within the past three years is forbidden to either procreate or adopt.'
'I never saw that rule in there,' Barry said, his arm tightening around her.
Maureen hadn't either, but the case of the ever-changing document had never been solved, and they still hadn't had time to go through the massive volume that housed the revised G, C, and Rs . She had no doubt that Liz was telling the truth.
'There was a man here a couple years back,' the old woman said, her voice flat and unemotional. 'Dent Rolsheim . He had two kids by his first wife back in Phoenix but she had full custody. He'd remarried and moved here and was fighting it, pouring every cent he had into trying to get his kids back. Finally, the case went to court and he was granted joint custody, with the wife taking them for the school year and Dent taking them for summers and holidays. The day after he picked up the kids and brought them back here, they disappeared. All of them. Dent, the kids, the second wife. Gone. No one ever heard from them again.'
Maureen felt the grip of panic around her heart. 'What if the association tries something like that when our little guy's born?'
Barry's jaw tightened. 'Don't worry,' he said. 'We won't let them.'
'Them?' Liz said, raising an eyebrow. 'Us.'
She slammed the door in their faces.
The Bonita Vista Homeowners' Association Covenants, Conditions, and Restrictions Article VI, Membership Rights, Section 3, Paragraph D:
Children are not permitted to live within the boundaries of Bonita Vista or on any of the Properties herein, the sole exception being those persons under age eighteen who were already living with their families prior to the institution of this restriction. Should any couple decline to take suitable steps to resolve the conflict between an unapproved adoption or pregnancy and this Declaration, the Board has the authority to void the adoption or terminate the pregnancy in the manner it deems most appropriate.
They were awakened in the middle of the night by the phone ringing, and Barry grabbed it angrily, sure it was someone from the association attempting to harass them.
But it wasn't.
The voice on the other end of the line belonged to his brother-in-law, Brian, who was calling because Sheri had been in a serious accident and was in Intensive Care. Barry's sister and her husband lived in Philadelphia, where both of them worked the night shift at the post office's distribution center. Less than an hour ago, Sheri had gone out to get some sandwiches at an all-night deli and had been struck by a car while walking across the street. The driver had neither slowed nor stopped, and it was only the fact that the deli cashier had seen the accident and called 911 that she was alive at all. As it stood, she was in critical condition and her prognosis was not good.
'Get over here,' Brian sobbed. 'She needs you, man.'
'I'll be there as quick as I can.'
He clicked off the phone and looked over at Maureen, stunned. 'Sheri was in an accident. Hit and run. Brian says it's bad. There might be brain damage. She also might need a kidney and I'm the only family member with matching blood type. They want me to fly over for tests.'
It hadn't hit him until he spelled everything out for Maureen, and he suddenly felt as though he couldn't breathe. Tears welled in his eyes, and he concentrated hard so as not to cry, knowing that if he started he would not be able to stop.
He wiped his eyes. 'Pack enough for a week,' he said. 'I don't know how long we'll be there, but it's better to be prepared. We'll drive up to Salt Lake and see what's available, wait for standby if we have to.'
Maureen was already shaking her head. 'You heard what the doctor said.
I have no immunization for rubella. I can't fly on a plane with all that recycled air. Who knows what kind of passengers will be on there?
I'm not going to jeopardize the baby.'
He nodded in acknowledgment, though the meaning of her words was only now filtering through. It was as if everything was on delay, as though words had to travel great distances to reach his brain.
In the back of his mind was the idea that the association was responsible, that they were behind the accident and had planned this all out in order to separate him from Maureen, but he knew that was not possible.
Was it?
'You're going to stay here?' he said.
'Yes. But don't worry about it. Get ready and go. Sheri needs you.'
'I don't think--'
'I'll be fine. Nothing'll happen to me.'
'At least stay inside,' he told her. 'Don't even go out in the yard.
Keep everything locked up and barricade the doors until I get back. Put a towel over-your lap when you go to the bathroom in case they've installed new cameras and make sure you sleep in pajamas. Change and take your showers in the dark and do it quick in case they have infrared.'
'I thought they stopped taping us after you took out the camera.'
'Maybe they did and maybe they didn't. But just to be on the safe side, act as though your every move is being watched.' He took a deep breath, looked at her. 'Maybe we should drive. Then we could both go.'
'To Philadelphia?' Her voice softened. 'She might not make it, Bare.
I don't want to upset you, but you need to get out there now.'
'You're right,' he said numbly. 'You're right.' He thought for a moment. 'Why don't you come with me up to Salt Lake? You can stay in a hotel until I get back. That way you won't have to be here alone.'
'I'll be fine.'
'Maybe not. You said--'
'I'll be fine,' she repeated. She kissed him. 'Get ready. Go.'
He called her from the airport and then from the hospital when he got there. Things were looking up a little, he said. Not much, but a little. There'd be no need for a kidney, and it appeared likely that she'd pull through--the crucial period had passed--but the doctors were still uncertain as to whether or not she had suffered brain damage.
For Maureen, the day was long. She recalculated an estimated tax schedule for a client in California whose used record store income was below the initial projection, but that was it for real work. She spent the rest of the morning and the afternoon listening to music and rereading an old Philip Roth novel, waiting for another call from Barry. He phoned again that night. Sheri's condition was unchanged.
They talked for nearly an hour before Maureen gently told him he should go to bed, it was ten o'clock on the east coast and he needed the rest.
He hung up, after promising to call again in the morning after he visited the hospital.
She hadn't done much today, but she was tired, and Maureen went to bed after checking all of the locks and placing a chair under the knob of the front door. Despite what she'd told Barry, she did not feel comfortable remaining here alone, and she wished now that she had agreed to go to Salt Lake City.
Why had she stayed? What had made her do such a stupid thing?
Made her?
Now she was thinking like him.
Made her.
The thought was impossible to dislodge once it had crept into her brain. It really had been a stupid decision, and she could not for the life of her recall the logic or reasoning behind her choice.
Barry was the one who liked noise, who needed to fall asleep with the television on. By herself, she would have ordinarily gone to bed in a silent house. But tonight she was grateful for the voices and the light, and she fell asleep listening to the canned laughter of an unfunny TV show.
She was awakened after midnight by noises. The timer had long since turned off the television, but the house was not silent. From upstairs came loud taps and creaks and a subtle, persistent rattling. She wanted to pretend
