The screen was running David's Worldrun game-a global simulation. Worldrun had been invented as a forecasting tool for development agencies, but a glamorized version had found its way onto the street. David, who was prone to sudden enthusiasms, had been playing it for days.
Long strips of the Earth's surface peeled by in a simulated satellite view. Cities glowed green with health or red with social disruption. Cryptic readouts raced across the bottom of the screen. Africa was a mess. "It's always Africa, isn't it?"
she said.
"Yeah." He resealed a tube of antiseptic gel. "Looks like a rope burn. It didn't bleed much. It'll scab.
"I'll be okay." She stood up, lifting Loretta, and disguis- ing the pain for his sake. The rawness faded as the gel soaked in. She smiled. "I need a shower."
David's watchphone beeped. It was Laura's mother, calling from her guest room in the Lodge, downstairs.
"Ohayo, y'all! How about helping Granny surround some breakfast?"
David was amused. "I'll be down in a minute, Margaret.
Don't eat anything with the hide still on it." They went upstairs to their bedroom.
Laura gave him the baby and stepped into the bathroom, which shut behind her.
Laura could not understand why David actively liked her mother. He'd insisted on her right to see her grandchild, though Laura hadn't met her mother face to face in years.
David was taking naive pleasure in his mother-in-law's stay, as if a week-long visit could smooth over years of unspoken resentment.
To David, family ties seemed natural and solid, the way things should be. His own parents doted on the baby. But
Laura's parents had split when she was nine, and she'd been raised by her grandmother. Laura knew that family was a luxury, a hothouse plant.
Laura stepped into the tub and the curtain shunted shut.
The sun-warmed water washed the tension from her; she put family troubles out of mind. She stepped out and blew her hair dry. It fell into place-she wore a simple cut, short, with light feathery bangs. Then she confronted herself in the mirror.