Page 69 of Knights Like These
“Okay,” she says.
I grin, and she rolls her eyes as I walk upstairs to change. The house sounds right. It sounds the way it’s supposed to—her at the island, the twins’ voices from the playroom, the hum of a life that isn’t just mine anymore.
It’s ours.
I’m done being afraid of that.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Date
Sydney
Logan arrives forty-five minutes early with a backpack and what appears to be a 3-ring binder stuffed with papers.
“I came prepared,” he announces from the doorway, holding up the binder. “Heimlich instructions for toddlers, what to do if someone has a febrile seizure, poison control number.” He steps inside and looks around. “Also, do you have a fire extinguisher? And what’s the meeting point if we need to evacuate?”
Archer stares at him. “The meeting point?”
“In case of fire. You need a designated meeting point. I’d suggest the mailbox. It’s far enough from the structure.”
Archer glances at the binder, then at me, and back at the binder. “Logan, it’s four hours.”
“Four hours is plenty of time for an emergency, Arch. I’m just being thorough.” He sets the binder on the coffee table and pulls out his phone. “Can you walk me through the floor plan? Where are the kids’ rooms relative to the exits?”
Then Archer looks at me. I press my lips together tightly, trying not to laugh; if I do, he’ll never forgive me.
Lily appears at the top of the stairs in her pajamas, surveys the scene—Logan on the couch, binder open—and walks down the stairs like she owns the place.
“Hi, Logan.” She stops in front of him, hands on her hips. “Are you the babysitter?”
“I am tonight.”
“Can you do braids?”
“I, uh—” Logan looks at me with genuine alarm. “I don’t think I can do braids.”
“Then what can you do?”
“I can make popcorn, and I know all the words toFrozen.”
Lily stares at him for three full seconds, running her internal calculations, and then nods once. “Okay. You can stay.”
Luke comes downstairs holding a book about beluga whales. He sits on the couch next to Logan and opens the book without acknowledging his existence, which is the highest form of acceptance Luke offers to strangers.
Archer goes over the routine—bedtime at eight, one story each. Lily will try to negotiate for more; don’t let her. Luke will want the hallway light on. Logan takes notes in the binder, writing by hand, and I watch Archer’s face cycle through about six different emotions, none of which he expresses out loud.
“We’ll be back by ten,” Archer says.
“Take your time.” Logan waves us off. “We’re going to have a great night. Right, guys?”
“RIGHT,” Lily yells.
Luke turns a page.
I guide Archer to the door before he changes his mind.
In the car, he grips the steering wheel and exhales slowly through his nose. “I just left my children with a man who made a babysitting binder.”
