“Having a family dinner. I’ve never had that before.”
“Your foster fam—”
“They always made me eat alone in my room.” I shook my head at the ugly memories. “The dinner table was for their real children.”
“Your biological parents never cooked dinner when you were little? Not once?”
“Not that I recall...Although there was this onetime when my mom promised to cook a Christmas dinner...She hyped it up all week, saying that we were finally going to have a real holiday meal together. She even made me and Hayley write out a list of everything we wanted her to make. She and my dad took the lists with them to the grocery store on Christmas Eve...”
“What happened?”
“They didn’t come back until New Year’s.”
“Oh,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry...”
“Jonathan?” Ashley—I think, peeked around the corner. “Do you have a steady hand?”
“I think so. Why?”
“Me and Caroline need someone to trace the blueprint of our model Boeing 707 while we go over the coding. My mom’s hands aren’t steady at all.”
I kissed Claire on her cheek. “Okay.”
I followed Ashley into a large room that was painted light blue with fluffy white clouds. There were model planes everywhere—hanging from the ceiling, sitting in glass cases, and standing on the wall.
“So, putting model planes together is your hobby?” I sat down and began tracing a blueprint in white chalk. “Is this what you two—”
“Our hobby?” Caroline scoffed. “You are sitting with two of our nation’s future top pilots. This is our career we’re talking about.”
“Yeah.” Ashley held up a chart of code. “There aren’t that many women in the skies, and me and my sister are going to change that.”
I looked over their charts, noticing that some of the equations were similar to the ones I’d used to build former programs; a lot of this stuff wasn’t taught until college.
Claire had told me that they were practically geniuses when it came to books, but I’d never met any teenagers who were this well-versed in Physics.
“Do you have your own plane, Jonathan?” Ashley etched a diagonal line alongside my paper.
“I do.”
“What model?” “What type of engine?” “What’s the passenger capacity?” “Is the nonstop range over two thousand miles?”
“I have no idea...”
“What!” Ashley traced around my wing. “How is that possible? You bought a plane and you didn’t ask any of these questions?”
“I guess I have people to do that for me...” I shrugged. “If your mom says it’s okay, I’ll take you on a trip one day. I have an excellent pilot. I’m sure he’d love to give you a tour and answer all your questions.”
They both screamed and squealed, and then they went silent all of sudden, focusing on the task at hand.
“Dessert?” Claire poked her head through the door. “I made crushed Oreo and Butterfinger sundaes.”
“Nobody move!” Ashley yelled. “I need him to hold the wing steady for one more minute. You can’t bring the sundaes in here, mom?”
“No, that’s okay...I don’t want to mess up the new carpet.” Claire flinched. “They’ll be in the kitchen whenever you’re ready. Okay?”
The twins murmured, “Okay” and kept their eyes glued to the charts. Once they finished checking my wing-tracing and writing down the measurements, they dismissed me with an “Okay mom’s boyfriend, you can go now. We’ll be out for dessert eventually.”
I went back into the kitchen but I didn’t see Claire. The sundaes she’d made were sitting on a small tray, slowly melting onto the table, so I placed them in the freezer.
I circled around the living room and her newly finished hallways, looking to see where she’d run off to. I started to walk upstairs, but I heard the creaking of a rocking bench coming from her porch.
“You okay, Claire?” I stepped outside.
“Yeah...I forgot tonight was going to be a starry night.” She pointed up at the twinkling sky. “I wanted to look at it before I cleaned.”
I sat down and pulled her close. “Thank you for dinner tonight. I loved it.”
“You’re welcome. Maybe next time you can come over earlier and cook for all of us instead.”
“You’re referring to our future now? You sure you’re okay?”
She laughed and snuggled against my chest. “Could you please tell me what you want for your birthday? It’s this weekend.”
“Nothing. I never celebrate it.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t.” I needed to stay off that subject. Forever. “Is there a reason why your daughters have iPhones and not sPhones?”
“Of course there is.” She smirked. “It’s because everyone knows that iPhones are better.”
“Are they really?”