Magic Hour

“Is that the kind of questions you learned in that decade of college?”

Julia laughed. “Exactly so. Here’s another one: how does it make you feel?”

Ellie didn’t quite know how to answer that. She’d heard this new picture of herself, but it didn’t feel like a reflection yet. It felt like a possibility, one she could change or talk her way out of if she really wanted to. She’d always thought of herself as a good person who really cared about others. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“For what?”

“I threw you to the media wolves. All I cared about was . . .” She started to say finding Alice’s name, but the pretty little lie caught in her throat. It was only partially true. “I didn’t want to fail. I hardly thought about your feelings.”

Julia surprised her by smiling. “Don’t worry about it.”

“If it matters, I didn’t really know how bad it would be for you. Maybe if I’d known—” At Julia’s look, Ellie laughed. “Okay, it wouldn’t have mattered. But I am sorry.”

“Don’t be. Really. Alice is my second chance. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”

They were silent for a long moment.

“I want to adopt her,” Julia said finally. “Alice needs to know she belongs someplace, and with someone, even if she doesn’t really understand it all yet. And I need her.”

“What happens if someone shows up to claim her?”

Softly, Julia said: “Then I’ll need my sister, won’t I?”

Ellie’s throat tightened. She realized right then how much she’d missed when she and Julia went their separate ways, and how much it mattered to her that they had come back together. “You can count on me.”

“ALICE, YOU’RE NOT PAYING ATTENTION. WE’RE PLAYING WITH THE blocks now.”

The little girl shook her head and jutted her chin in stubborn defiance. “No. Prittees.” She jumped up from the chair and ran around to the Christmas tree. Each ornament fascinated her, but the red ones most of all.

Julia couldn’t help smiling. It had been this way from the moment they put the tree up. They’d had to work at the dining room table so Alice could always see the ornaments. “Come on, Alice. Five more minutes with the blocks. Then I have a surprise for you.”

Alice turned to her. “Prize?”

Julia nodded. “After blocks.”

Alice sighed dramatically and stomped back to the dining table. She plopped in her chair and crossed her arms.

This time Julia had to turn her head to hide her smile. Alice was certainly learning to express her emotions. “Show me seven blocks.”

Alice rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything as she culled seven blocks from the pile beside her elbow. “Seven.”

“Now show me four blocks.”

Alice removed three blocks from the string she’d just created, shoving them back into the pile.

Julia frowned. “Wait a minute. Did you just subtract the blocks?” No. It couldn’t be. The girl could only count to twenty so far. Addition and subtraction were too complex.

Alice stared at her blankly.

Before, in counting blocks, Alice had always started fresh, returning all the blocks to the pile and then choosing the newly requested number. “Are you rushing to get to your surprise or was that just a lucky guess?”

“Prize?”

“Show me one block.”

Alice’s smile fell. Dutifully, she removed three blocks from the pile, leaving one.

“How many more blocks do you need to have six?”