So this was supposed to be posted on like…March 1st. And here we are on the 12th. But I got hit with the flu, and I hadn't actually had it since about 2001 and I totally forgot just how much it knocks you out. I swear I've been sleeping 20 hours a day when I'm not at work.
Paige always knew when Tad's class had gone outside for some hands – on learning, because that made the boy stressed and tired when he arrived at the garage. He liked being outside on his own terms, but putting a structured educational aspect to it drained him of his otherwise seemingly infinite vault of energy. So, despite being "too old" for an after – school nap, Team Scorpion let him sleep.
Paige sat on the edge of the bed, slowly rubbing Tad's back to help him relax and drift off.
"And when he smiles he makes the sun shine.
He wouldn't think to make it rain.
Happiness runs in the family; he's a boy from the good old Earth and the high tree forest.
And he's just about the happiest boy that I ever knew."
Paige was nearly twenty years removed from when she thought she might be able to make a career in singing, but she'd spent the past six years lulling children to sleep this way, and she was so, so grateful that this was the primary way she used her voice. She couldn't think of anything better than this.
"And when he smiles he makes me sigh.
He doesn't have a point of view.
Happiness runs in the family; he's a boy from the good old Earth and the high tree forest.
And he's just about the happiest boy that I ever knew."
She could tell by Tad's breathing that he had fallen asleep, but she finished the song before leaning over and gently kissing the top of his head. She rose slowly, expertly avoiding any squeaky floorboards as she made her way out of the loft and back down the stairs. With any luck, he would wake up rejuvenated and ready to play with his sister when she and their parents got home from the preschool parent night they were currently attending.
The giggles of her daughter were a welcome soundtrack to her arrival on the main floor. Amber was in her octagonal playpen – a large, toddler sized one that Happy had made for Tad – amusing herself with the pull back car that Richard Elia had given her as a gift after, as Walter put it, Team Scorpion had "saved his ass yet again."
"Is that fun, baby girl?" Paige asked.
"Look!" Amber released the car, shrieking in delight when it crashed into the wall of the playpen. "It just goes!"
"Physics," Paige said, leaning over and putting her hands on her knees. "It's physics."
Amber frowned. "It's a car."
"Yes. The car is what goes forward, and physics is what makes the car go forward."
"I make the car go forward."
Paige nodded. "Physics is the science thing that means you can make it go forward."
Amber stared at her blankly.
"You'll understand when you're older, baby."
Amber put the car down and picked up a ball. "One, two, eight!" She shouted as she threw the ball over the playpen.
Paige scampered to pick it up. "One, two, three," she said, returning to her daughter. "It's one, two, three." She tossed the ball back inside.
"One, two, eight!" The ball flew back out.
Paige laughed. "No, Amber." She poised herself as if she was going to shoot into a basket. "One…two…three!"
"One…two…"
"Three."
"EIGHT."
"I swear, child," Paige said, managing to catch the ball this time.
"I'm a funny lady."
"That you are," Paige said, smiling.
"Mommy?"
"Baby?"
Amber grabbed the top of her pen with both hands. "Can I have music?"
Paige hunted around for the kid radio and handed it to her daughter. "Now when Daddy gets here, he and I have some things to discuss. So you can play this, but try to keep it down, okay?"
"Okay."
"At least I said it," Paige muttered under her breath as she headed toward the door, having heard Walter's car pulling up.
"Hey," Walter said, grinning at her as he entered the garage. "How are you?"
"I'm good," she said, hugging him. "Did you get the message that we're watching Tad until later?"
"I did. My phone has not stopped working."
"Walter."
"Sorry." He shook his head. "I don't do that too often anymore."
"I have some more news about our potential windfall," Paige said. "If you're interested in hearing about it."
"Naturally I am." Walter crossed the room to the play pen, where Amber was standing on her tip toes looking up at him. "Hey, Ambie."
"Daddy," she said, dragging out the Y. Walter leaned down and hugged her. "How was work?"
Walter chuckled. "I wasn't at work, you goof."
Amber looked surprised. "But where were you?"
"Wow, I'm getting the third degree here," Walter said, looking at Paige in amusement. "I was out running errands for home. Mama was the one at work today."
"Why?"
"Because we live in a feminist society," Walter said, so casually Paige had to stifle a laugh.
"What's a minist society?"
"Something you'll appreciate when you're older," Walter said. "Now you play with your toys while Mama and I talk, okay?"
"I have the radio." Amber picked it up and showed him.
"Oh, excellent. Play with the radio." Walter straightened up and looked at Paige. "Talk upstairs?"
"Tad's sleeping up there."
"Right. Well, I suppose…" he gestured around the space.
"We're good to talk here, yeah," Paige said. "I got a little more information today. Not much, but I'd say any information is helpful. Of course, the other people got the same information, but…"
"Do we know who the main competitors are?"
Paige grinned, pleased to be able to reveal that information. "That. We. Do."
Walter hiked himself up onto his desk. "Lay it on me."
"I wish I could," she said, "but our child is right there."
Walter stared at her blankly. She giggled. "That was a – "
"Oh," he said. She saw his cheeks pink up slightly. "Right. Got it. Ha, yeah. Anyway."
"Anyway." Paige took out her phone and pulled up the e-mail app. "Doo de doo…okay, here it is. So first on this list is Steven Royce."
"I've heard of him. He's the…the…" Walter snapped his fingers. "The law cop."
Paige raised her eyebrows. "Attorney?"
Walter nodded, snapping his fingers again. "Yes. That's the word I was looking for."
"Yeah, so he's on here, I think because of the type of clients he's been taking on recently. Then we have someone named Chana Wolowitz, who I hadn't heard of but a Google search showed she has done quite a few exciting things on the East Coast in green chem over the past few years."
"Green chem," Walter said. "That's certainly a field this benefactor would be interested in."
"I agree. Next on the list is Thomas Beek. He's working on agricultural improvements in Cambodia."
"Are we sure he isn't working on ornithological improvements in Cambodia?"
"Is this because his last name is Beek?"
"Yes."
"Nice. But no." Paige scrolled. "Next is us…I'm just realizing this isn't in alphabetical order…okay, so there's also a company that I can't pronounce, they appear to be Polish, and they're working on prosthetic limbs. And last on the list is Marcie Lucas. I know of her. She won the Judith A. Resnik Award the second year after they reinstated it."
"Isn't…isn't that award about Space Engineering? What relevance does that have to do with humanitarian work?"
"Helping make the world a better place is subjective," Paige said. "Sally Ride is most well known for her space travels, but she did a lot to encourage children to pursue the sciences."
"I…was going to say that space technology can be adapted for practical every day use on Earth," Walter said, "but hey, your thing works too."
Paige rolled her eyes. "Yeah, so a lot going on here. A lot of good people."
"Agreed."
"I don't want to call it a competition," Paige said slowly.
"Anyone who gets this money will do good things with it. The planet will benefit greatly."
"That it will."
They fell silent, looking at each other. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Walter asked after a moment.
"That technically it is a competition and we're gonna win?"
"Exacly."
They high fived. "We'll tell the team at the meeting tomorrow, sound good?" she asked.
"Sounds good."
Paige grinned, kissing him quickly. "I'm excited. We're going to change the world."
"And smile!"
"I can't in good conscience smile knowing that we're being deceitful."
"Florence, in ten years neither of us are going to remember that we took this one day late, and no one else is ever going to know."
"Two counterpoints," she said, holding up two fingers. "One, no one will be looking at these in ten years because no one looks at these ten days after a baby is born, and two, if anyone does, it will be us, and both of us will remember that I was technically past the twelve – week mark when we took the twelve – week photo. Florence smoothed down the front of her sweater. "But we'll let this be a learning experience. We certainly won't be late any other weeks."
"Oh, this is a cute one. I like it." Sylvester was smiling at the camera.
Florence cocked her head. "You didn't take it yet."
"Oh," Sylvester said with a grin, "but I did."
He showed her the display. She was standing in the spot, a small grin on her face, throwing up a peace sign…no, that was her putting up the two fingers to argue that they would always know the photo was taken a day late. She rolled her eyes. "I hate you."
"You love me, and you also agree the photo is cute because I saw your smile when you looked at it."
"Fine. I love it. I look adorable. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"That. And maybe that you think it's time for us to tell people."
"You think it is?"
He shrugged. "I mean, you were twelve weeks yesterday, meaning we are officially out of the first trimester." His eyes widened. "Oh my God, this is a second trimester pregnancy."
"Damn," Florence said, the realization hitting her. She grinned. "Okay. Yes. I want to tell people. I want to tell everyone." She hugged him, sighing when he ran his fingers through her hair. "I've loved keeping it between us. But I want to tell people."
"Same here," he said. "On both accounts. How do you want to do it? At the meeting tomorrow? Or individually?"
"Those are always boring meetings," Florence said. "They'll be grateful for us to bring something interesting to the table."
