The visitors haven’t been trickling in; they’ve been in floods. Jack answers the phone on autopilot and holds it out for me. “Sergeant Jennings.” The look on his face makes it clear he finds the company and phone calls irritating. I’m sure he’d rather me hole up in bed until the Rapture. I take it from him and slouch on the couch beside a sleeping Stripes. “Hi.” “How are you feeling? You’d better be getting some rest.” “I’m okay. We’ve had a lot of visitors.” “If the company bothers you I can call patrol in your parking lot, tell them not to let friends up. I don’t want you overexerting yourself or getting stressed. It’s bad for you and the baby.” I peek through the blinds overlooking the parking lot. Aaron and Brett’s relief sit there, engine idling. Two people are inside the unit, but I only see their hands from this angle. Refusing visitors won’t bode well. Then people would blow up the answering machine with worried messages. They need to see that I’m fine, and I can’t blame them. I’d do the same if it had happened to a friend. “It’ll stop eventually. I guess it’s nice they care.”
