“Since we’re all here…” she began—then waited. Anna was still texting. “Anna?”
Anna lifted one finger to indicate wait one minute. She finished her text, then lifted her head, alert. “I’ll all ears, boss.”
“I’m glad we’re all here, but before we begin, Anna, could you put on your mask?”
“But we all live here. Doesn’t that make us a pod?” She looked at John. “Well, not you. But still.”
“But still,” John said, then pointed to his mask, “I’m wearing a mask.”
“Why are you even here?” Anna asked him. “You don’t live here.” She looked at Linnea, a question burning in her eyes.
“Hope and John have this hide-and-seek game going on, and we spend a lot of time together in Emmi’s garden. I thought it was a good idea for us all to be on the same page for rules regarding Covid. And, Anna, I thought we’d discussed this.” She looked meaningfully at Hope.
“Fine.” Anna rose and went to her room.
“Where’d she go?” asked Hope.
“To get her mask,” Linnea said. “In fact, Hope, when we are all together inside, I want you to wear your mask too. Especially since you might be catching a cold. Can you get it, please?”
“Okay.” Hope climbed to her feet and scampered off to her room.
Linnea looked to John and asked in a soft, strained voice, “What’s the big deal?”
John just shrugged, then looked over his shoulder as Anna returned wearing a mask in a camo design. She plopped back into her chair, then pointed with both hands to her mask in a gesture of okay now? In contrast, Hope reappeared wearing a pink polka-dot mask, one of many adorable masks Cara had delivered, and settled back on the floor, happy to be included in the group of grown-ups.
Linnea strove for the positive. “I know these are strange times and we’re all trying to learn how to deal with the new normal, but I want us to think how we can make this time special. Unique. I’m not trying to be a Pollyanna, but it seems to me we can either see this time as an opportunity to do things we wouldn’t otherwise have had time to do. Or”—she shrugged—“we moan about it and feel miserable. I vote for the former.”
“Sounds like a plan,” John said.
Anna huffed a short laugh. “Sorry, but it still sounds a bit Pollyanna to me.”
Linnea groaned inwardly and hoped again she hadn’t made a mistake inviting Annabelle, Anna, or whatever name she chose to use, to move in. What was going on with her? She’d seemed so eager to move in. Sometimes Anna could be negative, but she had shown she could be supportive if she chose. She’d been a real ally at the aquarium, standing by her when Linnea initiated new programs. Linnea had hoped this would be a time for bonding. But now…
“Thank you,” Linnea said in a chilly tone.
Anna shook her head. “Hey, I’m joking. I’m all for being positive.” She mock power-punched the sky. “Woo-hoo.”
Linnea took a breath and met John’s eyes. The green sparkled with mirth and he barely perceptibly lifted his bottle in support.
“Okay, then, let’s get down to the rules.”
“What’s your puppy’s name?” asked Anna out of the blue.
“What?” Linnea shifted gears.
“She doesn’t have a name,” said Hope.
“We haven’t given her a name yet,” Linnea explained, stroking the puppy asleep in her lap. “Hope can’t quite make up her mind, can you?”
Hope shook her head, her gaze fixed on her puzzle.
“What names do you like?” John asked her.
Hope straightened, taking John’s question seriously. “I like Moonpie, because my daddy calls me that on account of I love the moon. We always watch the full moon together.” She turned to Linnea. “When is the full moon?”
“Next week. I put it on the calendar.”
“Moonpie is a great name,” said Anna.
Linnea said, “But it’s Hope’s special name from her daddy. I don’t think the dog should take it. She also likes Maggie and Gigi, don’t you?”
“I guess.” Hope shrugged and said in a bit of a whine, “But I love the moon.”
John leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Your name in Spanish is Esperanza, right?”
Linnea knew that Hope’s biological mother had named her Esperanza, and that at adoption, Cara had given her the name Hope in honor of her Spanish name.
“Uh-huh,” Hope told him. “Esperanza means hope.”
“Well,” John continued, “moon in Spanish is luna. You could call the dog Luna. Then you’d both have a Spanish name too.”
“Luuuunaaaa.” Hope rolled the name in her mouth, testing it. She brightened. “I like that name!”
Linnea swallowed her smile, thinking Hope would like any name John suggested. She looked at the brown and white dog in her lap, thought of her luminous eyes, and said, “I do too. It’s perfect, and easy for the puppy to learn. What do you think, Esperanza? Should we call her Luna?”
“Yes, that’s her name! Luna!” Hope promptly scrambled to her feet and climbed up onto the sofa. She reached out and dragged the sleeping puppy into her lap.
“Careful now,” Linnea said, worried about her rough handling of the puppy. Hope didn’t know better, and Linnea had grown inordinately fond of Luna and thus protective.
As the adults conducted a serious discussion of the house rules, Hope began sneezing and her red-rimmed eyes watered. Anna made a joke of leaning farther back in her chair, away from germs.
Linnea didn’t laugh. Growing alert, she studied Hope’s reaction. The sneezing, the watery eyes, the nasal congestion… they all got worse when she was near the puppy.
“I wonder if she doesn’t have a cold after all, but allergies.” She looked at John. “The first night I put the puppy in her bedroom, she started sneezing. I thought it was a cold. The puppy whined and cried, so naturally I moved her into my room instead. Hope didn’t get any worse, but she was still sneezing—and now that I think about it, the sneezing and watery eyes began when the dog came into the house.” She paused, reality dawning. Linnea looked at Hope and said, “Oh no. I think you might be allergic to the dog.”
“I’m not ’lergic,” Hope said with a quivering lip, and held the dog tighter.
“You’d better put keep the dog away from Hope on your list of house rules,” said Anna.
Linnea shot her a look. “That’s not helpful.”
“But it’s the truth,” Anna said, lifting her hands.
John got up and walked to Hope’s side. “May I see Luna?”
Hope nodded as she rubbed her eyes.
John stooped to gently pick up the puppy and cradled it in his arms. Luna, yet another female besotted with John, began licking his face. She looked so small against his large frame. He moved away from Hope to the perimeter of the room and settled the pup in his arms.
“The way I see it, we established some important ground rules tonight,” John said in an even voice, but his look toward Anna was loaded with meaning. “We all wear masks near Hope. And to that point, wash hands a lot and practice social distancing. Basically, follow the CDC ruling. Lest we forget, the number of cases worldwide passed one million. Anna, you really should stay secluded in your room for the next two weeks. You just moved in, and even if you’ve pretty much stayed home, you don’t know if you’re a carrier and I don’t think you want to put Hope in jeopardy.”