trouble.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Maddie said, eyeing him. “We’ve both had kids from the same family who have parents that are involved”—she looked at Micah and Beryl—“but then one child can be as good as gold and the other can be Mr. Mischief. It depends on their personalities.”
Beryl laughed. “That’s like my sisters and me. We came from the same home, but we’re as different as can be . . . and Isak was definitely Miss Mischief!”
Asa laughed. “That’s true, your sister did have a mischievous streak,” he said, remembering Beryl’s older sister from his tenth-grade English class and the cross-country team he coached. “But I still think home life plays a big part . . . in most cases,” he added, eyeing his wife, waiting for her to agree.
“Most,” she conceded, “but not all.”
Beryl turned to Maddie. “Micah said you used to work with special needs kids.”
“I did. My older brother Tim had Down Syndrome and he inspired me.”
Beryl nodded. “Micah told me about Tim,” she said softly. “Did he tell you that Henry Finch works in the tea shop now?”
“He did. How’s he doing?”
“Really well. He’s very conscientious.”
“I’ve known Henry since he was a little boy. He was in my Excel preschool class—and this was before autism was as widely understood. His mom, Callie, is the nicest person.”
“She is. She picks him up every day, and Honey, his golden retriever, is always waiting for him. Callie told me Honey has made a huge difference in Henry’s life.”
Maddie nodded. “Well, when Henry was little, he didn’t talk at all, but then a yellow Lab named Springer came into his life, and they developed a very special bond. It helped him open up. Animals have an amazing effect on kids with autism. There’s even a place in New York—Guiding Eyes for the Blind—that specializes in guide dogs, but some of the dogs that aren’t cut out to be guide dogs are now trained to work with kids who have autism. The program is called Heeling Autism. They’ve had some remarkable results.”
Beryl nodded.
“Back to the wedding,” Maddie said with a smile. “Any idea how many people?”
“Well, I wish we could invite everyone,” Micah replied, “but even if we only invite family, the number would hit sixty-five, and I don’t think Noah’s septic tank could handle that.”
“They make fancy porta-potties now,” Asa offered with a grin. “You could get a couple of those.”
“That’s a thought,” Micah said with a laugh. “But I also don’t want to put a strain on their marriage. We’ll have to get a sense of things when we see them.”
“What else are you going to have at the clambake?” Maddie asked.
Micah sopped up the last of his sauce with a piece of bread. “The traditional fare—steamers, mussels, lobster tails, red potatoes, corn on the cob . . . and filet mignon for anyone who’s not fond of seafood.”
“And a cake?”
“Nope.” Micah grinned. “Laney’s going to make her grandmother’s peach cobbler.”
“Mmm . . . that sounds good,” Maddie said with a smile.
Micah nodded. “Noah is trying to convince Laney to go to Georgia to get the peaches so he can put in a new kitchen while she’s gone.”
“Does she know that?”
Micah laughed. “What do you think?”
Maddie shook her head. “Well, you guys let us know if you need help with anything. Dad’s happy to make the chowder, but we can also help take care of some of the expenses. Maybe the bar and the dance floor? By the way, if you’re going to have a dance floor, you must be planning on music. Are you getting a band?”
“Nope. We’re going to see if Gabe would DJ. He seems to know a lot about music.”
“Well, it sounds like it’s all coming together,” Maddie said as she stood to clear. “Oh!” She looked at Beryl. “Did you get a dress?”
“Not yet,” Beryl said. “As soon as Laney’s done with school, my sisters and I are going to meet
“That’s not entirely true,” Maddie said, eyeing him. “We’ve both had kids from the same family who have parents that are involved”—she looked at Micah and Beryl—“but then one child can be as good as gold and the other can be Mr. Mischief. It depends on their personalities.”
Beryl laughed. “That’s like my sisters and me. We came from the same home, but we’re as different as can be . . . and Isak was definitely Miss Mischief!”
Asa laughed. “That’s true, your sister did have a mischievous streak,” he said, remembering Beryl’s older sister from his tenth-grade English class and the cross-country team he coached. “But I still think home life plays a big part . . . in most cases,” he added, eyeing his wife, waiting for her to agree.
“Most,” she conceded, “but not all.”
Beryl turned to Maddie. “Micah said you used to work with special needs kids.”
“I did. My older brother Tim had Down Syndrome and he inspired me.”
Beryl nodded. “Micah told me about Tim,” she said softly. “Did he tell you that Henry Finch works in the tea shop now?”
“He did. How’s he doing?”
“Really well. He’s very conscientious.”
“I’ve known Henry since he was a little boy. He was in my Excel preschool class—and this was before autism was as widely understood. His mom, Callie, is the nicest person.”
“She is. She picks him up every day, and Honey, his golden retriever, is always waiting for him. Callie told me Honey has made a huge difference in Henry’s life.”
Maddie nodded. “Well, when Henry was little, he didn’t talk at all, but then a yellow Lab named Springer came into his life, and they developed a very special bond. It helped him open up. Animals have an amazing effect on kids with autism. There’s even a place in New York—Guiding Eyes for the Blind—that specializes in guide dogs, but some of the dogs that aren’t cut out to be guide dogs are now trained to work with kids who have autism. The program is called Heeling Autism. They’ve had some remarkable results.”
Beryl nodded.
“Back to the wedding,” Maddie said with a smile. “Any idea how many people?”
“Well, I wish we could invite everyone,” Micah replied, “but even if we only invite family, the number would hit sixty-five, and I don’t think Noah’s septic tank could handle that.”
“They make fancy porta-potties now,” Asa offered with a grin. “You could get a couple of those.”
“That’s a thought,” Micah said with a laugh. “But I also don’t want to put a strain on their marriage. We’ll have to get a sense of things when we see them.”
“What else are you going to have at the clambake?” Maddie asked.
Micah sopped up the last of his sauce with a piece of bread. “The traditional fare—steamers, mussels, lobster tails, red potatoes, corn on the cob . . . and filet mignon for anyone who’s not fond of seafood.”
“And a cake?”
“Nope.” Micah grinned. “Laney’s going to make her grandmother’s peach cobbler.”
“Mmm . . . that sounds good,” Maddie said with a smile.
Micah nodded. “Noah is trying to convince Laney to go to Georgia to get the peaches so he can put in a new kitchen while she’s gone.”
“Does she know that?”
Micah laughed. “What do you think?”
Maddie shook her head. “Well, you guys let us know if you need help with anything. Dad’s happy to make the chowder, but we can also help take care of some of the expenses. Maybe the bar and the dance floor? By the way, if you’re going to have a dance floor, you must be planning on music. Are you getting a band?”
“Nope. We’re going to see if Gabe would DJ. He seems to know a lot about music.”
“Well, it sounds like it’s all coming together,” Maddie said as she stood to clear. “Oh!” She looked at Beryl. “Did you get a dress?”
“Not yet,” Beryl said. “As soon as Laney’s done with school, my sisters and I are going to meet
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