“Oh, well, never mind.” He once again adjusted his glasses. “Maybe we can find him something.”
“Not to worry,” Olivia answered. “We don’t live too far from here. He can just shower and change when he gets home.”
“Well, if you’re sure.”
“I am.” She took his arm. “Why don’t we go and get those forms signed.”
“May I keep the book?” Theo asked, indicating the sketch book in front of him.
“Of course.” The doctor nodded, glancing down at Theo’s work. “You’re very talented.”
“Thank you,” he mumbled, his cheeks reddening as he closed the book and stood.
In no time at all they were both stepping out of the main entrance. The late afternoon sun dipped low on the horizon, and a cold early-evening breeze tugged at Olivia’s jacket. Pulling it closer, she turned and regarded Theo.
“I should have brought you a coat.” She frowned.
“It’s not that cold.”
“I suppose you’re used to hard winters,” she mused. “No central heating.”
“What is central heating?”
“Never mind.” She shook her head and descended the few steps onto the main concourse, heading past the gardens at a clipped pace. Theo followed alongside her, still in his pajamas and slippers, his art book tucked under one arm and his thin blue robe flapping in the breeze.
“Where are we going?” he asked, his eyes widening as he took in his surroundings.
“To a friend’s.” She glanced back at him. “You’ll be safe there, and we’ll have time to figure this all out.”
Theo came to an abrupt stop, watching a bus and several cars pass them by.
“This must be really strange for you,” Olivia murmured at his fascinated gaze.
“What are they called?” he whispered.
“Cars,” she replied.
“Cars,” he repeated, trying out the word. “How do they move with no horses to pull them?”
“Come on.” She smiled. “It’s too cold out here for a lesson on the internal combustion engine.”
“The what?” He blinked.
“Exactly.” His dark eyes locked on her lips as she laughed. She tugged his arm, and they both started walking again.
“You’re going to be busy for a while,” Olivia told him with a hint of seriousness. “You have over three hundred years’ worth of history to catch up on, but lucky for you, I’m an historian, so I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.”
“An historian?”
“Someone who makes a living from studying the past,” she explained.
“It’s a profession?” he asked, puzzlement drawing his brows down.
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand.” He scowled. “Do you not have a father or a brother to care for you?”
“Oh boy,” she sighed. “I don’t have any brothers, or sisters for that matter, and as for my father, that’s one thing I’m not prepared to discuss. I specialize in the history of the New England colonies, particularly during the seventeenth century, so I am aware of the role women played in your society. But you have to understand there have been three centuries of progression. Women don’t need men to support them. In my society, women can inherit, vote, own property. We have the right to the same education, and we hold positions of authority in many professions. Most of us work for a living and support ourselves.”
