“So you won’t even have an auto there. You’ll be stranded with no way of communicating with the outside world.”
“Exciting, right?” She couldn’t help but laugh at the bewildered expression on his face.
“And you’re determined to do this?”
“All joking aside, yes, I am. Mr. Chapman is putting the pressure on to finish up out there, and I’m almost done. Besides, Ivy and I can look for the aviary while we’re there, too.”
Luke raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m going with you. Camping. I’ll bring Barney.”
Elsa returned his determined gaze. “If you thought my plan was inappropriate before, you’ve just made it ten times more so.”
“We won’t be sleeping in the same room. In that house, we might not even be in the same county. But in all seriousness, I don’t want you two there alone. You and Ivy can still have your roommate bonding time. I won’t interfere with that. But I want to be there in case you need a hand with something or in case anyone decides to come harass you again. Besides, I have more work to do there, too, and, frankly, not enough time to do it, especially since I want to use the weekends to reconstruct the Petrovic cottage. I’ll bring Tom, if he’s game. We’ll keep to ourselves unless you need us.”
Elsa checked her watch. “I’m so sorry, but I have a meeting with my boss. Walk with me that direction?” She led him out of her office.
“I’ll drive. We’ll pick you up outside the Beresford. All right?” He nudged her with his elbow.
Elsa looped her hand through it. “If you’re sure.” The more she thought about it, the better his plan sounded.
“I am. Lean on me.”
She looked up at Luke, softening at his earnest expression. “Is that a metaphor?”
One eyebrow lifted. “I suppose it is. It’s also literal. When we walk together, I can tell you’re trying not to press down on me, Elsa. But it’s no burden to support you. I’m here because I want you to lean on me. Literally, metaphorically, consistently, perpetually. Also, voluntarily.”
Releasing a sigh, she allowed herself to transfer more of her weight to him. “I volunteer.”
Elsa was still smiling when she knocked on the doorway to Mr. Chapman’s office.
“Miss Reisner.” He beckoned her inside. “Sit. Tell me how your work is coming along. Anything new to report?”
She eased into the chair and gave brief reports on the various projects he had her working on, from dissection assistance to skinning and stuffing birds to research assistance to processing the new inventory from Elmhurst. “I have an idea for something new,” she added after all of that, surprising even herself.
“Because you don’t have enough to do already?” he teased but bade her to continue.
She shared with him her experience last week as an informal birding guide in Central Park.
“I fail to see how this is relevant to the museum.”
“Mr. Griscom wrote that article about bird-watching in Central Park, and it has clearly generated interest. Offering guided walks through the park is a service the museum could provide. I believe it could earn even more appreciation and drive foot traffic across the street to our museum so they could keep learning. Our location right by the park makes it a perfect setup.”
“And am I to assume that you would be willing to be this bird guide yourself?”
Elsa’s heart leapt at the opening. “Why, yes! I’d love to! If—”
“You.” He interrupted her with a pointed look at where her skirt sloped over her leg brace.
Her mouth went dry. He didn’t believe she could do it.
“Good heavens.” Mr. Chapman closed the book on his desk and pushed it to the side. “You’ve become quite fanciful lately. If this is due to the goings-on at Elmhurst, the sooner you finish, the better.”
The “goings-on at Elmhurst,” as he put it, had breathed new life into a passion that had gone stagnant. At least, the episodes that involved people. The note-taking and record-making, whether here or there, fed her almost-compulsive drive for perfection. Bird-watching—and bird-teaching—shifted her focus onto that which couldn’t and shouldn’t be contained or controlled. Living birds inspired and delighted her again, as they had when she was a bedridden child.
“As I’ve told you before, I’ll be finishing this week. And then I’ll be back here full-time once again.” Months and years stretched out ahead of Elsa. The vision played across her mind like a moving picture. She saw herself flaying skin away from flesh, cutting bones and wings, and cleaning blood off feathers with a fingernail file. She saw herself arranging and rearranging inventory and hunched over notebooks.
It didn’t bring her half the joy she experienced watching birds with Tatiana and Danielle at Elmhurst or with Luke in Central Park. Finding Zeus had been more thrilling than stumbling upon the Spix’s macaw in Birdie’s dressing room. And leading the small band of people on an impromptu bird walk through the park had brought her more exhilaration than she’d known in any other aspect of her work.
“Your finishing at Elmhurst is what concerns me most.” Leaning forward, he tented his hands over the open textbook splayed on his desk. “I’m not paying you to hunt down a manuscript that doesn’t belong to you.”
