of the pine trees, the sun a sharp and glowing sphere in the upper right corner.
“They’re sort of hard to describe,” she said. “Do you want to see them?”
“Not right now. You can file them and I’ll look later.”
She could tell he was making an effort to be polite, but she could also tell he definitely was never going to look. As she tried to decide whether to push him on it, he held out his hand to Jemima for the sea urchin.
“Wow,” he said, inspecting it. “This is really amazing. Good find, kiddo.”
“It was whole when I found it,” Jemima explained. “It got broke in my pocket.”
“I think it’s prettier how it is,” Theo said solemnly.
Kate asked, “Why’d you put it in your pocket? You didn’t have your bucket?”
“We aren’t s’posed to put them in our buckets,” Oscar said. He already had yogurt smeared all around his mouth.
“Oscar!” Jemima jumped up, red-faced.
Theo frowned at Oscar. “What do you mean? They’re always in your buckets when you bring them home.”
Oscar looked to Jemima for help. “I…”
Jemima ran over to him and punched him in the shoulder. “Shut up!”
Theo shot to his feet. “Hey! There is no hitting in this house. And don’t tell your brother to shut up.”
“You suck,” Jemima said to Oscar, who began to cry. “You ruin everything.”
“Jemima, go to your room,” Theo said.
“Because you’re a dweeb,” she continued, staring Oscar down.
“Now, Jemima. You’re grounded.”
“You love him more,” she sobbed, then ran out of the room.
Theo crouched down next to Oscar.
“You okay?”
Oscar nodded. Tears streamed down his face and mixed with the yogurt. He held his arms out, and Theo picked him up. He carried Oscar around the kitchen, bouncing him as Oscar wiped his face noisily across his father’s shirt. Within a few circuits, the tears had disappeared entirely, and the boy wiggled to be put down.
“Finish your snack,” Theo said quietly. Oscar sniffled agreement and settled back in his chair, while Theo crossed to the stove.
The whole incident had lasted less than two minutes. A little stunned, Kate leaned down to pick up the sea urchin, which in the commotion had fallen off the table and broken into several large fragments. She carried the pieces over to the kitchen counter and looked at Theo, who was fiddling with one of the burner grates, as if he needed to occupy his hands.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He glanced over at her. “Sorry…? For what?”
“I feel like my question set them off.”
“What?” He let go of the grate. “No. It wasn’t your fault. This happens a lot. I mean, not the hitting. Jemima’s been having a hard time ever since…” He seemed to catch himself. He ran his hand over his face. “She misses her mom. Not that there’s anything I can do about that,” he added, a little bitterly.
Kate had a sudden, horrifying thought. “Is her mom—”
“No,” he said quickly, “she’s alive. But … it’s complicated.”
She hesitated. “Maybe they could talk on the phone.”
He looked over at her again. His expression was almost amused. “You just get in everyone’s business, don’t you?”
Kate reddened. “I didn’t mean…”
“A professional hazard,” he said, not unkindly.
Again with those eyes that seemed to see right through her. There was a moment when Kate thought maybe she could ask him about the stairwell. Maybe she could get whatever answers she wanted. About him, about Miranda. Then, before she had even figured out how to frame a question, the moment had passed: the opening had closed as soon as she perceived it, like a hologram that vanished when you looked at it straight on.
Theo cleared his throat. “I’m going to go talk to Jemima,” he said. “Let me know if you have any other questions about the papers.”
* * *
Twenty or thirty minutes later, a scream rang out. Kate leaped to her feet and ran to the bottom of the stairs, where she heard Jemima howling, It’s not fair aaaaaaa I hate you eeeeeeee. Theo said something sharply. The screaming stopped.
Kate was hanging on the banister, debating whether to go up. Then a door closed and several footsteps started down the stairs. She ducked back into the dining room just in time to see Theo frog-marching his kids down the hall. Jemima was still sobbing. Oscar looked like he had a stomachache.
Kate waited until they had rounded the corner into the kitchen, then followed them out onto the back porch, where the kids’ daily finds stretched along the edge. Yesterday’s shells were purplish and dark, freshly