The call from Janet came at half past ten.
Amara was still in the hallway, still holding the magazine she had not read, still sitting in the particular stillness of someone waiting for a performance to settle into reality when her phone rang with the specific ringtone she had assigned to the office line.
She looked at the screen. Janet. Which meant something at Ara required her physical presence, not just her voice, and required it now.
She set the magazine down. She went upstairs. Baby Josh was awake.
He was not crying he was in the particular alert state of a baby who has slept enough and is now interested in the ceiling, tracking the slow rotation of the mobile above his crib with the concentrated, serious attention of someone engaged in genuinely important research.
