Page 28 of The Delivery

and she is already screaming by the time she lifts her feet, high-stepping idiotically in the paste that she sees now is merely sap, sap scraped off Jackson’s roof and smeared vengefully across their porch.

“Mommy, what’s wrong? What’s wrong, Mo—”

And now Maddy has rushed to her side, embracing her hips, and her bare feet, too, are mired in the sap that Jackson caked on their doorstep, and she is screaming, on sensory overload. Rebecca snaps into real time, calming herself, trying to soothe Maddy.

“It’s okay, Maddy. It’s just sap. Mommy got confused. I just—”

But Maddy is already fully gone, not workable. She’s stomping her feet in an agony of hypersensitivity, stimming violently, eyes smashed shut, hands flapping. Rebecca scoops her up to get her off the sticky layer of sap, but Maddy thrashes against her, and she has to tighten her grip, shushing her, rocking her.

“It’s okay. We’re gonna wash it right off.”

A flutter of movement next door pulls her eye, and she spots Jackson in his living room window. His face doesn’t look triumphant, not at all. In fact, it wears an uncharacteristic expression of regret. He pulls back, and the curtains fall forward, washing him from view.

Maddy is still howling to wake up the neighborhood.

“Ssh ssh sshhh. Maddy, I got you, baby girl. We’re just gonna—”

A hand sets down on Rebecca’s shoulder.

She yelps.

Mr. Man stands inside just across the threshold, hidden in shadow. He notes her concern, looks down at the porch and then back up at her. “Would you like me to take care of this?”

She feels an urge to hug him, this strange man with smooth features. “Yes. Thank you.”

Still hushing Maddy, she shuffles inside, halting to look at the tar-like footprints she is tracking across the vinyl tiles of their tiny foyer.

Mr. Man holds an arm wide to direct her back toward Maddy’s bathroom.

Chapter 21

Maddy can’t tolerate the smell of rubbing alcohol so Rebecca scrubs her feet with olive oil. It takes a while, but that’s okay because another tantrum would take even longer.

Maddy sits on the edge of the bathtub, slumped sleepily as Rebecca kneels inside, warm olive oil water sloshing around her knees. By the time she is done, Maddy is exhausted enough to go right to bed.

Rebecca tucks her in and eases from the bedroom. She stands a moment in the hall, hand on the doorknob, and exhales a long breath at the ceiling.

She peers up the hall, but there are no sap marks anymore from their feet. The tiles shine pristinely.

Retracing her steps, she marvels at the cleaning job. She passes the nursery’s open door, the prism’s lid standing open, a grand piano effect.

She expects to find Mr. Man outside on the porch, but he is nowhere in sight.

The porch, too, is spotless, the smell of rubbing alcohol heavy in the air.

That’s how he managed to clean everything up so swiftly.

Glaring at Jackson’s unlit house, she calls Mark at the office.

“Hi, Beccs, just on a Zoom with Taiwan, crunching some numbers. I’ll be outta here in a few. Can we talk when I get home?”

“Yes,” she says. “Sure.”

He clicks off, neglecting to say goodbye.

She withdraws into the house, throws the dead bolt, checks the kitchen. No sign of Mr. Man there, either, but Bao-Bao thumps in his cage, wanting love. Rebecca takes him out and cuddles him, rubbing her face in the velvet-soft fur of his neck. She looks out into the backyard, but it, too, is empty.

She puts Bao-Bao away and pads quietly down the hall.