “I don’t think I could stomach it anymore.”
“Meat is murder,” laughed Chuck. “Tasty, tasty murder. You’d be surprised what you can stomach when you need to.”
“Maybe,” laughed Rory back.
“So what are they saying up at the Times ?” Lauren asked Rory.
“Hey!” said Susie, frowning. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that stuff.”
“I just thought maybe they’d heard something that wasn’t on the news, you know, airplanes…”
The table went quiet.
“Nothing about any air or other transport accidents,” said Rory reassuringly. “But then we’re barely getting any information, and what we are getting is a contradictory mess.”
“What do you mean?”
“Even after 9/11, it took a week to figure out what was happening. These cyberattacks look like they’re coming from Russia, the Middle East, China, Brazil, Europe, most even coming from inside the US itself—”
“Enough!” demanded Susie, raising her fork. “Come on now, can we please find something else to talk about?”
“I just—” Rory started to say, but Susie cut him off.
“The power is back on, something I forgot to thank God for,” she continued with a smile, “and all this will probably be over tomorrow and you can talk your heads off about it. But I’d like to have a nice, normal Christmas dinner, so, please.”
“Isn’t this a
I hadn’t felt very hungry, but when the girls had started stacking the kitchen counter with turkey, stuffing, mashed sweet and grilled potatoes, and more, my stomach had begun growling. By the way everyone else was piling their plates high, it wasn’t just me.
“You get to church much these days?” asked Chuck with a smile, pulling off one of the turkey legs. He’d noticed my hesitation when Susie had asked everyone to hold hands to say grace.
He was teasing me.
Church brought to mind memories of bored Sunday mornings when I was a kid, fidgeting with my brothers in the pews. While the minister would drone on about something I didn’t understand, I’d pick at the edges of the threadbare cushions, my little legs swinging above scuffed linoleum floors.
“Maybe this is God’s punishment for the sinners of New York,” joked Chuck as he smothered his plate in gravy. “I’ll bet there are some Amish in Pennsylvania right now who’re getting the last laugh.”
Only half listening to him, I nodded. To my right, Pam was asking Lauren if her family had made their flight to Hawaii. Lauren responded that she thought so, but shrugged, and then Pam asked why we hadn’t gone with them. Lauren hesitated, and then lied, saying that she hadn’t wanted to. Lauren had practically begged me to go.
I wondered if Lauren was telling a white lie to stick up for me, or if she was just too embarrassed to tell the truth. If I’d let her family pay, we might have been a million miles away, watching the drama unfold from some sunny beach, and Chuck would have probably been safely tucked away in his hideaway.
But we were stuck in New York, and it was my fault.
Hearing Luke gurgle on the baby monitor, my stomach lurched and I put down a forkful of turkey.
“Did you manage to get it working?”
“What?”
“The internet, did you manage to get on this afternoon?” asked Rory from across the counter.
It took me a moment to switch tracks.
“Yes, um, well, no,” I stuttered. “I did get on, but it was extremely slow.”
Rory nodded. “The New York Times tech group says the internet is totally infected from top to bottom. They’re going to have to switch the whole thing off and restart nodes, one by one, all across the world, like clearing a city house-by-house.”
I nodded, not really understanding.
“Hey, when was the last time you ate meat?” asked Chuck, pointing toward the mock chicken on Rory’s plate. Susie had made some special dishes for them.
“More than a decade,” answered Rory. “I don’t think I could stomach it anymore.”
“Meat is murder,” laughed Chuck. “Tasty, tasty murder. You’d be surprised what you can stomach when you need to.”
“Maybe,” laughed Rory back.
“So what are they saying up at the Times ?” Lauren asked Rory.
“Hey!” said Susie, frowning. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that stuff.”
“I just thought maybe they’d heard something that wasn’t on the news, you know, airplanes…”
The table went quiet.
“Nothing about any air or other transport accidents,” said Rory reassuringly. “But then we’re barely getting any information, and what we are getting is a contradictory mess.”
“What do you mean?”
“Even after 9/11, it took a week to figure out what was happening. These cyberattacks look like they’re coming from Russia, the Middle East, China, Brazil, Europe, most even coming from inside the US itself—”
“Enough!” demanded Susie, raising her fork. “Come on now, can we please find something else to talk about?”
“I just—” Rory started to say, but Susie cut him off.
“The power is back on, something I forgot to thank God for,” she continued with a smile, “and all this will probably be over tomorrow and you can talk your heads off about it. But I’d like to have a nice, normal Christmas dinner, so, please.”
“Isn’t this a
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