‘no thank you’ to changes or adventures.”
She stares at me for a while before moving her head in a slow nod, agreeing. “I like to have the same schedule every day, too. Wake up, eat breakfast and read the news, take care of my cat. Go to work, come home and watch the news, take care of my cat. It’s a good, full life. And every day is predictable.”
I nod. Substitute ‘twins’ for ‘cat’ and ‘homework’ for ‘news,’ and she’s just about described my life. It’s been this way pretty much since the twin s were born six years ago, and it has been a good, full life. The girls were born slightly premature, but healthy. My mom, however, had had a difficult time with the delivery, and her recovery took much longer. I was ten at the time, and I’d stepped in to help take care of the twins. Although my dad had been there at the beginning, he had little interest in changing diapers or warming bottles. He was a college mathematics professor, and he spent his evenings working on his next great thesis. Having twins was not part of his plan, he’d said. He’d underscored that sentiment just few months later, when he filed for divorce.
After my dad left, I rarely saw him. It was up to my mom and me to take care of the twins. But between the divorce, working as a single mom, and weekend- and evening-duties as a real estate agent, raising the twins had been largely left to only me.
“Predictable is good,” I say on a sigh, smoothing my hands over my braid. “Predictable days give you all the time you need to take care of your responsibilities, to prepare for the next day. It’s the adventures that cause the problems.”
I compete in Math League but don’t do bonus rounds. I see boys at school but don’t date. I like the predictable, the steady, the stable activities well-known to me.
“I have to agree,” Hannah says, fixing her bun. “But then, I suppose every girl deserves at least one adventure.”
I look up at that, and Hannah smiles a little . “Well, I think I’ll turn in, too. Long day tomorrow,” she laughs, pushing her glasses back up her nose.
At least one adventure? Is that what Chris is? I watch Hannah Avery retreat toward the western side of the tunnel, then turn to stare toward the east. I can’t see him but I know he’s down there, resting under the bright lights of the tunnel. After a long moment I look up at the ventilation area, at the steel support beams well overhead. Being with him sure feels like an adventure.
After a few more minutes I shrug off my thoughts, tu rning to the girls instead. It must be their bedtime by now. And I have my responsibilities. I call them over and take their hands, walking resolutely toward the western end.
“Emily…when do you think we’ll be able to have dinner again?” Suzanne asks .
I shake my head. Their dinner is one of my responsibilities, and I’m completely failing them. “The rescue isn’t going to be for a while, Suzanne, so we have to wait until then.”
“I’m hungry now,” Michelle says. Not a whine…just a sad statement.
“I know.” I open the back door and they climb inside – Suzanne, smoothing her dress as she lays down, Michelle taking off her cap to rest it on the floor.
I pull their jackets over them, tucking them in as best I can. “You girls are being so good and brave. Just remember, no matter how hungry you get, we’re going to make it through all this. And when we do, I’ll make us a nice, huge dinner.”
They smile at the thought. “Emily, I can’t believe I’m gonna say this…” Michelle pauses for breath, waiting for my reaction. “But I miss vegetables.”
Chapter 7 – A Waiting Game
“I wish I had a flower,” I mumble, looking down at the drawing in my hands. No more math equations or inquisitive sketches of the tunnel. I’ve been reduced to this.
“No, Emily, you have to draw the swirl in the middle!” Suzanne is coaching me in a game of ‘Mash,’ which will
She stares at me for a while before moving her head in a slow nod, agreeing. “I like to have the same schedule every day, too. Wake up, eat breakfast and read the news, take care of my cat. Go to work, come home and watch the news, take care of my cat. It’s a good, full life. And every day is predictable.”
I nod. Substitute ‘twins’ for ‘cat’ and ‘homework’ for ‘news,’ and she’s just about described my life. It’s been this way pretty much since the twin s were born six years ago, and it has been a good, full life. The girls were born slightly premature, but healthy. My mom, however, had had a difficult time with the delivery, and her recovery took much longer. I was ten at the time, and I’d stepped in to help take care of the twins. Although my dad had been there at the beginning, he had little interest in changing diapers or warming bottles. He was a college mathematics professor, and he spent his evenings working on his next great thesis. Having twins was not part of his plan, he’d said. He’d underscored that sentiment just few months later, when he filed for divorce.
After my dad left, I rarely saw him. It was up to my mom and me to take care of the twins. But between the divorce, working as a single mom, and weekend- and evening-duties as a real estate agent, raising the twins had been largely left to only me.
“Predictable is good,” I say on a sigh, smoothing my hands over my braid. “Predictable days give you all the time you need to take care of your responsibilities, to prepare for the next day. It’s the adventures that cause the problems.”
I compete in Math League but don’t do bonus rounds. I see boys at school but don’t date. I like the predictable, the steady, the stable activities well-known to me.
“I have to agree,” Hannah says, fixing her bun. “But then, I suppose every girl deserves at least one adventure.”
I look up at that, and Hannah smiles a little . “Well, I think I’ll turn in, too. Long day tomorrow,” she laughs, pushing her glasses back up her nose.
At least one adventure? Is that what Chris is? I watch Hannah Avery retreat toward the western side of the tunnel, then turn to stare toward the east. I can’t see him but I know he’s down there, resting under the bright lights of the tunnel. After a long moment I look up at the ventilation area, at the steel support beams well overhead. Being with him sure feels like an adventure.
After a few more minutes I shrug off my thoughts, tu rning to the girls instead. It must be their bedtime by now. And I have my responsibilities. I call them over and take their hands, walking resolutely toward the western end.
“Emily…when do you think we’ll be able to have dinner again?” Suzanne asks .
I shake my head. Their dinner is one of my responsibilities, and I’m completely failing them. “The rescue isn’t going to be for a while, Suzanne, so we have to wait until then.”
“I’m hungry now,” Michelle says. Not a whine…just a sad statement.
“I know.” I open the back door and they climb inside – Suzanne, smoothing her dress as she lays down, Michelle taking off her cap to rest it on the floor.
I pull their jackets over them, tucking them in as best I can. “You girls are being so good and brave. Just remember, no matter how hungry you get, we’re going to make it through all this. And when we do, I’ll make us a nice, huge dinner.”
They smile at the thought. “Emily, I can’t believe I’m gonna say this…” Michelle pauses for breath, waiting for my reaction. “But I miss vegetables.”
Chapter 7 – A Waiting Game
“I wish I had a flower,” I mumble, looking down at the drawing in my hands. No more math equations or inquisitive sketches of the tunnel. I’ve been reduced to this.
“No, Emily, you have to draw the swirl in the middle!” Suzanne is coaching me in a game of ‘Mash,’ which will
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