Did you pick either of them up and look inside?
Julien
Obviously. I had to see what they were about.
Martha
I think you just answered your own question. Also,The Long Journey of Mister Poopis actually a pretty good book on the digestive system.
1:25pm
Julien
I didn’t realize John Grisham wrote kids’ books.
Martha
Found the Theodore Boone series, I see.
Julien
I wonder if Squire should approach an already established bestselling adult author about writing a series of books for children.
1:37pm
Julien
Okay, I understand now why you told me to revisit a favorite childhood book. I found a copy ofThe Story of Ferdinandon the shelf and just reread it. I had forgotten how much I loved this story as a boy. Talk about nostalgia. I bet parents go looking for the stories that impacted their own childhood to read to their kids and share that experience. Have you found that to be true?
Martha
Most definitely
1:52pm
Julien sends a picture of a plushie of Curious George holding a copy ofThe Secret Garden.
I find myself looking at the picture a lot longer than necessary, smiling to myself the whole time.
8
By the time Friday rolls around, it seems that Julien and I have had at least a dozen conversations with each other. At first it was emails here and there asking specific questions. Then it was a text thread of reactions from the bookstore. That led to more texts and emails while he was in the office, some requesting my professional opinion on one matter or another, but others were just funny anecdotes about his coworkers. I about died laughing when he sent me a screenshot of a message from his assistant apologizing for the inconvenience of coming in late due to a dental appointment but autocorrect had changed it toI’m sorry for the incontinence. The worry-filled text about his father’s nosebleed that lasted longer than normal wasn’t so funny.
I’m really not sure what to call this development between Julien and me. We have a mutual need of the other for our careers, but the way I instantly want to text him when something happens lately—like when I sent him a picture of the most adorable infant gumming on a Squire board book, or how it was him I wanted to confide in with how hard it was saying good-bye to my last LEGO Builders group—makes it seem like we’re more than just colleagues. It makes it seem like we’re genuine friends. Like we’ve been friends all our lives, even.
Honestly, it’s a bit strange. Nice. But strange.
But I don’t have the time to dwell on any of that right now because a billow of dust plumes out behind an unfamiliar car coming up the Andersons’ unpaved driveway. I wave when the car gets closer and motion for the driver to park beside my old Ford Focus. A young woman steps out of the driver’s side a few moments later, tall and willowy and sharing the same thick brown hair as her brother.
“You must be Trinity,” I say as I hold out my hand.
She gives a firm shake along with a bright smile. “That’s me.” She sweeps her gaze around the property, taking in the white fencing around the two pastures and the Tennessee Walkers grazing contentedly on short shoots of grass. “It’s really nice out here.”
“Thanks. I think so too. C’mon and let me show you around. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson will be down in a little bit to meet you, but before that, let me run you through all the chores you’ll be responsible for while I’m gone.”
“Sounds good.”
I lead her through the open barn doors into the stable. The stalls are empty as all the horses are currently turned out to pasture. I open the first door and flick on the light switch. “This is the feed room. Everything is clearly marked, and I have all the instructions printed out here.” I pull down a clipboard hanging from a nail on the wall. “They get fed in the morning and the evening. In fact, it’s time to get their feed ready. Want to help me so you know what to do?”
