unit out of the trunk and placed it in the wagon. The two box fans were light, so she stacked them on top.
“Okay, let’s roll these up to the house.” She took the handle and let the kids push from behind. Jesse’s cheeks were puffed out and red. “Breathe, Jesse. You don’t have to push too hard. You might knock me over.” That was unlikely, but he sure did put his all into everything he did.
She propped the air conditioner in the children’s bedroom window and plugged it in. To cover the gaps on each side of the small unit, she cut cardboard strips, covered them in a heavy trash bag to waterproof them, and then duct-taped them into place. For good measure, she pounded a single nail above the sash to keep the window from sliding out of position. She’d sleep better knowing there was no chance of that thing falling on the kids.
“Ready to try this thing out?” Amanda held her hand at the power button.
“Yes.” Jesse walked over and put his finger on top of Amanda’s. “I’ll help.”
“Here we go,” Amanda said. The old window unit chugged, sputtered, and then revved up like a race car before it started blowing icy-cold air into the room.
Jesse loved the noise. He hopped and waved his hands in the stream of air.
“Mom, this is so cold!” Hailey closed her eyes and stood like a statue in front of the unit. “I think it could blow snowflakes!”
“It’s heavenly.” Amanda picked at her shirt, letting the cool air sop some of the dampness from her. “This will feel so good.”
“It’s kind of loud,” Hailey said.
“Maybe now you won’t hear Jesse when he wakes up early.”
Hailey grinned. “I will like that.”
“I thought you would. Come on.” They all left the room, and then she closed the door behind them. “Now for the fun part. You two open the fans for me while I get the windows ready.”
The kids wrestled with the boxes in the kitchen while she worked to pry open the windowsill in the living room. It had been painted shut, but after wiggling it, she finally got it free. Unfortunately, the sash wouldn’t hold. It kept sliding back down. She found a paint stick in the hall closet to hold it up until she could get the fan in place.
Hailey and Jesse thrummed on the empty boxes, singing a mishmash of nursery rhymes and country songs. She let them entertain themselves while she slid the fan into the window frame, just about guillotining herself in the process.
Once the fan was snugly in place, Amanda went about setting up the other one across the way, near the kitchen table. She positioned it to blow the hot air outside, creating a steady flow through the house. It was a trick Daddy had used when it got hot.
Refreshing air moved through the house, bringing instant relief. She went back into the living room and started singing into the spinning blades. “Aaaaaa-aaa-aaa-aaa-aaa-aaah.”
She couldn’t resist testing her old robot voice, so she bent toward the fan and her words reverberated as if they were in a blender. “Thaaa-aaa-aaank goo-ooo-oodness this fee-eels soo-ooo gooo-oood.”
Hailey and Jesse abandoned the boxes and rushed to her. “What are you doing?”
“Singin’ in the fan.” Holding a fake microphone, she leaned in closer and continued. “Just singin’ in the fan. What a glorious morning. I’m singin’ in the fan.”
Jesse retrieved his cardboard box from the kitchen and started drumming to the song, sort of.
Hailey joined Amanda and sang along.
In a fit of giggles, Amanda announced, “I expect a concert after dinner tonight.”
“Every night!” Hailey played an air guitar and belted out the words to “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” in the fan.
That night Amanda moved one of the fans to her bedroom. She slept better than she had in weeks and even rolled out of bed an hour before Hailey and Jesse got up. By the time they showed their faces, she was already cooking breakfast.
The kids came running into the kitchen together. A first. “Good morning!”
“Great to see my two favorite children so happy.”
Hailey pulled her hands to her hips. “We’re your only children, Mom.”
“Thank goodness.” She kissed them both. “You’re just in time. Jesse, you can separate the tortillas. Hailey, how about you tear up some spinach leaves.”
Jesse’s fingers worked the tortillas until they were about the furthest thing from round. She might have to stack two together to keep the eggs from falling through them, but it