boy’s eyes. His cheeks were flushed as if he had been running, and a couple of glistening runnels marked the track of tears down his cheeks.
“Did he fall down or something?”
“I don’t know,” Catherine said, setting Sams in the middle of the bed and tickling him. Sams looked solemnly at her for a moment before letting down his reserve and falling back on the covers and laughing. The sound was light, tinkling, infectious.
“He was just sitting in the middle of the room, crying. I didn’t see anything wrong.”
“Maybe he was just lonely,” Willard said as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his loafers on.
“Or maybe he was frightened by those horrible sounds?” Catherine said, a small smile curving her lips.
“What? What sounds?”
“Coming from this room. The moans and groans and....”
He rolled across the bed, careful not to lay on Sams, who was watching them wide-eyed. “I’ll show you moans and groans, woman,” he said, his voice dropping to a threatening growl.
Sams laughed as Willard grabbed Catherine and pulled her down onto the bed with him, and suddenly there was a free-for-all of arms and legs and tickling and unbounded laughter. Will felt a flood of warmth as he lay with his wife and baby, in his own house. The day was theirs, and all was well with the world.
4.
Catherine seemed completely recovered from the shock of the night before, although even after she was dressed and moving through the house on the innumerable tasks a mother must endure, he noticed that she hesitated fractionally before entering each room. It was as if she were checking things out, scanning the floors and walls for any signs of the phantom intruders of the night before. Fortunately, Willard had already made sure that the bathtub and sinks and kitchen were free from infestation.
Catherine visibly relaxed as they finally sat together at the kitchen table and ate a light breakfast of juice and toast together—fashionably late, but the more pleasant for that. Sams was strapped into his chair, enjoying a second helping of dry Sugar Crisps, most of which ended up on the floor or stuck in his hair.
On an impulse, Catherine reached over to the small radio on the counter and turned it on to KNWS, the local news station she had discovered a day or so after moving in. The station could be counted on to repeat weather and local updates during the morning, giving her a better sense of how to dress the kids for school.
The newscaster’s voice murmured largely unnoticed in the background as she and Willard sat without talking, enjoying the muted quiet, enjoying each other’s presence.
“Cath,” Willard said after a while, as he stood to set his plate in the sink. “How about a drive? It’s cold outside but it looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day. We could pack up Sams and head up the coast toward Santa Barbara. Maybe we could....”
“Wait,” Catherine said suddenly. “What was that?” She leaned over and turned the volume on the radio up.
“...Struck just after 2:30 and registered only 3.0, with its epicenter five miles off the coast of Malibu. There have been no reports of any damage from the quake, although a number of Valley residents were awakened by the jolt. No aftershocks have been reported.” The newscaster’s smooth voice robbed the announcement of any of the terror Catherine had felt the night before when the temblor had shaken her awake.
She turned the radio off. “There was an earthquake,” she said, her voice quiet.
“What?” Willard tore his eyes from the spectacle of his youngest son, mouth speckled with stray bits of cereal, sipping milk from his Scooby-Doo cup so carefully that not one of the strays dropped off.
“That’s what woke me up. Before I saw the...before I came into the kitchen. There was an earthquake. I felt it and got out of bed and went to check on the kids, then I came out here to get some tea and....”
“Her face grew white at the memory.
“Sit
“Did he fall down or something?”
“I don’t know,” Catherine said, setting Sams in the middle of the bed and tickling him. Sams looked solemnly at her for a moment before letting down his reserve and falling back on the covers and laughing. The sound was light, tinkling, infectious.
“He was just sitting in the middle of the room, crying. I didn’t see anything wrong.”
“Maybe he was just lonely,” Willard said as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his loafers on.
“Or maybe he was frightened by those horrible sounds?” Catherine said, a small smile curving her lips.
“What? What sounds?”
“Coming from this room. The moans and groans and....”
He rolled across the bed, careful not to lay on Sams, who was watching them wide-eyed. “I’ll show you moans and groans, woman,” he said, his voice dropping to a threatening growl.
Sams laughed as Willard grabbed Catherine and pulled her down onto the bed with him, and suddenly there was a free-for-all of arms and legs and tickling and unbounded laughter. Will felt a flood of warmth as he lay with his wife and baby, in his own house. The day was theirs, and all was well with the world.
4.
Catherine seemed completely recovered from the shock of the night before, although even after she was dressed and moving through the house on the innumerable tasks a mother must endure, he noticed that she hesitated fractionally before entering each room. It was as if she were checking things out, scanning the floors and walls for any signs of the phantom intruders of the night before. Fortunately, Willard had already made sure that the bathtub and sinks and kitchen were free from infestation.
Catherine visibly relaxed as they finally sat together at the kitchen table and ate a light breakfast of juice and toast together—fashionably late, but the more pleasant for that. Sams was strapped into his chair, enjoying a second helping of dry Sugar Crisps, most of which ended up on the floor or stuck in his hair.
On an impulse, Catherine reached over to the small radio on the counter and turned it on to KNWS, the local news station she had discovered a day or so after moving in. The station could be counted on to repeat weather and local updates during the morning, giving her a better sense of how to dress the kids for school.
The newscaster’s voice murmured largely unnoticed in the background as she and Willard sat without talking, enjoying the muted quiet, enjoying each other’s presence.
“Cath,” Willard said after a while, as he stood to set his plate in the sink. “How about a drive? It’s cold outside but it looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day. We could pack up Sams and head up the coast toward Santa Barbara. Maybe we could....”
“Wait,” Catherine said suddenly. “What was that?” She leaned over and turned the volume on the radio up.
“...Struck just after 2:30 and registered only 3.0, with its epicenter five miles off the coast of Malibu. There have been no reports of any damage from the quake, although a number of Valley residents were awakened by the jolt. No aftershocks have been reported.” The newscaster’s smooth voice robbed the announcement of any of the terror Catherine had felt the night before when the temblor had shaken her awake.
She turned the radio off. “There was an earthquake,” she said, her voice quiet.
“What?” Willard tore his eyes from the spectacle of his youngest son, mouth speckled with stray bits of cereal, sipping milk from his Scooby-Doo cup so carefully that not one of the strays dropped off.
“That’s what woke me up. Before I saw the...before I came into the kitchen. There was an earthquake. I felt it and got out of bed and went to check on the kids, then I came out here to get some tea and....”
“Her face grew white at the memory.
“Sit
Similar Books
