Nicole waited for Josefina to move so that Kimberley and Justin could go in, but Josefina stood her ground, solid as a tiki god in a Hawaiian gift shop. “Listen, Mrs. Gunther-Perrin,” she said. “I got to tell you something. Something important.”

“What?” Nicole was going to snap again. Damn it, she was late. How in hell was she going to make it to the office on time if the kids’ daycare provider wanted to stop and chat?

Josefina could hardly have missed the chill in Nicole’s tone, but she didn’t back down. “Mrs. Gunther-Perrin, I’m very sorry, but after today I can’t take care of your kids no more. I can’t take care of nobody’s kids no more.”

She did look sorry. Nicole granted her that. Was there a glisten of tears in her eyes?

Nicole was too horrified to be reasonable, and too astonished to care whether Josefina was happy, sad, or indifferent. “What?” she said. “You what? You can’t do that!”

Josefina did not reply with the obvious, which was that she perfectly well could. “I got to go home to Mexico. My mother down in Ciudad Obregon, where I come from, she very sick.” Josefina brought the story out pat. And why not? She must have told it a dozen times already, to a dozen other shocked and appalled parents. “She call me last night,” she said, “and I get the airplane ticket. I leave tonight. I don’t know when I be back. I don’t know if I be back. I’m very sorry, but I can’t help it. You give me the check for this part of the month when you pick up the kids tonight, okay?”

Then, finally, she stood a little to the side so that Kimberley and Justin could run past her. They seemed not to know or understand what she’d said, which was a small – a very small – mercy. Nicole stood numbly as they vanished into the depths of the house, staring at Josefina’s round flat face above the screaming blue of her blouse. “But – ” Nicole said. “But – ”