Free Keep Your Mouth Shut and Wear Beige by Kathleen Gilles Seidel

have to eat again in two hours.” They were meeting Mike, Claudia, and Mike’s mother for afternoon tea at the Ritz-Carlton.
    “Finney, you should use the bathroom before we go,” Rose said. “Ask Jeremy where it is.”
    Obediently, Finney went upstairs. I heard him moving around, looking in the bedrooms. I wondered if he had forgotten Jeremy’s directions or if he was just curious about the rest of the house. When he came down, he spoke hopefully. “Lunch again first?”
    “You can have a snack in the car,” Rose said to him.
    “Okay,” he said agreeably. “But Mrs. Van Darcy. I like her food. She makes good food.”
    “That’s certainly the truth,” Guy agreed and rumpled Finney’s hair. “You have good taste, Mr. Finney. We’ll certainly know where to find you if you ever run away from home.”
    Finney giggled, probably responding more to Guy’s tone than his actual words. But the words did give me an idea. I spoke quietly to Rose. “Would Finney like to spend the rest of the afternoon here? We’re not doing anything special, but it has to be better for him than tea at the Ritz.”
    Rose paused.
    I understood. She couldn’t be used to this, leaving Finney at other people’s houses on the spur of the moment. Between his allergies and his cognitive disability, she couldn’t just leave him someplace and hope for the best.
    “Cami will be here,” I reminded her.
    “Okay . . .” she said slowly. Then she waved a hand. “What’s wrong with me? His sister, a nurse, and a pediatrician. Of course it’s okay. Thank you. He will be thrilled.”
    Finney brightened immediately when being asked if he wanted to spend the afternoon at Jeremy’s mother’s house. “And sleep here? I want . . . no, no, ask a question . . . May I sleep here? Please. Mrs. Van Darcy.”
    I glanced at Rose. Clearly she, not Guy, made these decisions. She nodded. “There’s a sofa bed outside Zack’s room,” I said to Finney, “if you want to sleep there.”
    Annie was just returning from her bathroom trip. “Sofa bed!” he told her eagerly. “I’m going to sleep on a sofa bed! Outside Zack’s room. A sofa bed.”
    “You’re staying here?” Her voice was edged with envy.
    The envy surprised me. Annie hadn’t made a great impression on me. I don’t like vain people, and clearly she was very vain. I would have thought that a room at the Ritz would be much more to her liking than my small house, but clearly I was wrong.
    “Do you want to stay too, Annie?” I asked as if I still lived in a big house. “I have no idea where you’ll sleep, but we’ll find someplace.”
    “Really?” She too looked delighted. “I can sleep with Finney, I don’t care.” Her bracelets jingled as she turned to Rose. “Can I, Mom? Please.”
    “If it’s all right with Darcy,” Rose said, “but you have to work on that paper.”
    “I will. I promise I will.”
    Rose looked as if she believed that exactly as much as I would have believed such a promise from Zack.
    “This is quite a big treat for you, young man,” Guy said to Finney. “But, Miss Queenie, I suppose you’ll want all your luggage.”
    Apparently “Miss Queenie” was his endearment for Annie. “Oh, come on, Dad”—her smile was teasing—“it’s not that much.”
    As they went off to unload the luggage, Rose picked up her purse. “Finney has an EpiPen in his fanny pack.”
    That was a question as much as a statement. She wanted to be sure that I knew what an EpiPen was. Of course, I did. It was a single dose of epinephrine in a spring-loaded syringe. Carried by people with severe allergies, it was a life-saving device, designed for self-injection in case of anaphylaxis.
    “We haven’t taught Finney to use it yet,” she said, “but he always has it on him. And here’s a backup.” She handed me a slim case that she had taken out of her purse.
    Back outside, I caught Dad’s attention and pointed to Finney’s fanny pack, mouthing, “EpiPen.” He