Eleanor said. “It’s rest time. Let’s go into the living room—”
“I want to stay under the table,” a child yelled.
“Me, too!” cried another child.
Eleanor gave Ari a helpless look.
Ari was stern. “No, this is not the nap room. This is the lunch and arts room.”
Eleanor added, “Once you’ve settled down, I’ll give each of you a surprise that I think you’ll like very much.”
The children scrambled into the living room and dropped to the floor, wriggling and giggling. Eleanor opened the dining room sideboard and brought out a pile of small, colorful quilts. She saw Ari glance questioningly at Cal, who gave Ari a thumbs-up sign.
Eleanor leaned close to Ari and whispered, “I phoned Cal to get his permission.” She spoke in a stern voice when she spoke to the children. “Close your eyes,” Eleanor said. “Don’t open them until I say so.”
She walked among the children, stopping at each one to take a light quilt from the pile and place it gently on a child. The children were restless but for the most part kept their eyes tightly closed, except for the few who peeked through their lashes.
“Now,” Eleanor said. “You may sit up for a moment and look at what you have.”
“What is it?” a child called out.
“It’s a quilt,” Eleanor told the group. “It’s like a very soft, light blanket. For when you don’t need covers to be warm, but you’d like to have something over you.”
“Me,” a little girl shouted. “I do! I have to have a sheet over me to go to sleep.”
Eleanor nodded at the girl. “Look at your quilts. You’ll see that in the very middle is a white square. After you have your rest, we’ll sit at the dining room table and use magic markers to make your initials on the quilt, so you’ll know it’s your very own.”
“Can we take them home?” a child asked.
“Not until the last day of Beach Camp,” Eleanor told them. “These will stay with Cal and you can use them every afternoon for your rest time.”
“Mine is pretty,” Sarita said.
“Mine is, too!” another girl called out.
“Mine is too short,” a boy yelled, lying flat on his back and pulling his quilt so that his toes peeked out.
“Then curl up like a snail,” Eleanor suggested.
All the children immediately curled up. After a few “hush” suggestions from Cal, the children were quiet. Some slept. One little girl held the quilt as she lay on her side, moving the fabric around so she could study each patch.
* * *
—
That Friday night, Eleanor went out to dinner with Ari and Cal. She didn’t want to go, because she was right in the middle of a mystery by Julia Spencer-Fleming, but she knew Cal was trying to thank her for her day with the children and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
Cal took them to Fifty-Six Union. Eleanor had to wear her hearing aids, as she did whenever she went out in a group, but she had calmed her hair down and combed it over her ears. She wore a peach-colored sundress that showed a triangle of wrinkled skin across her chest, but she was so hot during these summer days and nights, vanity didn’t matter.
Ari wore a sundress, too, in turquoise, which suited her perfectly. It had a low-plunging neckline that exposed just a bit of the white skin of her breasts against the dark tan she’d gotten over the summer. Her long dark hair was up in a high ponytail, and she wore dangling turquoise earrings. What a beauty she was, Eleanor thought.
Cal wore black trousers and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Eleanor could imagine him behind a pulpit, blessing people, but she could also imagine him with an eye patch and a parrot on his shoulder. Or in a gypsy caravan, or on one of the long boats on the British canals like the one she just saw on Father Brown.
All through their very excellent meal, Eleanor focused on Cal and his family and Beach Camp. In fact, Eleanor realized when her butterscotch parfait arrived, they hadn’t really included Ari, and when they had, Ari was quiet, responding and laughing only when necessary. Eleanor knew she was troubled. Another week had passed. Another week when Ari’s parents were split up, spending time with other people. Another week for Ari’s baby to grow. Ari’s parents should know, Eleanor thought, with an increasing sense of urgency. They should know now. They should be