The Daycare

The notice was in the twins' backpacks on Friday afternoon, folded in four, between a painting of a purple dog and a sock that belonged to neither of them.

Dear Families, it said. Due to staffing changes, starting Monday, August 9, Little Maples Child Care will close at 5:00 p.m. instead of 6:00 p.m. We apologize for any inconvenience. Thank you for your understanding. The Management.

Yuna read it in the car, in the parking lot of the daycare, with the twins kicking the backs of the seats and singing a song about a bus. Then she read it again. Then she put her forehead on the steering wheel.

She worked at the head office of a grocery chain, in accounts. Her day finished at five thirty. With traffic, she arrived at the daycare at five fifty. Her husband worked shifts at a packaging plant, and his shift on weekdays ended at seven. There was no grandmother, no aunt, no neighbour. There was just Yuna and the bus song.

"Mama sad?" said Jin, the older twin, by four minutes.

"Mama is thinking," said Yuna.

"Mama sad," Min explained to his brother.