I had errands and holiday shopping to do downtown so I listened to a voicemail message while popping in and out of Max's school counselor apt. I walked by the stair well and saw who was singing in the halls: the school choir standing in bundles and singing Handel's Messiah, the acoustics of the halls, along with students scattered on their way to class. I stopped to get a closer look just as the last part of her message played. “Call me when you can,” she said. Her voice was high- pitched and reedy. Doctor K's nurse. “Some abnormal results.” It was the last thing I expected her to say.
