heard that.”
“Look who’s here,” said Dory.
Julia moved closer. She was vaguely hippie-ish in a cotton printed top and stretchy gaucho pants. “It’s been a long time,” she said. Her eyes moved over him without meeting his gaze. “I don’t even know what to say. I guess I should start with thank you. For everything you did for my father, and us.”
Elliot stood up. “Of course,” he said, confused. It seemed Julia didn’t want her wife to know she had paid him a visit. “Congratulations on the baby. I’m really happy for you both.”
“Thanks,” said Julia, with a bit more warmth. He noticed her eyes were listless and bloodshot.
“Is the baby asleep?” he asked. “Should we be quiet?”
Julia glanced down at the monitor then back at Dory. “Still awake.”
“There’s not much point in tiptoeing around her,” said Dory. “This baby seems determined never to sleep.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to be louder than usual,” said Julia. “You’ve got to quit it with those shoes.”
Elliot thought by now Julia would have realized there was no point in fighting with Dory, because Dory actually enjoyed it. It had been the worst part of their marriage, and Elliot had felt wounded by every harsh word that came out of his own mouth.
But Dory sidestepped the accusation. “Do you want to see her?” she asked him. “She’s awake, anyway.”
“Sure.”
“She’s probably gone to sleep now that nobody’s looking,” said Dory, the sound of her shoes dulling at last on the carpet as she led the way upstairs. “Maybe she just wanted some privacy.”
Julia sounded sour as she trailed behind her wife. “Have you noticed that all of your childrearing suggestions involve some degree of neglect?” To Elliot, over her shoulder, she said, “Dory keeps hoping that doing nothing will turn out to be the elusive parenting secret everyone else has somehow overlooked.”
He again felt the edge of animosity between them and was surprised that it worried him. He fumbled to change the subject as they reached the landing. “What’s your daughter’s name?” he asked.
“Shhh,” murmured Dory, pushing open a door at the top of the stairs. “Look.”
Elliot crowded into the doorway with both women to gaze down at the crib. The baby was finally asleep, her limbs splayed like a starfish. She looked perfect, like the chubby babies in diaper commercials, and her perfection seemed at odds with the kind of world into which she’d been born. Her tiny chest was rising and falling, her head stretched back to reveal bits of lint stuck in the folds of flesh around her neck. Then Dory reached out to clasp Julia’s hand, and Julia closed her eyes and leaned into her wife. The gesture seemed alien to the Dory he’d been married to, and, inexplicably, it soothed him. He felt a wave of love for the child, around whom three practical and prickly adults were standing by helplessly, peaceably. For the first time in months, something relaxed inside him.
“Why don’t you follow us up to the cabin tomorrow?” said Elliot. His voice was a whisper. “There’s plenty of room.”
* * *
At the cabin, Elliot inspected the mousetraps as the others unpacked.
“Exactly how long do you think we’re all going to be staying out here?” asked Gretchen, eyes boggling at the supplies from Keelan’s Winnebago.
Dory shrugged and passed her another bag. Frank said, “Until classes are reinstated? Longer?”
“Hmm,” said Gretchen. She began stacking tins inside the upper cabinets.
“And if somebody comes here trying to rob us of this bounty,” added Frank, “well, Elliot has a gun.”
“Nonsense,” said Gretchen. “Don’t be a fantasist.”
“Elliot has what?” said Julia from the couch, where she was nursing the baby; otherwise, Elliot had a feeling she might have shouted.
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “It’s locked in the car.”
Gretchen carried on as though neither of them had spoken. “We’ll share what we have, of course. And we’ll figure out how they can help us in return.” She settled down next to Julia and the baby. “It’s a bit exhilarating, to be honest. A test case in cooperation.”
His father sighed from the opposite couch. “It’s naive to assume these random, desperate strangers will have anything to offer.”
Dory spoke up. “It isn’t naive to assume people will do the right thing. People are surprisingly principled.”
“Until they get a taste of power,” said Gretchen. “Then they’ll throw anyone under the bus to keep it.”
“Another debate for another day, my dear,” said Frank.
As the conversation continued around him, Elliot began emptying his rucksack: a few clothes from his parents’