Lost Immunity Daniel Kalla (reading women TXT) 📖

third time, and she finally pulls it out. As soon as she spots Dominic’s name on the screen, she remembers their couples’ counseling appointment that’s supposed to be in twenty minutes. Oh, crap! This is all I need right now. Even though it’s not intentional, Lisa still resents her husband’s intrusion into her work at this critical juncture.

Lisa turns toward the main lodge. “Thank you, Maisy, you’ve been a big help. We’ll be in touch.”

“You haven’t seen the rest of the facilities.”

“Our team will be back soon,” Tyra assures Maisy, picking up on Lisa’s urgency. “We’re going to need to do an environmental survey—take swabs for bacteria and such.”

Lisa grabs Tyra’s wrist and pulls her toward the parking area. “I’ve got to get back downtown. And I need your best Formula 1 driving.”

CHAPTER 7

The room is cold, by preference. A steaming cup of tea sits, with the bag still steeping inside it, beside the keyboard. On the screen, the web browser is set again to incognito mode, just as it was at the eureka moment. The memory is still so fresh, as if it happened yesterday, rather than several months ago. It’s not surprising. After all, that was when the whole plan gelled.

There had been nothing unusual about the day up until that point. The predictable work routine followed by the usual dogged research at night. And several more dead-end searches. Then one obscure website popped up on-screen. Nothing at first indicated that it would be a game changer. The site listed the twenty most allergy-inducing ingredients, which was neither informative nor helpful. But below those, it also divulged the agents most likely to initiate a cellular immune reaction. The kind of delayed response that would take days to manifest.

It felt as if the clouds suddenly parted, revealing not just a few stars but the entire Milky Way all at once.

Almost a year later, it still does.

CHAPTER 8

If Lisa were to ever review the seafood restaurant online, her take on it would read like most of the others, which average three and a half stars. Spectacular views. Good service. Food left me wanting.

But its kid-friendly environment—especially the attached playroom where her niece loves to lose herself—and the restaurant’s location, at the water’s edge of Belltown, is reason enough for them to come back as often as they do.

Despite—or maybe because of—her trying day, Lisa basks in the view through the floor-to-ceiling windows beside her. The sun is beginning to dip over Elliott Bay and the Olympic Mountain range beyond. A cruise ship drifts away from the neighboring pier. Sailboats and other pleasure craft dot the water as a ferry makes for the horizon with its running lights already on.

Deadly outbreaks, controversial vaccinations, and futile counseling sessions all seem more distant from where Lisa sits across from her sister, while sharing a chair with her niece, Olivia.

Drawing on the back of the kids’ menu, Olivia uses a royal-blue marker to frantically color in the sky above a vessel that Lisa thinks is meant to be the cruise ship but might be the ferry. Either way, it’s a pretty damned good likeness for a six-year-old.

“Is this for my office collection, Liv?” Lisa asks.

“Not sure, Tee.” While auntie was one of the first words Olivia ever attempted, it came out more like “Tee” and the nickname stuck. “We’ll just have to see.”

Lisa ruffles Olivia’s curly hair. “I liked you better when you didn’t have such a mouth on you.”

Without looking up from her drawing, Olivia says, “You’re not helping your case, Tee.”

Lisa laughs in surprise. “Now you’re just channeling your dad.”

Amber rolls her eyes. “The crap this one picks up from Allen.”

Olivia drops the marker, sweeps up the drawing, and holds it out to Lisa. “You can have it, Tee.” She grins. “This time.”

“It’s not worth anything if it isn’t signed.”

Olivia grabs a black marker and signs her name deliberately, in the cursive she only recently learned, in the bottom right corner. “Happy?” she asks, dropping the marker on the table.

“Ecstatic.” Lisa pulls Olivia into a hug and kisses her on the forehead.

Olivia wriggles free and turns to Amber. “Mommy, can I go play?” As soon as her mother nods, she shoots out of her chair.

“What the hell? Did I miss her nineteenth birthday or something?” Lisa asks as she watches her niece race toward the playroom.

“That one came out of the womb sassy, remember?” Amber reaches for her quarter-full glass of Pinot Noir and views Lisa curiously. “So?”

“So, what?”

“You and Dominic… the counseling?”

Lisa looks out the window. The ferry is just a blip on the horizon now against the setting sun. “One step forward, two steps back. Sometimes three.”

“The way he acted when you were named the chief public-health officer…” Amber shakes her head. “It takes time to repair that kind of damage.”

“Sometimes you can’t repair it. Dad taught us that. Remember?”

“Don’t even start,” her sister groans.

“Besides, the harder Dom tries, the worse it makes things. What does that say about me?”

“That you’re pretty fucked up.”

Lisa laughs. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Amber takes a sip of her wine. “Hey, my friend Helen went to your vaccine forum today.”

Lisa wondered how long it would take her sister to get around to the topic. “And she’s now totally sold on the HPV vaccine, is she?”

Amber shrugs. “She told me you got into quite the debate with some cute doctor in the audience. Said he was very convincing.”

“Any chance Helen might have already been on his side?” Lisa reaches for the glass of wheat ale that comes from one of the countless local craft breweries whose name she can’t recall. “Like you are.”

“You’ve got to stop taking this so personally.”

“What? That I work for Public Health and my sister is an anti-vaxxer?”

“Bit dramatic, isn’t that? I’m not some activist. And what’s wrong with a little healthy skepticism?”

“It’s not so healthy when people die.” Lisa motions toward the playroom. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get Olivia