“No?” The observation surprised Elsa.
“I’m glad Heissovereign, and Idoneed to know that. But only when I invite Him to sit with me in my pain do I experience His presence, and that is a comfort I cannot describe.” Tatiana’s smile held a serenity Elsa envied.
What a radically different approach to God. Elsa had prayed for healing, to be fixed, for the pain and exhaustion to be taken away. But had she simply invited God to make His presence known to her in the midst of it? She couldn’t recall ever doing so. She wasn’t asking God for comfort. She asked Him for answers. And not getting the one she wanted made her want to push Him away, not bring Him close. She’d only realized it now.
“But you asked if Danielle looks forward to school,” Tatiana went on. “I doubt it. I’m not sure yet what to do this year.”
Elsa steered her thoughts back to the main conversation. “Does she not attend the village school?”
A breeze caught a tendril of Tatiana’s hair, and she hooked it behind her ear. “She tried when she was younger, but it didn’t go well. She became overwhelmed in the new environment, and the teacher declared her unteachable.”
Elsa struggled to put these pieces together. Danielle had already shown herself to have a keen mind and aptitude for learning. But both Tatiana and Linus’s card had also described her as atypical. She wondered how that would translate in a classroom if the child was agitated or afraid.
“Mrs. Van Tessel hired a private tutor to teach her at home,” Tatiana went on. “Mrs. Morgan was a specialist with experience working with children like Danielle. She learned not just answers for tests, but how to engage more with the world around her. Now that Mrs. Van Tessel has passed away, however, I don’t have the resources to hire Mrs. Morgan on my own. I’ll try to teach Danielle myself this fall. We’ll see how it goes. We’re both still reeling from the loss of Mrs. Van Tessel. She was so much more than an employer. The hole left by her absence is large enough to swallow us.”
Elsa put her arm around the older woman. “What a special relationship you and Danielle must have had with her.”
“She was a special lady.” Tatiana sniffed, then brightened as they neared what appeared to be an untamed mass of vegetation. “Here we are. Mrs. Van Tessel called this her secret garden because the master never came here. She loved this place, and so do I, though it’s getting away from me a bit now that the landscape crew had to find work elsewhere. Come, let’s sit and watch the show.”
Elsa sat with her on a weathered grey bench, close to where the grass met a riot of flora. Large patches of plants crowded together with overgrown shrubs. A trumpet vine–covered wooden arbor straddled a gurgling creek.
As if on cue, a male ruby-throated hummingbird arrived.
So did Danielle, who sat next to Elsa without a word.
Elsa greeted the girl, then watched the tiny bird dart with purpose from the red tubular blossoms of the trumpet vine to magenta bee balm, to bright orange azalea, and then to several varieties she didn’t know the names for.
“They always come at this time of morning,” Danielle commented. “They remember exactly which flowers they’ve already drained of nectar, and how long they take to fill up again.”
“And they don’t waste time on empty flowers, do they?” Elsaadded. “With such tiny bodies, they are masters at efficiency. It takes a lot of energy to beat those wings between fifty and seventy times a second.”
“And their hearts beat at least a thousand times per minute when they’re flying.” Danielle spoke without looking at either adult. “They eat between five and eight times an hour. They don’t like to share food, either.”
Elsa smiled. “I think George might be jealous you know so much about hummers.”
“I know lots about hummingbirds,” Danielle said. “But I have never seen a rufous hummingbird or a blue-throated mountain-gem or calliope hummingbird, except in Birdie’s collection. Did you find them?”
Elsa told her she had. They’d been separated into different rooms according to their prominent colors.
“Birdie gave me a book about birds once.” Danielle still didn’t meet Elsa’s gaze.
“Do you mean the aviary?” Elsa figured Tatiana would have asked her about this before but couldn’t resist clarifying. “Is that the book of birds she gave you?”
Danielle started rocking. “No. I don’t want to talk about that. The topic we are talking about now is birds.” She swayed forward and backward, as though trying to soothe herself. The last thing Elsa had intended was to disquiet her.
“I already asked her about the aviary,” Tatiana murmured. “She doesn’t know where it is. I’m glad to have the provenance you dropped off Wednesday evening, though. Thank you for that.”
“Of course.” Elsa swallowed, thinking of what else she might say to interest Danielle. “I saw a Eurasian eagle-owl in Central Park last night.”
Danielle buried her fingers in Barney’s fur. “Bubo bubo. Native to Europe, Asia, and northern Africa.” She’d stopped rocking.
“Yes, but this one is special.” Elsa told them about Zeus andthe small group of people who followed Elsa out of the park, listening to her as their guide.
“How wonderful!” Tatiana said.
“It was.” Elsa smiled at the memory.
A breeze stirred the petunias and rose of Sharon. The tall spires of purple salvia bowed. “Is serving as a bird-watching guide part of your duties at the museum?” Tatiana asked.
