Katriina wonders if she can stay in bed forever, if she could be one of those people who has a nervous breakdown. As if on cue, she hears Petey’s footsteps padding down the hallway towards the bathroom. She knows it is Petey – he is the early riser, the first one up in the morning, happily munching on cereal in front of the television before his brother climbs out of bed a few hours later, grumpy and bedraggled. Katriina’s mother claims this is because Petey was born in the morning and Tommy was born in the evening, but really it’s just the only time of day Petey can get any peace from his older brother. Katriina understands this – it is why, most mornings, she is awake before Shawn. Of course, now that he is gone, she wishes he were here, that they could linger in bed together for one more minute, one more hour, one more morning; that she could feel his presence, boisterous and all-encompassing even in sleep, his breath filling the room with each exhale, depleting it with each inhale. She hated that when he was here. She would like that back now.

She sits up abruptly, swings her feet onto the floor. She’s acting like an idiot. They had a stupid fight, that’s all. He has only been gone one night, just one night, blowing off steam. It’s not like their marriage is over. It’s not like he’s never coming back. Besides, she does not have the luxury of being able to have a nervous breakdown. She has children to care for and houses to sell, she has month-end and a mother-in-law in the hospital and a body to re-prime for pregnancy. She has things to do. She doesn’t have time to be depressed.

8 a.m.

“I want Froot Loops,” says Tommy.

“You can’t have Froot Loops today, bud, we’re all out. Have Cheerios.”

“Ugh. I hate Cheerios. They’re like fake Froot Loops.”

“Like the anti–Froot Loop!” Petey chimes in.

“Like evil twin Froot Loops!”

“Like ghost Froot Loops!”

“Like zombie Froot Loops!”

“You like zombies, bud.”

“Yeah, but not for breakfast. Come on.”

“Yeah, Mom, come on.”