The Cabinet of Earths by Anne Nesbet

gotten cheerfully to school. That’s the way they ran things on days like this, Maya and her father. Still, it was like finding the same old load of bricks on your shoulders again, the weight you thought you had finally shed.
    But when she climbed the stairs at the end of the day (a few minutes later than usual, because there were math problems to copy out from Valko’s notebook), Maya caught the scent of something encouraging: the faint aroma of baking. Half a flight later she knew the baking must be happening in her own apartment, because the smell had evolved into something more specific: chocolate chip cookies, and the Davidsons were the only family in the building that ever baked something as American as chocolate chip cookies. More specifically, only Maya’s mother ever baked them. Maya’s feet fairly danced up the last dozen steps to the door. Everything must be all right, if her mother was baking again.
    But it was the inexpressive back of Cousin Louise she found bent over a tray of cookies when Maya came sailing through the apartment door. James was standing there, too, a toothpick in one solemn hand.
    â€œWe’re seeing if they’re done,” he said to Maya.
    â€œBut where’s Mom?”
    â€œMom got the recipe out, but then she had to go to the hospital,” said James.
    â€œWhat?” said Maya. “What?”
    â€œMaya, bonjour ,” said Cousin Louise, turning to look at Maya with her bland eyes. “You are not to worry, says your father. The hospital is just a precaution. And James wanted very much to continue with the cookies, though I am not really qualified.”
    â€œWe’re making cookies for that uncle,” said James. “In the Salamander House.”
    â€œWhat?” said Maya again. Her school backpack clonked heavily to the floor.
    â€œBecause we ate his candy up,” said James. “Remember how we went to see him and ate all his dessert up? I told Mom about that, and she said we should bake him something. And so we were going to do it today, and then she had to go for a checkup.”
    â€œA checkup?” said Maya. The happiness had drained out of her so abruptly that she felt a little dazed.
    â€œAt the doctor’s,” said James, and he poked another cookie with his toothpick.
    â€œYou don’t have to test cookies like that,” said Maya, distracted. “If they look done, they’re done.”
    â€œCousin Louise said perhaps we should be extra careful.”
    â€œIt’s that I know nothing about cookies,” said Cousin Louise in French. “Now that you are here, Maya, we can go to this other Fourcroy you have found.”
    â€œ But what is wrong with Mom? ” said Maya.
    Cousin Louise and James both turned away from the cookies to look at Maya. Cousin Louise’s expression was unreadable, but James looked startled.
    â€œIt’s a checkup, right?” he said. “Like when you get the plastic dinosaur from the treasure chest afterward. Only I don’t think they give dinosaurs to grown-ups.”
    â€œYour father said not to worry,” said Cousin Louise.
    Maya had to go out into the hall for a moment to bite back a lot of loud shouting words. Not worry! Maybe that worked on little kids like James. Maybe if you spent your life being almost invisible, like Cousin Louise, you eventually weren’t able to tell the difference anymore between empty words and the truth. When she was finally able to come back in, Cousin Louise and James were already putting the cookies into a tin.
    â€œTime for us to go,” said Cousin Louise. “We have worked it out, James and I. I am not going to do any talking.”
    â€œShe’s our nanny,” said James, looking smug. “Our nounou .” A lot of the kids in his class were picked up by nannies at the end of the day.
    â€œWhat I want is to look, quietly,” said Cousin Louise.
    Maya felt tired already. They were