Trevor was done with math. He was not even going to think about math until school started again in September.
MacKenzie Isabelle Evans stared out the car window. Then she bounced and squirmed and looked at the clock in the dashboard. “It’s only half an hour until the plane is supposed to land,” she said. “Are we going to be late?”
When Joseph returned to the kitchen, he saw that G.M. had put on her big blue-and-white striped apron. She looked like a real cook. “What’s this?” he asked, shaking a jar with tiny, beige, roundish balls in it.
Then he hurried back to the living room so he wouldn’t miss anything interesting. Dad and Dr. Adams sat on the sofa. Mom was serving icy lemonade. She gave Trevor a glass, too, and he settled himself on the floor near Dad’s feet.
Hannah Maria Estevez looked out the car window. She liked riding in the car. She liked looking out the window, at the always-changing scenery. “It would be nice to live out here in the country,” Dad said as he carefully steered the car on the curvy road.
Mac opened the kitchen door and took a flying leap off the back porch. Dad took the steps. They walked together across the grass to the street. “Which way?” Dad asked.
Trevor Paul Monroe stood at the front window. His nose wasn’t exactly pressed against the glass, but almost. He stared down the street. “They’re here!” he shouted. He ran to the front door and yanked it open.
Joseph Anderson Donetti opened the kitchen door and stepped out onto the back porch. Puffy white clouds floated in the blue spring sky overhead. One of them looked exactly like a long, fat whale.
