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much easier. And though I wouldn’t have thought a woman who could do so little for herself would need humanizing, I realized I had been reading her relative silence as aloofness. I turned slightly away from Evan now, focusing my attention on her.
     
    AFTER THAT THE DAY continued a lot like any other first day on the job: them showing me things and me nodding and realizing I should have brought something to write on. But I figured it would come back to me as I needed it.
    I’d been wondering how Kate spent her days. It turned out the pile of books I’d seen by the table was hers, and on her computer there was a list of folders on ALS research and fund-raising. Evan had his own computer in another room, and this one was set up for Kate, with a small round silver sensor we could stick to her forehead. She moved her head and the sensor somehow clicked what she wanted on the screen the same way a mouse would.
    “Do you do a lot of fund-raising?” I asked. She nodded and left it at that. I didn’t need to ask how she’d become interested and I guessed I would be making a lot of phone calls on her behalf. I hated that sort of thing.
    “A lot of times we have people over, and if Evan can’t get home I might ask you to help me get ready,” she said, pausing to let Evan repeat. “Do you have any interest in cooking? There’s caterers and Evan too, if you don’t, of course.”
    Why not? If someone was teaching me it might be fun. Maybe someday I’d even give a dinner party, for which I’d be flawlessly made-up. This job was going to be great for me. “I’ll definitely give it a shot if we start very slowly,” I said. There was a pause. “Like, salad-slow,” I added. She was probably the sort who thought fresh pasta was simple too.
    They were showing me around the office, which was largely devoted to filing cabinets filled with medical insurance and records, when Kate said, “I’d like to use the bathroom.”
    “Okay,” Evan said. He nodded at me to let me know I should follow, and the three of us made our way in a single-file line.
    Back in the bathroom I perched voyeuristically on the edge of the counter, as Kate stopped the wheelchair next to the toilet. Evan took her by the arms and drew her to her feet. “If you work quickly,” he said, “she can stand. Not for very long, but long enough.” Her head fell forward but she was upright, her arms still draped over Evan’s shoulders, her knees locked and legs trembling slightly. My hand reached out involuntarily toward her.
    Evan was fast—he lifted her skirt to her waist and pulled her pink bikinis to her knees in practically one motion, then gripped her beneath her arms and lowered her slowly to the toilet seat. I looked allover the place as he did this, not sure where it was best to be staring: Her face, as though I were waiting for her to show embarrassment? Her pelvis, where all of Evan’s motion was, motions that I guessed I should be learning? I had a glimpse of a light brown triangle of pubic hair, the little mouth of the valve above a sharp hip bone. I’d seen a few photos around the house of her when she was healthier, and she’d been average-thin before, but now her pelvis was an empty bowl, her thighs almost straight lines from hip to knee.
    The three of us, Evan and me standing with our hands in our pockets, Kate sitting, had a moment of awkward silence. I could hear the sound of urine trickling beneath her.
    “You have to be ready to grab her if she can’t stand,” Evan said, breaking the stillness. I nodded. “She’ll tell you, and if that’s the case, then forget about what you’re doing, her pants or whatever, and just grab her and help her sit and then you can go from there.”
    “Okay,” I said. The bathroom floor was cold black-and-white tile.
    “Be very careful never to drop her,” Evan said.
    “I won’t.” I thought I would be okay. You pulled her up, held her, set her down. It was doable.
    Kate nodded at Evan as the