“I’m aware. Mrs. Patterson is having a meltdown. I’ve been working the phones for the last hour—magicians, science presenters, that bubble show guy. Everyone’s either booked or can’t come on this short notice.” A pause. “I’m seriously considering just standing up in front of two hundred kids and doing card tricks. I don’t know any card tricks, but how hard can it be?”
“Please don’t do card tricks.”
“You’re right. I’d panic and throw the cards. It would be a disaster.” The humor drained from her voice. “Kayla, William’s class has been counting down the days. Theo made a paper chain to count them. Apaper chain.”
“I know. Let me think. If anything comes to me, I’ll call you right back.”
“You’re a good friend.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“You listened to me spiral. That counts.”
I hung up and dropped the phone on the table. Two hundred kids and no backup plan. I turned it over while the light went soft around me, shadows stretching long across the yard, but nothing came.
“William.” I walked to the edge of the deck. “Time to come inside.”
His head popped up from the grass. “Five more minutes?”
“You’ve had five more minutes three times already.”
“But Jolly and I are in the middle of something.”
“How about tomorrow, okay? Go get a snack and pick out some books. I’ll be in to help you wash up in a few minutes.”
He pushed himself up with exaggerated slowness,crouched at the gap in the fence to whisper something to Jolly—a private goodbye I couldn’t hear—and dragged his feet across the yard toward the deck.
“Jolly’s going to miss me,” he said as he passed.
“He’ll survive until morning.”
William disappeared inside, the screen door slapping shut behind him.
I turned back toward the yard and stopped.
Ben was standing at the new fence opening, one hand resting on the top of a remaining slat. Jolly sat beside him, leaning into his leg, tail sweeping the ground. Ben must have come out while I was talking to William. I walked across the yard to them.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” He glanced at the opening. “I should explain the renovations.”
“You mean the part where you demolished my fence?”
“Pretty sure neither of us owns it. Which means, technically, I vandalized our landlords’ property.” He tested the stability of the slat under his hand. “Those slats were going to fail anyway. Controlled demolition was better than letting Jolly handle it.”
“His approach being overly enthusiastic to return pinecones.”
“His approach being a seventy-five-pound wrecking ball with no respect for property lines.” He tested the stability of the slat under his hand. “I should’ve asked first. If you want me to put them back?—”
“Don’t you dare.”
His eyes warmed. Not quite a smile but something that changed the whole temperature of his expression. A degree of openness.
“Okay. They stay down.”
“William would never forgive either of us if that gap disappeared.”
“Jolly either. He beelines here every time we get home.” Sure enough, Jolly was sticking his head through the opening, obviously looking for William.
