“Actually, it was sort of my fault. I was so excited to see the baby. She’s right in the front of the window. I was playing with her, tapping on the glass. Then all of a sudden she started crying…all alone.” Cindy pouted. “So I went inside the nursery and asked if like, maybe someone could pick her up. For no reason, the nurse started screaming at me that she wasn’t anyone’s personal nanny, and if I didn’t leave instantly, I was going to infect all the babies. She made me feel like Typhoid Cindy. I wasn’t even near them!”

“Nurses sometimes get a little territorial,” Marge said.

“Yeah, you should have heard her rant when I asked if I could hold my sister. She started interrogating me: Just who was I, and what was my business with the baby anyway?”

“They have to be cautious, Cindy.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I figured if Dad came and said I was okay…” Cindy shrugged. “It’s not the right time. I’ll just go back and play with her through the window…if Marie doesn’t boot me away.”

“Marie’s the nurse?”

“Ms. Prune Face in white.”

Decker came over to them. “Ms. Prune Face in white?”

Cindy said, “The nurse who gave me a hard time about holding my sister.”

“What?” Decker said. “When was this?”

“Just a moment ago.”

“Why’d she give you a hard time?”

“Because she’s a weirdo.”

Marge said, “Cindy went into the nursery without being suited up. The nurse might have overreacted a little.”

“I wasn’t in the actual part where the babies were.”

“Cindy, please don’t make waves,” Decker said. “Not now, hon, okay?”

Cindy nodded and kissed her father’s cheek. “You really should see your new daughter, Daddy. She’s beautiful—all pink and bundled. And she has a loud, healthy cry. I could hear it through the window.”

“Wonderful,” Marge muttered.

“Keep an eye on her for me,” Decker said. “Just…”

“I know,” Cindy said. “I’ll keep it muzzled until we’re all back to normal. I can swim with that.”

Magda was carrying an armload of cellophane-wrapped snacks. Sammy was sandwiched between his brother and grandfather, his head resting against the old man’s side. Stefan had his arm around Sam’s waist. Sam’s complexion was pasty; his gait was slow and clumsy. Decker ran over and swooped the boy in his arms.

“Good Lord, what’s wrong?”

“I alone gave blood,” Sammy whispered. “That’s because I’m a manly, manly man.”

Decker smiled. Since his bar mitzvah, whenever there was a task requiring some physical strength, Sammy would always volunteer to do it, claiming that now he was a manly man. Decker placed his stepson on the couch.

“If you’re Dracula, I already gave at the office,” Sammy said.