Free House Arrest by Ellen Meeropol

work he did to make a living, when he rarely left the house. That was his concern, I’d always told myself, even if it might be dicey. He was an odd duck, sporting a retro handlebar mustache with waxed tips. But I believed in people minding their own business.
    Except I was grateful that Aunt Ruth liked to butt in on everyone else’s affairs. Living with Anna had been her suggestion. Aunt Ruth was my mother’s only sister and she took us in when my father went to prison. She was the social director, keeping track of every relative who ever lived on Saperstein Neck. When I left the island after high school, she wrote me newsy letters, even though I rarely answered. I telephoned her when I realized it was no good with Chad, to let her know I was moving down to Massachusetts. She reminded me that my cousin Anna lived in Springfield. My strongest memory of Anna was as a forlorn teenager at her parents’ funeral, after they drowned when their sailboat overturned in Penobscot Bay. We had never been close, even though her mother was my dad’s sister. Anna’s mom had disapproved of my parents and discouraged our friendship as kids, but that didn’t prevent Aunt Ruth from producing Anna’s phone number, and insisting that I get in touch.
    “You two will get along great,” Aunt Ruth predicted. “You even look like kin, both so tall and slim.”
    I stared at the snowy night sky, chopped into small squares by the windows. Aunt Ruth couldn’t have predicted how much I would love Zoe.
    Before Zoe, I had never known a person with spina bifida. Oh, I had studied the condition in nursing school. And one night, working labor and delivery in Portland, I assisted at the delivery of a baby with a glistening red sack at the base of his spine. A riptide of silence rushed through the delivery rooms and spilled out into the sad blue hallway. There was a defeated look on that mother’s face as she listened to the obstetrician explain that her son had a birth defect and would never walk. Anna said they told her and Sam the same thing when Zoe was born. Anna still ranted and fumed about it sometimes.
    Anna never told me the whole story of Zoe’s birth. Just that when the ultrasound showed the hole in Zoe’s spine, Sam wanted an abortion and she wanted the baby. Anna won. Turned out she didn’t entirely win because Sam couldn’t handle it. He moved to the upstairs flat on Zoe’s first birthday. In his own way, Sam was a good father. His work schedule seemed infinitely flexible, and he was always available. The arrangement worked for everyone. Especially for me. I loved Zoe, and Anna was like a sister. Only I never had a sister and neither did Anna, so what did we know? Maybe this was even better.
    •
    Once Zoe was asleep, Anna joined me on the wicker loveseat.
    “She okay?” I asked.
    “Fine.” Anna wrapped a ratty quilt around her shoulders. “Some girls at school were mean to her, wouldn’t let her join their club.”
    I sat up straight. “What happened?”
    Anna waved her hand in the air. “That’s the way kids are. She’ll forget about it by tomorrow.”
    “Aren’t you going to say something to her teacher?”
    “Kids can be brutal. I see it every day. Zoe has to get tough.”
    She was probably right to ignore the classroom malice. But I kept picturing Zoe standing alone on the playground. I did a lot of that as the new kid at the island school.
    Anna held out an envelope.
    “What’s that?” I left it fluttering in the air between us.
    “From Aunt Ruth, to both of us. Your grandfather is still in a coma.” Anna turned to face me and I saw Aunt Ruth’s pale yellow notepaper peeking under the ripped flap. “If he dies, we’ll drive back for his funeral.”
    “No.”
    “We have to,” she said. “We’ll go together.”
    Who made her boss? Ivan was my grandfather, Anna’s great uncle. I pushed the envelope back toward her. “We can’t both go. I’ll stay here with Zoe.”
    “She can stay with Sam.”
    I