I gave a defeated laugh. “Good idea. But there are three of them.” Then I caught sight of Will, still planted in the armchair in the living room, peacefully minding his own business. “Never mind. We’ll only need the two.”
“Now that I think about it,” Adrian said, scratching his chin as he stared at Will, “I could use him as a prop for the installation. Make sure the battery on that thing is fully charged, and he’s the epitome of Leckov’sError 404: Self Not Found.”
“Pile up your leaves into a kind of throne for him?”
“Leaves? What leaves?” Miles looked from me to Adrian, and I burst out laughing.
“Ask him to walk you through it.”
Our supreme visionary didn’t find it too funny, though.
“Call me when you evolve into a creature who’s able to see the deeper meaning in things.” He gathered his wet sketches and snapped the case shut. “Nuance, layers, subtleties… God forbid your caveman brain has to tango with a metaphor or two.”
It only made me laugh harder, and Miles’ confusion deepened.
“No, seriously, what did I miss?”
“Miss, miss, you’re a diss. Miss, miss, mister miss.” Emma hooked the last of Miles’ question and taunted her sister in a sing-song voice. “You missed me, you missed me, you m—”
The juice box hit Emma square in the face, shutting her up good and solid. Realizing she was out of fuel, Sadie had problem-solved like a pro and launched the whole thing at her. The look on Emma’s face was priceless, and gave rise to the most triumphant giggle in Sadie. I would’ve high-fived her impressive aim if I didn’t think it would make things a whole lot worse. She rolled on the floor with glee, while her sister’s expression cycled through shock, humiliation, and mortified rage with surprising speed. Talk about layers.
Then Emma moved, and Sadie jumped to her feet. Reading the development, Adrian pushed between them in a flash, arms stretched out to hold each back from the other as their little arms swiped and slashed at the empty air. Emma hurled threats, while Sadie goaded her to ‘go ahead and try it.’ It was chaos, but that moment in a bubble made me grieve being an only kid.
“Are there any weekend daycare centers around here?” he asked with a panicked smile. The deeper we got into this trial, the more clear it became that we weren’t equipped for it.
“I’m in fourth grade, not daycare,” Emma said, and finally backed off. The mere mention of shipping them somewhere elsehad taken precedence over squishing Sadie under her shoe like a bug. Her words. That had brought on tears from the youngest, who held a heartbreaking measure of love for all animals.
Sadie sniffled a few times, and added, “There’s no school on weekends. Right, Uncle Ethan?”
I was no match for those blue eyes brimming with held-back tears. Where Emma and Will looked like their mom with dark hair and hazel eyes, Sadie was the carbon copy of Gabe and me. I had more gray in my eyes than either of them, but the sleek nose, dimpled chin, and dirty blonde hair was a mirror. Down to the stubborn set of her mouth, which now stretched into a slightly crooked smile (much like mine), when I said:
“You’re right, kiddo. No school on weekends.”
Adrian and Miles shared a look, and I was in full agreement. There was no way we were getting through the next few weeks with three crazy kids in the mix.
“Any replies on that ad you posted last night?” Miles asked.
I glanced at my phone where I’d discarded it on the table, the screen showing a few stray droplets of juice. No calls or texts from Gabe, but there was a different notification.
“Didn’t hear it in all the excitement,” I muttered, and pulled up the email.
“How many bites?” Adrian came over, his head damn near blocking my whole phone from view.
I snapped it away. “Do you mind?”
“Just call them all and pick the one who’s ready to start immediately.” Miles gently guided Emma and Sadie back in the direction of the living room. “Uncle Adrian said he’s making cookies after you guys clean up the cushions.”
The bribe worked, and the girls hurried through to speed-clean. Adrian didn’t look too impressed with getting dragged into cookie-duty, but didn’t protest. He was more interested in the potential lifeline.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” he egged me on.
I stared at the professional photo headlining the short resume attached. “I don’t know…”
“What don’t you know?” Miles asked. “We’re not exactly in the position to not know. Just call them, and—”
“It’s just her,” I said, showing him my phone. “Just the one. Maren Calloway.”
He whistled low, one eyebrow raised. “She’s hot.”
