Nestlings

by Nat Cassidy

With the couple gone, Vera the broker-not-broker exhaled. They would work. Disappointing that they hadn’t brought the baby with them—it would’ve been nice to see her in person—but the vetting had been thorough, and the husband had been more than happy to show photos and videos. A beautiful child. The mother’s disability was an asset, too. In a word, they were perfect. Envy rocketed through her, as it often did when she met lucky new tenants of the Deptford. Then she remembered what she was holding on to. She looked down, wondering if the couple had thought it odd she hadn’t shaken their hands as they left. No, probably not. They had their own issues to discuss. The roach continued to squirm against her palms. Vera carefully opened her hands, then plucked the roach up by its back. Its legs kicked helplessly. She’d caught it scurrying across the kitchen counter while the couple talked in the second bedroom. It was quick, but not quick enough. “You don’t belong here,” she reprimanded with a grin, an actual, genuine grin. Roaches were common enough in any building—and this particular apartment had sat empty for a few months now—but she couldn’t help feeling a sense of … holy confirmation finding one at this exact moment. This building teemed with life, after all. Its new tenants were about to discover just what that could mean. Here came that envy again. They were so lucky. Vera wished she could experience what the young couple was about to experience. What their baby would ge...