“I want this tiger.” Eoin had found a plush tiger nearly as large as he was. “He’s fierce, and his name is Stripes.”
Brody found a book about animal conservation. “It’s educational,” he said hopefully.
Even Alec had stopped pretending disinterest. He held a small snow globe with a giraffe inside, turning it over so the glitter swirled.
I looked at my five older children with their hopeful faces, at wee Maggie gnawing on her fist, and decided.
“Right then. You may each choose what you like.” I held up a hand before they all erupt. “But—and this is not negotiable—you’ll be responsible for taking care of them. Understood?”
They nodded eagerly, already moving toward the register.
The walk back to the car was loud. The twins argued about elephants. Eoin’s tiger collided with strangers. Brody read while walking, nearly tripping over a trash can.
But Alec stayed beside me, carrying his snow globe, and I could have sworn I saw the ghost of a smile on his face.
By the time we arrived home, it was nearly five o’clock—an hour past “quiet time.” Maggie was asleep. Eoin dragged his tiger to the door.
I got them all inside and started them on pizza—because Mrs. Kowalski wasn’t here to lecture on nutrition—when the telephone rang.
“Patrick McCrae.”
“Hi.” Theresa’s voice was soft, uncertain. “It’s Theresa. I said I’d call.”
My chest warmed instantly. “I’m glad you did.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should. If maybe last night was something we both got caught up in that wasn’t... real.”
“Did it feel unreal to you?”
“No.” Quiet but certain. “It felt more real than anything has in months.”
“For me as well.”
I could hear children’s voices in the background on her end—loud, overlapping, glorious chaos.
“Rome saw us,” she said, her voice tight. “The kiss. He was at his window with his binoculars.”
“Och, no…” My stomach dropped. “How did he react?”
“About as well as you’d expect. He was upset. Confused. I had to promise you weren’t replacing Marco.”
From the kitchen, I heard the twins argue about pizza toppings. Eoin’s voice rose above theirs.
“Hold on,” I said into the phone. I put my hand over the receiver and called out: “Oi! Inside voices, if you please. And Carson, share the pepperoni with your brother or I’ll eat it all myself.”
I returned to the phone. “Apologies. It’s been something of a day.”
“That sounded... orderly.” There was surprise in her voice.
“Trust me, it wasn’t. We’ve just returned from the zoo. No schedule, no plan, just being spontaneous for once.” I looked around at the pizza boxes and zoo souvenirs scattered across the coffee table. “Mrs. Kowalski would have an apoplexy if she could see this place right now.”
Theresa laughed—a real full laugh—and the sound did something warm in my chest.
“That sounds wonderful,” she said.
“It was.” I shifted the phone to my other ear. “Different from how things usually run around here. Usually everything’s very... controlled. Scheduled within an inch of its life.”
“That must be nice. My house is never controlled.” There was a crash in her background. “Case in point.”
