He did not turn on the bright overhead light.
He switched on a small lamp.
“Hey,” he said softly, crouching. “New houses are confusing at night.”
Owen wiped his face. “I forgot.”
“That’s okay. I forget where I put my keys every day.”
Lily sniffed. “Keys don’t get scared.”
“You haven’t met my keys.”
She stared at him.
Then she gave the tiniest smile.
Nathan walked them to the bathroom, then to the kitchen for water, then back to bed. He sat on the floor between their two small beds until they slept again.
In the morning, he called me.
“They stayed,” he said, voice rough with wonder.
I stood in my kitchen, looking at the dandelions long since wilted but still in their glass.
“They did.”
“I was afraid I’d do it wrong.”
“You will.”
“Helpful.”
“You’ll do it wrong and repair it. That seems to be the job.”
Nathan was quiet.
Then he said, “They asked if you can come for breakfast next time.”
My chest tightened.
“With blueberries on top?”
“Obviously.”
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