“Yeah, of course.”
He does one more scan of his girls before he turns slowly, almost like it pains him to do so, and walks back down the hall.
***
“How old are you, Ms. Millie?” Elijah asks, tugging on my hand while we walk toward the front of the museum.
“Twenty-nine.”
His head droops. “My mom said I can’t have a girlfriend if she’s more than one year older than me until I’m an adult.”
A laugh snorts out of me. “Your mom sounds like a smart woman. How old are all of you?” I ask the herd of children around me.
Avery is holding my other hand, with Eloise beside her, while Oliver and Noah walk in front of us.
We’ve had a few hiccups this morning, including Oliver pulling Adrian’s hair because of a dispute over the best pizza topping. We also had a close call with a butterfly after Noah tried to whack it off his shirt in the vivarium.
Despite all that, it’s been a success. The kids loved seeing the monarch butterflies emerge from their chrysalises, and our binoculars turned out perfect.
“Eight,” Oliver shouts at the same time Noah says, “Seven.”
“We’re both five because we’re fraternal twins,” Eloise informs us, pronouncing “fraternal” perfectly, like she’s done it a thousand times. “Mama said having twins in your belly makes it reeeeeeally big because there are two babies in there.” Eloise holds her hands out in front of her. “Like as big as that table!” She points to the front desk where Eleanor is sitting and waving at us.
“Is it fun having a twin?” I ask the girls. “I always wanted to be one. I thought sharing secrets would be amazing.”
Surprisingly, Avery answers first. “Having a twin is the best. I never have to be alone.” She gives me a small smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
Eloise puts her arms around Avery’s shoulders and says, “Itisthe best thing.”
The kids come to a standstill under theQuetzalcoatlusfossil and lean their heads back to stare at it. A chorus of questions starts, and luckily, Micah steps in to answer them the best he can.
As I watch Avery smile timidly and Eloise grill Micah with questions, my mind wanders to Finn.
Is he the one who put Avery’s hair in that sleek ponytail and helped them pick out their clothes this morning? Eloise’s shirt has a little astronaut figure being held up by planet-shaped balloons, while Avery’s has a peace sign made of flowers.
I’ve been telling myself Finn is a scowling, rude grump, but something about the coffee delivery and the emails and the way he spoke to the girls this morning has me admitting to myself that I might not have the whole picture.
Micah reaches the end of his dinosaur knowledge, so we shuffle the kids outside the main doors of the museum and line them up on the sidewalk.
“Okay, everybody,” I call, cupping my hands around my mouth. “If you sit down in your spot, Mr. Micah and I will bring each of you a plant, and then we can help you find a good place in the soil to put it.”
Paisley shouts, “Do you have gloves for me? My mom said not to get dirty.” She smooths the tulle of her purple dress.
“Your mom sent you to the wrong camp, then,” I mumble to Micah before calling louder to the kids. “We don’t have gloves, but we can wash our hands after. Trust me, it’s going to feel so good to dig your hands in there and get some dirt on them. That’s my favorite part.”
Paisley’s curled lip says she doesn’t believe me.
Micah and I make our way around to all the kids, passing out yarrow, bee balm, and penstemon seedlings. Aside from Paisley, everyone seems excited to get dirty. Even Avery is on her knees in the flower bed.
I crouch between Eloise and Avery to get them started. “Where should we plant your seedlings?”
Chapter 7
Finn
The sound of laughter from the front of the museum draws me toward my office window, and I peer through the glass to find the camp kids crawling around in the flower beds. Eloise is smiling from ear to ear while she digs a hole in the soil. Even Avery is grinning as her hands move through the dirt.
Millie’s on her knees between them, placing a small potted seedling in Avery’s hands, and they work together to free the sprout. I glance at Eloise, and she must have her hole the way she wants it because she sits back on her heels and brushes her hair off her face. When she pulls her hands away, she has smears of dirt along her cheeks and forehead.
