Before Dan and Nora could be approved to officially adopt the boys, they had to go through a lengthy placement process, which began with a homestudy.
�What�s a homestudy?� Taylor wanted to know.
�What Ike does,� Zac explained.
Taylor�s eyes filled. �But I like to go to school!�
Dan shook his head. �A homestudy is when a social worker comes to the house and sees how things are going now that you�re living with us,� he said. �To make sure that you guys are doing all right and that Nora and I are taking good care of you.�
Zac looked scared. �Are they gonna take us away?�
Dan hugged him. �No, buddy. They won�t.�
�Okay,� Zac didn�t sound reassured. �I hope not.�
The Conways� first homestudy was scheduled for a Wednesday morning in the second week of March, a few days before Taylor�s birthday. Nora took the day off and Dan rescheduled a meeting he�d had with an author whose book he was illustrating. The newest social worker assigned to their case, Delphine Golding, assured them that Taylor didn�t have to stay home from school. . . this was mostly just to ascertain whether the Conways met state regulations and to get an idea of how the placement had been working so far.
On Monday night, however, Dan got a phone call from another author whose book he was designing, a man who spent nine months out of the year living in Alaska and the other three travelling around to talk about his observations of Alaskan Wildlife. Michel St. Laurence was an old friend of Dan�s father�s. . . it had been Jim Conway who�d introduced St. Laurence to his son�s work. . . and he was going to be in the area on Wednesday morning for five hours, between planes. Dan knew that if he did not meet with St. Laurence then, he probably wouldn�t be able to get in touch with him for months. . . and the book was supposed to go to press in early May.
After talking to Nora, Dan called Delphine and asked if it would be all right if he wasn�t at home for part of the homestudy, explaining the position he was in. Amazingly, Delphine�s husband was an enviornmental preservationalist, and she�d gone with him to hear St. Laurence speak at a wildlife conference a few years ago. Familiar with the schedule the author kept, she told Dan not to worry. . . she�d reschedule the homestudy for Friday morning.
Late Monday night, Taylor managed to make it to the bathroom door. . . but not the bathroom itself. . . before he started throwing up. Needless to say, he didn�t go to school on Tuesday.
On Tuesday evening, Delphine called to apologize. She had to attend a custody hearing on Friday. . . was there any way the homestudy could take place the next morning? Legal proceedings had to take place, and it was important to have the meeting over with before the end of the week. Dan wouldn�t have to be there the whole time, as she understood he�d have to go ahead with whatever he�d told St. Laurence he was going to do.
�Sure,� Nora said, cheerfully. �That�s definitely fine for us. . . we�re sorry we had to reschedule in the first place.� She scanned the toy-strewn living room with building dismay. �Nine o�clock? Sure, see you then.�
Nora hadn�t canceled her day off, thinking she�d have time tomorrow to get the house in order. Dan had arranged to meet the other author whose book he was responsible for tonight, and he�d left the house about five minutes before. Swallowing hard, Nora wondered where to begin.
First, she headed for the kitchen, cringing as she realized that Mrs. Golding might ask the boys what they�d had for dinner tonight. Nora had opened a can of chicken soup. . . the kind with little star-shaped noodles in it. . . and given Isaac and Zac grilled cheese sandwiches. And carrot sticks and raisins, she added, mentally rolling her eyes at herself. God, if the social worker thinks I feed them like this every night. . .
�Eat slowly,� Nora cautioned Taylor. As far as she could tell he was fine now, but she didn�t want to take any chances. �You guys know. . . I mean, usually, when Dan�s home, everybody sits down and has dinner. Don�t we?�
�Mmmhmm,� Zac agreed. He�d pried his sandwich open, leaving the bread and gouging the cheese out with his finger.
�And we usually have. . . more of a dinner than this.� Nora realized that she was pulling one of those underhanded grown-up stunts, trying to get the kids to do what she wanted them to do. She felt guilty.
�More of a dinner than this?� Isaac repeated, puzzled. �But this is good, though.�
�Thanks.� Nora tried to smile. �I�m just saying. . . you know. We usually have, like spaghetti or something.�
�I don�t like spaghetti,� Taylor piped up.
�I know you don�t.� Nora wondered how to get her point across. �Usually, though, we have more than. . . soup and a sandwich for dinner.�
�We have carrots and raisins, too.� Zac smiled broadly.
�Right.� Nora smiled back, deciding to agree with him and drop the subject.
While Nora did the dishes, she sent the boys into the living room to pick up the toys. She wondered where in the world all the Legos had come from; they seemed to mate and multiply during the night. No matter how carefully she picked her way through their bedroom, she�d end up with little plastic blocks embedded in her feet. A seventy-six pack of crayons had scattered itself around the house, continually appearing in the weirdest places. A red one, a blue one and a periwinkle one had been under her pillow this morning. There were two more on the bathroom shelf, and a whole row of them along the edge of the mantelpiece. At least one had melted in a heating vent.
And then there were the army men. It cost a dollar to get a bag of a hundred. Dan had gotten each of the boys a bag. The house was infested with little green army men, everywhere.
�Isn�t there anything else they want to play with?� Nora had asked Dan.
There had been. They�d gotten Taylor a toy kitchen for his birthday, complete with play food. A picture of one had been in a toy catalog that had arrived a few weeks ago, and he�d been casting admiring glances at it ever since.
Nora peered around the kitchen door and into the living room, wondering whether the toys were being put away or played with. She couldn�t help giggling at what she saw.
�Tay, it�s not going to work!� Isaac was protesting.
�It will too!� Taylor insisted. �I saw it on TV.�
�I saw it, too,� Zac agreed. �It worked.�
�On TV!� Isaac rolled his eyes, exasperated. �Not for real!�
�Mary Poppins did it,� Taylor said. He clenched his jaw, squeezed his eyes shut, and snapped his fingers at a pile of plastic army men. When he found the toys still scattered on the rug, he looked genuinely dismayed.
�Maybe you�re broken,� Zac suggested.
�Broken?� Taylor whispered, his blue eyes horrified.
�Yeah.� Zac nodded solemnly. �Broken.�
�For crying out loud,� Isaac murmured.
�Broken?� Taylor�s voice was shaky. �Broken?�
�Maybe Nora can fix it,� Zac suggested.
�You are not broken,� Isaac protested. �They did a trick with the camera on Mary Poppins. Even ask Nora.�
�Mary Poppins wouldn�t play a trick!� Taylor scoffed. �She�s practically perfect in every way.�
�It was a movie!� Isaac wailed.
�Nora!� Taylor wailed.
�Make them shut up!� Zac wailed.
�Tay, honey, it was a trick they did with cameras in Mary Poppins.� Nora assured him, kneeling down so that the two of them were eye level.
�It was?� One of Taylor�s fondest illusions had been cruelly deflated. �Really?�
�Told you so,� Isaac interjected.
Nora gave him a look.
�What?� Isaac shrugged. �I did tell him so.�
�At least you aren�t broken,� Nora told Taylor.
He wiped away a tear. �But I thought I was magical.�
�You are magical,� Nora told him.
�I am?� Taylor asked, beaming.
�If you think you are, then you are,� Nora said.
�I think I am,� Taylor breathed, closing his eyes.
�Just not that magical,� Zac piped up.
Taylor sounded sad again. �Not that magical.�
�Very magical,� Nora assured him. �But toys don�t just jump back in the boxes because you snap your fingers at them.�
�They don�t?� Isaac sounded very surprised. �But I thought they did. Mary Poppins did it. Mary Poppins is practically perfect in every way. She�d never tell a lie-�
�Ike!� Nora exclaimed.
He grinned, feigning innocence. �What?�
�Don�t talk about it,� Nora mouthed to him.
Taylor stuck his tongue out at his older brother. �Nora said I was magical.�
Isaac nodded. �Great.�
Eventually, Nora managed to get the three of them into pajamas and tucked into bed with minimal stress. She started in on the heavy duty part of cleaning the living room, the kind that involved furniture polish, Windex and the vacuum cleaner. Dan called to tell her he�d be late. While she was talking on the phone, Nora started cleaning the kitchen.
She was in the downstairs bathroom, scrubbing grubby little handprints off the sink (Taylor and Zac had been fingerpainting the other day,) when Zac appeared in the doorway, clutching Bear and rubbing his eyes.
�What�s the matter?� Nora asked him.
He sighed. �My ear hurts again.�
�It does?� Nora frowned. He�d finished the round of antibiotics for his last ear infection two days before. She felt his forehead. �Honey, do you want to sit down here with me?�
Zac nodded. They sat on the couch and read stories for awhile. When his eyelids started growing heavy, Nora covered him with a blanket, put on a video and slipped off to finish cleaning the bathroom. It was almost eleven thirty by now, and she felt as if she�d been through the ringer.
That�s when the screaming started. Nora and Dan knew that they were not adopting three little boys free of emotional baggage, worries, fears and phobias they couldn�t express. . . or didn�t want to think about during the day. It was common for even a well-adjusted little kid to have an occasional night-terror, but, Nora reminded herself, she was not dealing with well-adjusted little kids. During the day, all three of the boys might seem to be doing fine, but at night. . .
�He�s just yelling,� Isaac told Nora, yawning, after she�d dashed up the stairs and wrapped her arms around Taylor. �About monsters or something.�
�Make it go away!� Taylor gazed at something in the corner, his eyes glazed and unseeing. The creepy thing about night-terrors, Nora reflected, was the absolute conviction the person who was having them had in what he was seeing. She knew that Taylor didn�t doubt for a minute that there was a monster standing in the corner. �Make it go away!�
�Shh, baby,� Nora whispered. �It�s gone.�
�I�ll get it! I�ll get it!� Without warning, Taylor pulled away, dashing toward the room and bumping into the doorframe before Nora could grab him. He was too far gone to feel anything, but Nora and Isaac both winced.
�Can I make it go away?� Nora asked.
�Tell it to leave!� Taylor shrieked, burying his face in his hands. �Say �go away!��
�Go away!� Nora exclaimed, trying to sound menacing.
�It�s looking over here!� Taylor dived beneath the blankets. �It�s looking!�
�Stop looking over here!� Nora commanded. �Go away!�
For awhile, Taylor was quiet, hidden beneath the covers. �I think it�s gone now,� Nora whispered, folding the blankets back.
His eyelids fluttered open. �What?� he asked, in a normal tone of voice. �What�s gone?�
�You just had a bad dream,� Nora told him.
Taylor sat up. His face was flushed and his eyes bright, a bruise rapidly darkening on his forehead, but he had no memory of how scared he�d been only moments before. �I don�t remember it.� He yawned. �Where�s Zac?�
�Right here,� Zac was standing in the doorway, his lower lip quivering. �Why did you go upstairs? I heard people screaming, and I got scared...�
�Come here, honey.� Nora put her arms around him. �I�m sorry.�
�You were having a bad dream,� Taylor told Zac, knowingly.
�No, you were,� Isaac corrected.
�No, he was.� Taylor pointed at Zac.
�I was,� Zac cried. �I was having a bad dream about Mary Poppins. She was up on the ceiling.�
�That would be scary,� Nora agreed.
�It was,� Zac assured her.
When Dan came home half an hour later, Nora had collapsed on the couch, too tired to move. �I�m not cleaning anymore,� she murmured. �I am getting up early tomorrow morning and finishing all of this.�
Dan grinned. �Was it that bad?�
�Oh, lord.� Nora sat up, yawning. �Somedays I don�t know whether I�m qualified to do this.�
�Clean?� Dan asked.
Nora shook her head. �Have kids.�
Dan thought for a moment. �Y�know,� he began. �I don�t think anyone�s really �qualified� to have kids. I mean, you don�t need a license for the sperm to hit the egg, so any bastard can procreate. I mean, look at. . .� he stopped, but they both knew who he was thinking about. �Anyway,� Dan finished, �If you had to be perfect to have a kid, no one would have any.�
�That�s not what I mean,� Nora told him. She took a deep breath. �We�re doing this voluntarily. . . and I�m worried that I might be really bad at it. And. . . because I never have any idea of what today, wouldn�t the boys be better off with somebody who does? I mean, you�re really good with them, but I. . .� Her voice quavered. Dan hugged her.
�Nor. . . you�re great with the kids. Way better than me. . . I never have the first idea what�s going on. . .� Dan shook his head. �I don�t know. . .�
�I just feel like. . .� Nora took a deep breath. �Like maybe the social worker will come tomorrow morning, take a look around and ask me what the hell I think I�m doing... I don�t know that anything I am doing is right.�
Lately Dan had been doing a lot reflecting on the implications of raising children, and what was the right way to do it. �You know what I think, Nor?�
�What?� Nora dabbed at her eyes.
�I think that no one ever really knows that what they�re doing is right,� Dan said, �until they�ve already done it. I mean, you can�t even say that it�s right to bring a child into the world in the first place. . . the kid is born with a bunch of nuclear weapons pointed at it�s head and an economy in which thousands of poor people are exploited so that a few rich ones can get richer. And you never know if he�s going to step in front of a bus, or be snatched out of a grocery store, or end up addicted to drugs, or father sixteen children out of wedlock, or drag you along with him on Oprah while he talks about his bad childhood, or. . .�
�Dan. . .� Nora buried her face in her hands for a moment. �Dan, do you mean this to be comforting? Because. . .�
Dan thought for a moment. �What was I talking about? Oh yeah. . . you have a kid, and you try to protect him from everything that�s dangerous and threaten him out of doing anything that�s stupid. And nobody knows if what they�re doing is enough, or if what they�re doing will actually make a difference in the way things turn out, in the end. You just do your best and pray that it will, and nobody can criticize you for it. And anyone who will is either self delusional or someone who never cared enough to try in the first place, and jealous.�
�Do you really believe that?� Nora�s eyes glistened with tears and hope.
Dan shrugged, grinning. �It�s what I tell myself.�
Nora paused. �One thing, though. . .�
�What?� Dan asked.
�Are you saying that it�s irresponsible to have kids in the first place?� Nora raised an eyebrow. �Because I can�t believe that.�
Dan shook his head. �Nah,� he said, grinning. �I was just trying heighten your insecurity.�
�You�re really awful.� Nora smiled, smacking him with the sofa cushion.
�Hey!� Dan protested.
Nora rolled her eyes. �You�re such a baby.�
�But. . .you�re mean to me,� Dan accused, then laughed.
�What?� Nora asked.
�You�ve kept me out of trouble all these years,� Dan told her. �You couldn�t be that bad as a mother.�
Nora giggled. �And here I was thinking you were the one who�d be a good parent.�
�You�re going to have to spank them, though,� Dan remarked, offhandedly. �I don�t think I can do it, y�know, any of that. . . hands on discipline stuff.� He made a face.
�Dan!� Nora�s eyes grew wide. �What are you talking about?�
Dan raised his eyebrows. �Nor, you are too easy.�
Nora put her hands on her hips. �Dan, I am taking a shower and going to bed. You�re ridiculous.�
�Talk about someone who�s not qualified to be a parent, huh?� Dan asked.
�Me?� Nora squeaked.
�No.� Dan shook his head. �I bet I�ll be the one to screw them up.�
�Hey.� Nora hugged him, knowing he was half serious. �Dan, I wouldn�t have married you if I didn�t want to have children with you.�
Dan pretended to misunderstand her. �That was your only criteria? I mean, I know I�m extraordinarily good looking, and I could see why you�d want me in the gene pool, but I thought you might, you know, be attracted to me as a human being as well. Especially because our gene pool sure ain�t going anywhere.�
Nora rolled her eyes. �What makes you think I wanted you to father my children? I wanted you to raise them with me, but my original plan was to get�em at the sperm bank.�
�The sperm bank?� Dan echoed.
�Maybe, you know, have some Dominican guy donate for me,� Nora suggested. Nothing in her demeanor indicated that she wasn�t serious.
�Why?� Dan asked.
Nora smiled. �The kids might be boys,� she said. �I couldn�t allow them to be doomed. Other boys might laugh at them in the locker room.�
�Doomed?� Dan repeated. �Locker room?�
�You know.� Nora flirted with him through her long eyelashes. �The Irish curse.�
Dan looked stunned. �What?�
Nora grinned. �Dan, you are too easy. . .� She sidled toward the door. �I�m going to take a shower.�
�Nor. . .� Dan sounded a small bit worried, �You were kidding about that Irish curse thing, right?�
Nora had been, but she wanted to keep him guessing for a little while. �Oh, yeah.�
�Okay.� Dan bit his lip. �Are you sure?�
�I�m sure,� Nora told him.
�I mean, well, I always thought it was comparatively not too shabby, but. . .� Dan wrinkled his forehead. �I�d trust your opinion.�
�If you want, I�ll look again,� Nora offered. She smiled. �I�ll be in the shower.�
When the alarm clock rang the next morning, Dan leaned over and hit it, promptly falling back to sleep. �Five more minutes,� he muttered. �Five.�
�Is it time to get up yet?� An hour and fifteen minutes later, Taylor appeared in the doorway. �It�s morning now.�
Blearily, Nora reached over Dan and blinked at the alarm clock. �Eight o�clock,� she read. �Eight o�clock!� she shouted, shaking Dan. �Eight o�clock!�
�Time to get dressed?� Taylor asked.
�Oh, honey. . .� Nora shook her head. She�d never be able to get him to school and be back home in time to meet the social worker. And Dan had to be at that meeting at the airport. . .
�Yeah, Tay, go get dressed,� Dan directed. �And close the door behind you, okay?�
�Okay.� Taylor closed the door and skipped down the hall.
�Dan, I can�t take him!� Nora exclaimed. �And neither can you!�
�Yeah, but Nor. . .� Dan jumped out of bed and headed for their bathroom. �We have to get dressed.
�Oh, yeah.� Looking at her husband, Nora remembered why she�d been clasping the sheet to her chest. �Right.� She paused. �What do I tell him?�
Dan shrugged. �Tell him he�s sick again.�
�He�ll know he�s not!� Nora protested.
�No he won�t,� Dan assured her. �Just make something up.�
�I made breakfast,� Taylor told Nora, when she dashed downstairs in a pair of ragged gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt that read �Georgetown University� across the front of it. �For you, too. All by myself.� He smiled, sweetly. �Because you make it for me every day.�
�Oh, honey. . .� Nora was so deeply touched that she overlooked the puddles of milk on the counter and the floor and disregarded the cereal that crunched underfoot. She hugged him. �That was so nice of you.�
Taylor smiled. �I don�t like Raisin Bran,� he said, �but I know you do.�
Nora realized that this was a moment she should take advantage of, even though she had a million other things she needed to be doing. She sat down with Taylor and had a bowl of cereal.
Dan appeared in the doorway, Zac clinging to him as tightly as one of those little bears they sold on ropes by the checkout lanes at the supermarket. �He doesn�t feel good,� Dan explained, casting a dismayed look around the kitchen. �Nor, I feel so bad that I can�t stay and help. . .�
�No, you have to go,� Nora said. She held out her arms to accept Zac when Dan held him out to her. Zac didn�t want to let go of Dan, though. He�d twined his little arms around Dan�s neck so tightly neither of them could pry him off.
�Honey, Dan has a meeting.� Nora felt like a bully.
Zac shook his head, burying his face in Dan�s shoulder.
�Zac, I�ll be back in a little while,� Dan promised.
Zac shook his head, without looking up.
�Zac, look!� Taylor exclaimed. �Big Bird�s in the backyard!�
Zac turned to look, and Dan handed him to Nora, who pecked him on the cheek and gestured to him to dash out the door while he could. Zac, knowing he�d been tricked, struggled in her arms and tried to kick Taylor. It didn�t take much to tire him out, though, and soon Nora had him tucked under a blanket on the living room couch, watching Sesame Street.
�Time to go to school now?� Taylor asked, hopefully.
Nora paused. �School?�
�Yeah.� Taylor nodded, emphatic. �I missed yesterday. I can�t miss today.�
�Oh, honey. . .� Nora took a deep breath, preparing herself to lie. �I can�t send you to school while you�re still sick.�
�I�m not sick.� Taylor shook his head. �I�m all better!�
�Nope.� Nora felt his forehead. �You have a fever.�
�I do not!� Taylor stamped his foot, his skin flushed with anger. �I do not!�
Isaac, who had wandered downstairs in a half-awake stupor, blinked wonderingly at his younger brother. He rubbed his eyes.
�I do not!� Taylor insisted.
�I�m sorry.� Nora finished mopping the kitchen floor. �Maybe tomorrow you�ll feel better.�
�That lady is so mean!� As Nora finished cleaning the bathroom, she heard Taylor talking to Gallagher in the hall. �She�s mean mean mean mean mean mean MEAN!� Taylor paused, as if Gallagher was answering him. �Yeah, I know. You�re right. She�s MEAN!�
Twenty minutes before the social worker arrives, and one kid hates me, Nora thought. The other isn�t speaking, and the other one is. . . half asleep.
Isaac peered around the doorway. �You want me to do something?� he asked.
A godsend, Nora amended. �Thank you so much,� she said. �Honey, will you pick up you guys� room? Just put the toys away and make the beds?�
Isaac nodded. �Okay.� Nora smiled after him as he made his way down the hallway. One out of three? Not bad.
�Yeah, and we�re never making her breakfast again,� she heard Taylor tell the cat. �Never ever ever.�
Nora stole a glance at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her hair was flying in eighty different directions, there were dark circles under her eyes. The Georgetown shirt was at least eight years old, stained and fraying. �I�m going upstairs-� she called to Taylor and Zac.
Taylor bounded through the doorway, bouncing from one foot to the other in a state of what Nora would have sworn was gleeful anticipation. �He�s gonna throw up!�
�Who?� Nora asked. �Zac?�
Taylor nodded. �Yeah!�
�Oh, heavenly lord. . .� Nora rolled her eyes and ran into the living room. �You feel like you�re going to throw up?� she asked Zac.
He nodded and did. All over the couch.
The next few minutes passed in a blur. Nora dashed from room to room, setting Zac in the bathtub upstairs and instructing Isaac to keep an eye on him, gingerly removing the blankets and sofa cushion covers from the couch and putting them them into the washing machine. She draped another blanket over the couch itself, to hide the fact that the cushion covers were gone. She raced upstairs to get dressed but had succeeded only in running a comb through her hair when Taylor announced that Zac was throwing up again.
He wasn�t- he just felt like he was going to, he said. Nora wrapped Zac in a towel, told Taylor to go get dressed and dashed down the hallway to her own room. She put Zac down on a chair by the bathroom door, in case he decided that he was going to throw up again. In the bathroom, Nora exchanged her sweatpants for a pair of khakis, threw her hair back in a messy ponytail, and brushed her teeth. �When you get dressed up and you don�t put on makeup, you might as well be naked,� a cousin had told Nora when she was nine years old, and Nora, naive enough then to believe her, had always felt half dressed without mascara and lipstick. She applied them now, rolling her eyes at herself. Oh well. She may be coming apart at the seams, but she�d be appropriately made up while she did it.
The doorbell rang. �Tay, honey, can you answer that?� Nora asked, hearing a pair of little feet scamper down the hallway.
�No!� Taylor yelled back, cheerfully. �I�m busy!�
Nora sighed. She lifted Zac off the chair and hurried downstairs.
The well dressed middle aged woman who was standing on the doorstep extended her hand, smiling cheerfully. �Hi, I�m Bunny Bevlin, from Avon cosmetics. Are you Nora Conway?�
Nora nodded, wondering if this was some weird kind of social worker test. Maybe they�d pretend to be Avon ladies and randomly show up at the house, just to see what things were like when the occupants were not necessarily on their best behavior.
Which they weren�t. �Go away!� Zac, still wrapped in a towel, wailed, burying his face in Nora�s shoulder.
�Nora!� Taylor, wearing nothing but a pair of underwear on his head, raced down the stairs and tugged at Nora�s shirt.
Ms. Bevlin raised her eyebrows. �I�m sorry. This doesn�t look like a good time. . . your sister Lucia sent me.�
�Oh!� Nora shook her head, laughing in spite of herself. That was such a Luci thing to do. . . �I�m sorry, Ms. Bevlin, it really isn�t a good time. . . we have someone coming over and. . .�
�Nora!� Taylor shrieked. �NoranoranoranoraNORA!�
�Nora, the washing machine is flooding all over the place!� Isaac yelled from the other room.
�Oh no. . .� Nora groaned. She swallowed. �Ms. Bevlin, would it be all right if-�
�Nora, I don�t know how to turn it off.� Isaac ran down the hallway, stopping short when he saw Ms. Bevlin. The surgical scars were clearly visible across his stomach, and you could count all of his ribs. He�d lost a lot of weight in the hospital, and he hadn�t had much to lose in the first place. To top it off, he was drenched, a trail of bubbles following him down the hallway. Mrs. Bevlin blinked, becoming more and more convinced that this was some kind of demented torture chamber.
�Oh,� Isaac said, looking at Ms. Bevlin. �Hi.� He didn�t take a breath. �I climbed on top of it. It�s going back and forth, and it�s all slippery. I don�t think it�s supposed to do that.�
�Oh, shoot!� Without pausing to thing, Nora handed Zac to Mrs. Bevlin and dashed down the hall to turn off the washing machine. Zac started screaming.
Mrs. Bevlin looked questioningly at Isaac. He shrugged.
�I guess she thought maybe you wanted to hold him.�
�Oh, shoot!� Nora came flying down the hallway, taking Zac out of Mrs. Bevlin�s arms. �That was so rude of me. . . I�m sorry. I wasn�t even thinking-�
�I�ll call and set up an appointment later,� Mrs. Bevlin called, already clicking down the driveway as fast as her high heels would go. �It�s a madhouse,� she murmured to herself. �They�re all posessed.
�Bye!� Taylor, in all his glory, leaned through the doorframe. �Thanks for visiting!�
Nora put Zac on the couch, lined the laundry room floor with towels and sent Isaac and Taylor upstairs to get dressed again. She called the washing machine repairman and made an appointment for that afternoon. She called the pharmacy and phoned in a prescription for Zac. She called the restaurant where Dan was and left a message for him to pick up the prescription before she came home. Nora stuffed the wet, soapy towels into the drier, for lack of a better place to put them, and pulled a shirt on. She changed Zac�s pajamas, tucked Taylor�s shirt in and kicked a few stray toys beneath the couch. She felt ready to collapse.
�Wait!� Taylor exclaimed, shedding clothing left and right. �I�m sick! I can�t wear regular clothes, or she�ll think I skipped school!�
�Oh, no. . .� Nora groaned, collecting his jeans, t-shirt and socks. �For heaven�s sake!�
Taylor appeared again in a light blue bunny suit with feet. �Tell her I would never never skip school!�
Nora glanced at the clock on the mantlepiece. 9:05. . . Mrs. Golding was late.
�Why do we have to impress this social worker?� Isaac asked. �I�m sick of impressing this social worker!� He still didn�t feel safe wearing a shirt, and Nora figured he must be worried about the scars on his stomach, and what Mrs. Golding would think about them.
�Yeah,� Zac piped, taking his thumb out of his mouth. �Tell her to go away!�
�Let�s lock the doors and hide under a table or something,� Isaac suggested.
Nora, increasingly ambivalent, could have done it in a second. She shook her head, though. �No. It won�t be that bad. I�m sure that Mrs. Golding is a really nice lady. � Delphine Golding, she thought. God, what a name. . . I bet she�ll hate us.
The doorbell rang again. Nora�s breath caught in her throat. This was it.
�This is it,� she said to Isaac, feeling like Dan.
�Don�t let her take me anywhere!� Zac flung his arms around Nora�s neck. �Tell her to go away!�
�Come on,� Nora said heading toward the door. �I won�t let her take you anywhere.
Delphine Golding was tall and well-groomed, her permed brown hair neatly fluffed around her narrow face. She had ice-blue eyes and perfectly tanned skin.
Inwardly, Nora groaned. She looked like one of those people who always needed everything to be just-so.
Outwardly, Nora smiled. �Hi, I�m Nora Conway.�
�I�m Delphine Golding.� Mrs. Golding smiled. �It�s nice to meet you. . . I�m sorry I came at such short notice.�
�Don�t take me away!� Zac wailed. �Go back to your house!�
Nora smiled apologetically at Mrs. Golding as she passed through the door. �He has an ear infection.�
�Oh,� Mrs. Golding was sympathetic. �You poor thing.�
�Now go away!� Zac shrieked.
�Honey, Mrs. Golding�s here for a visit,� Nora told him. �She�ll feel sad if you yell at her like that.�
�I would like you to stay.� Taylor clasped his hands behind his back, looking up at the social worker innocently. His forehead, where he�d smacked it on the doorframe the night before, was black and blue, and he had a long red mark on his face where he�d accidentally scratched himself with a wooden shish kebab skewer he�d found in a drawer. �You seem like a nice lady.�
Isaac rolled his eyes. What a kiss-up.
�This is Zac,� Nora told Mrs. Golding, �and Taylor, and Ike.�
�Isaac,� Isaac corrected. He didn�t know why. . . he didn�t really care what she called him.
�Isaac,� Nora amended. �Would you like to sit down, Mrs. Golding?�
�If you don�t mind,� Delphine said, �I�d actually like to have a look around the house first. It�s the preliminary part of the visit, and it�s nice to get it done with.�
�You can see my room!� Taylor grabbed Mrs. Golding�s hand and pulled her toward the stairs. �Come on!�
�Honey, let Mrs. Golding decide what she wants to see first,� Nora told him.
�She wants to go home first!� Zac shrieked.
�Ike, do you want to sit with him on the couch and watch TV?� Nora asked, but it wasn�t really a question.
�Come on, Zac,� Isaac said.
�This is such a pretty house,� Mrs. Golding observed, as they climbed the stairs. �So open.�
Nora smiled. �Actually, it�s seemed too small lately, and the people we�re renting from want to sell. We�re trying to find someplace a little bit bigger.� She smiled. �Thanks, though. . . I�ll be sad to move. I love this house.�
�This is my room!� Taylor broke in. �Come and see!�
�Oh, how nice!� Mrs. Golding exclaimed. �Who drew those beautiful pictures?�
Taylor smiled. �We did.�
Nora bit her lip. The picture Mrs. Golding was looking at was of an elaborately detailed green monster biting somebody�s head off. In case any observer should have doubts about the subject matter, the various parts of the drawing were painstakingly labelled. �Monstar.� �Viktom.� �Blud.� �Gutz.�
�See?� Taylor piped. �I drew it. Ike told me how to spell the words. Monster and victim and blood and guts.�
�Where�s that nice picture you drew of the dinosaurs in the jungle?� Nora prompted.
Taylor shrugged. �I messed up on it and threw it away.� He pointed at another picture. �And Ike drew this, and it�s little army men, and one army man�s running them over with a tank.�
Nora felt the blood draining out of her face. They�d never pass this homestudy.
�And Zac did this one,� Taylor finished. �It�s Nora.�
Nora, in Zac�s picture, was a circle with four sticks protruding from the bottom of it. Her hair was a blue scribble that took up the entire paper, her smile a row of pointy fangs. The sun was shining. A flower was growing from the ground. �It�s very good,� Taylor said. �He�s only four.�
�It is very good,� Mrs. Golding agreed. �What else do you like to do?�
Taylor thought. �Lots of stuff. Here�s what I don�t like. When Nora�s mean to me.�
Nora bit her lip. Oh, no. . . if she said anything, she�d look like she actually had been mean to him.
Mrs. Golding shook her head. �Nora would never be mean to you,� she told Taylor.
�Yes!� Taylor shook his head emphatically. �She was mean to me this morning!�
�What did she do?� Mrs. Golding asked.
�She told me. . .� Taylor flushed at the memory. �She told me I couldn�t go to school because I was sick.�
�He had a virus yesterday,� Nora explained. How am I going to save this? she wondered. �It seemed best to keep him home another day.�
�That was for your own good.� Mrs. Golding was matter of fact, but not overly stern. �She couldn�t let you go to school, because all of the children in your class would have gotten sick. You wouldn�t want to have that.�
Taylor considered this. �Maybe not.�
�Now, Nora is a doctor, and she knows what�s best,� Mrs. Golding said. �I hope you don�t give her a hard time.�
�Oh, I always give her a hard time.� Taylor smiled cheerfully. He wasn�t bragging, he was just telling the truth. �I give her a hard time every day.�
�Young man, I�m very sorry to hear that.� Mrs. Golding looked sad. �Quite sorry.�
Taylor�s eyes grew wide. �But I only give her a little hard time. Not a big hard time.�
�You shouldn�t give her a hard time at all.� Mrs. Golding shook her head sadly.
Taylor sighed. �Dan gives her the biggest hard time.�
�That may be true,� agreed Mrs. Golding drily, as Nora flushed, �but that�s no reason why you should.�
Taylor was thinking, one fingernail in his mouth. �I know a reason why,� he said.
�Why?� Mrs. Golding raised her eyebrows.
�Because she made me stay home from school!� Taylor exclaimed, skipping down the hallway.
�And this is the basement-� a few Sminutes later, Nora and Mrs. Golding were downstairs, Taylor trailing behind them as they went from room to room. �It was finished by the people who own the house. . . I think it was the seventies. . .�
�It�s really nice down there.� Admiringly, Taylor ran his hand over the mud colored shag carpeting that covered the walls. �Nice and soft.�
�And it�s where we keep the-� Nora began.
�Gallagher!� Taylor exclaimed, grabbing Mrs. Golding�s hand and pulling her down the stairs. �Come and see!�
Nora took this opportunity to glance around the doorframe at the TV show Isaac and Zac were watching. She felt her stomach turn.
�Smith and Frederickson, having been forced from their car by members of the satanic cult, were taken to the woods and tied to stakes. While immobilized, they were sodomized, disemboweled, decapitated and burned. . .�
�Ike!� Nora whispered. �Isaac!�
He looked up, startled. �Yeah?�
�Change the channel!� Nora told him.
�But this is really neat-� Isaac began. �It�s all true.�
�Change the channel!� Nora repeated.
�Okay.� Isaac picked up the remote control and Nora ducked back downstairs.
�This is Gallagher,� Nora heard Taylor tell Mrs. Golding, who turned and headed back up the stairs, her eyes watering.
�I�m sorry, my dear, but I am very allergic to cats.� She smiled apologetically at Nora.
�Don�t cry!� Taylor called. �Come back! He�s very nice!�
Nora glanced into the living room again while Mrs. Golding was in the bathroom. �Kiss me again, Malcom,� moaned the disheveled rehead on the TV screen. �Kiss me harder, harder. . . the way you did in Venice!�
�What are you watching?� Nora demanded.
�We don�t know,� Isaac yawned.
�We don�t know how to change the channel,� Zac added. �Ike lost the clicky.�
�I didn�t lose it,� Isaac protested. �I just put it on the table and then it was gone.�
�No more TV.� Nora turned off the set. �Read a book!�
�We already readed books,� Zac told her.
�You said we were supposed to be quiet and not talk,� Isaac added.
�Fine.� Nora sighed. �Pick a movie out. But no more channels.�
�Okay,� they agreed.
�Would you like a cup of tea, Mrs. Golding?� Nora asked.
�That would be wonderful, thank you.� Mrs. Golding sat down at the kitchen table and opened her briefcase. �You did know there would be a brief interview. . .?�
Nora nodded, smiling. �Yeah. . . I�ve been worrying about it all morning.�
�It�s basic, but it�s stressful to think about,� Mrs. Golding agreed. �You must feel as if I�m trying to assess your worth as a person, and that would be nerve wracking.�
Nora nodded, sinking into the chair across from her. �That�s a good way of describing it. I guess we�ve never been. . . scrutinized so closely before. I understand the purpose of a homestudy, and I agree with it fully. . . but I�m kind of worried that we won�t make it.�
Mrs. Golding smiled. �Well, I can�t make any promises, so I probably shouldn�t be saying this. . .� She took a deep breath, phrasing her next words carefully. �I wouldn�t be too worried if I were you.�
�I don�t know.� Nora shook her head, flushing.
�I mean, barring any startling revelations,� Mrs. Golding assured her. �I feel that you and Dan have a very good chance of being approved to adopt the boys.� She sighed. �We do look hard for people who will adopt sibling groups.�
�Actually,� Nora smiled, �I actually think three is easier than one might have been.�
Mrs. Golding raised her eyebrows, interested. �Can you explain to me some of the reasons?�
�Well,� Nora said, �For one thing, as much upheaval as there has been in their lives, at least they�ve had each other.� She paused, thinking. �When they were separated, I think it was as destructive as anything else they went through, especially in light of what had happened before, with their mother.� Her eyes were faraway. �And even more superficially. . . it would be hard to keep one child busy. It would be harder to sense what he needed if he wouldn�t tell us. And-�
�They won�t let me on the couch!� Taylor wailed from the other room.
�He can�t!� Zac shrieked.
�He doesn�t know the password!� Isaac yelled.
�The password is �Elmo,�� Nora called to Taylor.
There was a pause. Isaac groaned. �How did you know?�
�Because that was the password the last time.� Nora was matter of fact.
�Ike, you need to make up a new one!� Zac admonished.
�I know,� Isaac sighed.
�Elmo!� Taylor exclaimed. �Elmo! Let me on the couch now!�
Nora turned to Mrs. Golding, smiling apologetically. She rolled her eyes. �See how much easier?� she laughed.
As hard as he�d struggled to gain a spot on the couch, Taylor had no intention of remaining there. Five minutes later he dragged Gallagher into the kitchen and deposited him in Mrs. Golding�s lap.
�He�s a really good cat,� Taylor said. �Just hold him if you don�t believe me.�
�I believe you!� Mrs. Golding sneezed. �I believe you!�
Nora was appalled. �Taylor,� she said, separating Gallagher from Mrs. Golding and hurrying him toward the basement, �Mrs. Golding will get sick if she is near the cat.�
Taylor sighed. �I was just trying to help her make friends.�
�Taylor,� Nora said, meaning business, �go find Mrs. Golding some tissues. Right now.�
When she came back upstairs after shutting Gallagher away, Nora found Taylor pursuing Mrs. Golding with the vacuum cleaner.
�Come back!� he was urging. �We can suck up all the cat hairs off of your shirt right away.�
�I don�t think that will be necessary,� Mrs. Golding sputtered into the tissue Nora handed her. �Thank you anyway.�
�I am so sorry-� Nora apologized.
�Oh, it�s quite all right.� Mrs. Golding reached into her purse and pulled out a small plastic bottle. Uncapping it, she inserted the tip into her nostril and squeezed hard, her eyebrows arching.
�What are you doing?� Taylor wanted to know. �Can I try?�
�This is medicine, dear,� Mrs. Golding told him.
�Taylor, Mrs. Golding and I are having a meeting right now,� Nora told him. �It would really help me if you stayed with Ike and Zac.�
�What�s a transvestite?� Isaac yelled from the other room.
Nora swallowed. �Excuse me for a minute,� she told Mrs. Golding. �I told you no more channels!� she whispered to Isaac in the other room.
He sighed. �I couldn�t get the movie thing to work.�
�You should have asked me,� Nora told him, turning on the VCR.
Isaac shrugged. �It was cartoons, so I thought you wouldn�t mind. What�s a transvestite?�
Nora took a deep breath. �You heard the word �transvestite� on a cartoon?�
Isaac shook his head. �On the talk show that was going to come on after. They had a commercial for it. What�s a transvestite? Is it like a Transformer?�
�Um. . .� Nora bit her lip. �Yeah.�
�Oh.� Isaac nodded. �Thanks for telling me.�
�You�re welcome.� Nora brushed Zac�s hair off his frehead and tucked a blanket around him. �Now, I am just going to finish talking to Mrs. Golding. . .�
�Why certainly, dear, I�d love to hear you sing your song,� Mrs. Golding was telling Taylor. �What is it called?�
Taylor shook his head. �I don�t know.� He took a deep breath. �And maybe I know all the words, but maybe I don�t.� He leaned forward, whispering into Mrs. Golding�s ear. �Maybe I don�t remember all of them.�
Mrs. Golding, still dabbing at her bleary eyes with a tissue, nodded. �Go ahead.�
Taylor grinned. �What did you learn in school today, dear little boy of mine? What did you learn in school today, dear little boy of mine?� He took a deep breath. �I learned that policemen are my friends, I learned that justice never ends, I learned that murderers die for the crimes, even if we make a mistake sometimes-�
�Pete Seeger?� Mrs. Golding interjected.
�I learned our government must be strong, it�s always right and never wrong, our leaders are the finest men and we elect�em again and again.� Taylor, unconsious of the sarcasm in the lyrics, sang with complete sincerity. �That�s what I learned in school today, that�s what I learned in school.�
�That�s very nice,� Mrs. Golding observed.
�There�s more,� Taylor told her. �I learned that war is not so bad, I learned about the great ones we have had, we fought�em in Germany and in France-�
When Nora came back into the kitchen and heard what Taylor was singing, she sucked in her breath. Why couldn�t he sing something pleasantly noncontroversial, like any normal six year old? Why couldn�t he sing one of the songs they sang in first grade? Why couldn�t he sing a patriotic song?
�Honey, the movie�s on,� she told Taylor.
�And someday I might get my chance!� Taylor finished, happily. �That�s what I learned in school today, that�s what I learned in school!�
�That was lovely.� Mrs. Golding smiled at Taylor. �Do you like to sing?�
�I�ll sing you another song,� Taylor volunteered. �Oh, you can�t scare me, I�m stickin� to the union, I�m stickin� to the union, I�m stickin� to the union! Oh, you can�t scare me, I�m stickin� to the union, I�m stickin� to the union, �til the day I die!�
�Woody Guthrie,� Mrs. Golding observed. �You have good taste in music.�
Taylor shook his head. �You can�t taste music,� he told Mrs. Golding. �You listen to it.�
�That�s right,� Mrs. Golding agreed. Taylor skipped out of the room, and Nora sat back down at the table.
�I�m so sorry about the cat-� Nora apologized.
�Oh, it�s quite all right,� Mrs. Golding assured her. �Now, where were we?�
Taylor stuck his head around the doorframe. �That�s how come you have ears,� he told Mrs. Golding. �So you can listen to music. And you can listen to people talking.�
�Is that so?� Mrs. Golding inquired.
�That�s so!� Taylor exclaimed.
Seven minutes later, Zac appeared in the doorway, his face flushed and his blanket dragging behind him. �It�s time to go home now,� he told Mrs. Golding, taking his thumb out of his mouth. �Your mommy misses you.�
Mrs. Golding laughed. �I need to talk to Nora for a few more minutes.�
Zac took a deep breath. �No you don�t!�
�Zac,� Nora began.
�No you don�t!� Zac handed Mrs. Golding her purse. �Your car�s outside. You can drive it home.�
�Zac, it isn�t time for Mrs. Golding to go home,� Nora told him. �She and I are talking.�
�Don�t talk anymore!� Zac proposed. �Go back to your house!�
�Zachary, come here a second.� Nora gathered Zac into her lap, where he buried his face in his blanket. �Mrs. Golding is visiting our house. She�ll feel bad if you aren�t nice to her.�
�I hope you do feel bad!� Zac lifted his head and glared at Mrs. Golding. �You can�t take me with you!�
�Zac, I am not going to take you with me,� Mrs. Golding promised. �I�m just here to talk to Nora.�
Zac considered this for a moment. �I�m not getting in your car,� he said, finally.
�You aren�t going to go with Mrs. Golding,� Nora told him.
�And I�m not watching that movie anymore,� Zac added.
�You can sit in here with me,� Nora told him.
He wrapped his arms around her neck. �If she tries to take me away, you have to tell her she�s not supposed to.�
�I would never take you away,� Mrs. Golding promised.
�And not Tay, either,� Zac told her.
�No,� Mrs. Golding agreed.
�And not Ike, either.�
�Of course not.�
�And not Dan,� Zac added, �and not Nora.�
�Not Dan,� Mrs. Golding assured him, �and not Nora.�
�But you can take Gallagher,� Zac informed her.
�I don�t want to take Gallagher,� Mrs. Golding laughed.
Zac sighed. �I wish you would.�