Superpowers (26 page)

TUESDAY

Scott looked around the food court and spotted Caroline sitting by herself. He hesitated—Caroline made him nervous—but finally walked toward her table. "Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked. She looked up from a copy of
The Campus Voice.
"Sure." Scott set his tray down and settled into the chair opposite Caroline.

"I saw you on the news," he said. "I mean, they mentioned you. They said you saved a jumper last night."

"Jesus, say it a little louder, could you?"

He looked at the tables nearby, but it didn't seem like anyone had heard. "Sorry," he whispered. "It's just that I thought you were all taking a break."

"Maybe it wasn't me."

He scooped kung pao chicken over white rice. "Wasn't it? The news said—"

"Do you need to be in on everything I do?"

"I was just wondering if you guys started up again and forgot to tell me. In case you needed help with anything."

She laughed. He tried to ignore it, but he could feel his face burning.

"Are you laughing at me?" he asked.

"Look," she said, "I don't mean to be a bitch, but are we your new girlfriend? I mean, ever since we told you about all this, you want to be in on everything. Jack said you moped for days after we went to Milwaukee without you. It's like you're jealous."

"I'm not jealous. I just want to help. I mean, the Avengers have Rick Jones and Jarvis. The Justice League had Snapper Carr."

"That's great, but my life is not a comic book." She frowned. "You know, I don't think we've ever had a conversation that wasn't about my powers. You never even talked to me before you found out about this."

"That's not true," he said, but he wasn't sure he was right. "We've talked."

"Not actual conversation. Is the fact that I can fly the only thing interesting about me?"

"No."

"What else, then?"

"Well, you're ..."

"What?"

"You're beautiful." He knew it was the wrong thing to say, but the only thing he could think of to do was keep talking. "Would you maybe want to go out sometime?"

Her face went blank. "You're really creepy sometimes, you know that?"

He looked at the table. "I'm sorry."

She picked up her newspaper. "I have to get across campus for my next class."

After she left he ate alone. He was sure everyone was staring at him. The kung pao tasted awful, and he threw it out before finishing half of it.

WEDNESDAY

She had collected one too many syllabi, and now she couldn't close her backpack. Wednesday was Mary Beth's biggest class day: four lectures, a lab, and Professor Smith's seminar. She'd been on campus for eleven hours now, and she had two worksheets and three hundred pages for tomorrow. And she didn't care about any of it.

She gave up on the zipper, knowing she could force it but knowing that doing so would destroy the zipper and possibly the backpack too. She'd had all summer to adjust to her new strength, but simple things still tripped her up. Shoelaces were a frequent casualty, and Caroline and Harriet wouldn't let her do dishes anymore. She didn't forget as much now, but she still forgot. And whenever she did she saw Charlie lying on her bed, hurt, Charlie telling her he didn't want to see her anymore.

"Miss Layton?" Professor Smith stood near the door in his tweed jacket and tie. Mary Beth realized she was the last student to leave the room. "Yes?"

"You were very quiet today. Does Ezra Pound stir nothing in you?"

She stood, mindful that none of her books tumbled out of the half-opened backpack. "I'm sorry. I've got some things on my mind."

"It is not my portion to be concerned with such things. High as my hopes are for you, your voice in discussions will make the difference between a glorious future in this department and a swift departure. Your problems outside of this classroom must remain outside this classroom."

"I can't forget about everything just because you want my attention. Life doesn't work like that."

"On the contrary. Future employers will expect your best performance regardless of any drama occurring outside the workplace. It is the same here. If you cannot meet that requirement, I do not want you in my course."

"You asked me to take this course, and now you want me to quit?"

"I want you to understand my expectations. The fact that I think you are astute earns you no special treatment. If anything, I will expect more from you."

"What if I can't meet your expectations?"

"Then you will fail, and I will become infinitesimally more embittered at my inability to get through to worthy students. So please, for both of our sakes, set whatever it is aside and focus on what you are doing."

Mary Beth left the classroom without saying good-bye.
Set it aside?
Charlie hated her, Jack was dying, and all the good they had done over the summer was falling into nothing.

In the stairwell she lashed out with her fist. She pulverized a fist-sized chunk of the wall, and a large crack appeared. She ran down the steps and out of the building before anyone investigated.

THURSDAY

Dr. McAllister was a wonderful obstetrician and a sweet man, and as telegenic as spoiled ham. He was short, had lost most of his hair, and was forever scratching his nose. But he had been Prudence's doctor from the beginning, and she wasn't about to dump him for someone sexier. Ratings were up since she'd agreed to let the station turn her pregnancy into a miniseries. She'd compromised herself as far as she was comfortable. She wondered if the next time would be easier.

"OK." Tommy killed his light and lowered the camera. "I'm going to try another angle."

Dr. McAllister released the breath he'd been holding. "It's just a camera. Why does it make me so nervous?"

"You're doing great." Prudence touched his arm, both to reassure him and to remind him she was there. Ratings stunt or no, in six weeks she was going to pass a human being, and she didn't need her doctor to be dazzled by the lights.

"Thank you, dear. So are you, in fact. Very healthy, mother and baby both. I was wondering if you had changed your mind about finding out the baby's gender."

"We still don't want to know." She glanced at Gil. She was worried that he felt left out of decisions about the baby, although he'd said more than once that he'd have his say when he carried the child.

He squeezed her hand, and nodded. "It's a terrible strain on my mother. She's bought everything in pink and blue both. But we want to be surprised."

"I understand." Dr. McAllister scratched his nose with his thumb. "It's just that I'm terrible with secrets. I have this urge to blurt it out. Have you thought about names?"

"If it's a girl, Amanda."

"Or Serendipity," said Gil.

Prudence elbowed him. "My husband wants a brood of children named for the virtues."

"We should at least have Truth, Justice, and the American Way."

Dr. McAllister chuckled. "You shouldn't tempt the fates. You'd almost certainly end up with a liar, a criminal, and a traitor."

"I just want
this
baby to be healthy," said Prudence. "We can talk about the brood later."

"As I said, the heartbeat is strong, there's good development, position is optimal. I'd recommend you start taking time off, but I know you too well to expect that."

"Actually, I was thinking about it."

The room went silent. Even Tommy stopped adjusting his tripod and looked shocked. "Really?"

"Don't worry, Tommy. The station will get its updates. But I told Bill earlier today that I'd only be working through next week. It's time for me and this kid to spend some quality time together, let the husband wait on us hand and foot." Gil looked frightened. "That was a joke, honey."

"Which part?"

"Oh, I'm taking the time. A month before the baby comes, and two months after."

"I approve," said Dr. McAllister.

"Thank you, Doctor. Now. You boys ready for another shot? Tommy?"

FRIDAY

Fern sipped coffee and held the phone while Quinn talked. She'd emptied the dishwasher, taken out the garbage, and scoured the sink during the call, but she'd finally had to sit down to wait for Quinn to run out of steam. Fern used to start doing housework during these calls to signal that it was time for her to get off the phone, but Quinn had never gotten the hint. Now it was just habit.

Fern was trying to think of an exit line. She couldn't tell Quinn that she had to run errands, because Quinn would tell Fern she needed to get a cell phone. She couldn't tell Quinn that Grace needed to use the phone, because she'd want to talk to Grace, and Grace wasn't home. She couldn't tell Quinn she was tired, because Quinn would worry, and they were all worrying enough already.

"How's Morty?" Quinn asked.

"I haven't talked to him in about a week. School just started."

"He hasn't been to see you? I asked him to keep an eye on you."

"I don't need watching, Quinn. Grace is here, and I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

"I know." Quinn didn't sound convinced. "It's— Ursula and I were talking. I wonder if you'd think about moving up here. I know Gracie has another year of school, but once she's gone you'll be by yourself. I don't like to think of you being there all alone."

"You think I should sell the farm."

"Well, what are you going to do? Run it all by yourself?"

"I've thought about it. The Carlsons are doing good work, I could ask them to stay on."

"Mom, I don't know why you'd want to do that. I love the farm, but Randy says—"

"I know what Randy says." Fern had learned to tolerate Randy, but more than once she'd had to leave a room to keep herself from throwing something at him.

"You know, Zeke," he'd said shortly after he and Quinn had announced their engagement, "the time of the family farm has passed. You should think about developing this land. I know some contractors." He'd kept on like that, oblivious to Lloyd's glares and Quinn's poking him in the arm, until Zeke told him how much he'd made off the farm in the past year.

Fern's loss was palpable then, a lack in her arms and her chest. She shut her eyes, squeezing back tears.

"Mom?" Quinn sounded sorry for whatever it was she'd just said. "Are you mad at me?"

"No, honey." To her own ears, Fern's voice sounded husky with emotion. "I'll think about it. I have to go now."

"OK, Mom. I'm going to call Morty right now and—"

"I'll talk to you later, honey." Fern hung up, expecting to burst out crying. But nothing came.