Page 12 of Single Mom's Christmas Wish

“Hey, the Science Museum sounds fun. We can take one of the guided tours,” Archer suggests.

And just like that, my coffee date that was supposed to be just for two turns into something else entirely. I don’t really know how to feel about it. Excited? Yes, definitely. But I had another scenario in mind. A story that is yet to be written, and it certainly didn’t involve Archer’s brothers or our children.

I don’t mind getting to know Reed and Maddox, too. Lord knows I was dreaming about them going to town on me less than an hour ago. Note to self: Speak to a therapist about this.

“Ready to go?” Archer asks.

I’m suddenly flustered again. My mind has gone haywire.

I smile and nod, then grab my purse, keys, and phone while Maisie steps outside. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I mutter, fingers trembling as I secretly struggle to lock the door.

I ride shotgun while Archer and Maddox sit in the back of Reed’s SUV with Trevor and Maisie. Glancing over my shoulder, I can see my daughter occasionally stealing glances at the boy, ready to smile if he peels his eyes off the video game, but he never looks her way.

Maisie is a smart and friendly girl by nature, yet I understand Trevor’s reluctance to make new friends straight away. In the meantime, his other two dads are watching me like hawks. Reed is too busy driving, but he gives me his full attention along with a charming smile at every stop.

“Thank you for doing this,” Reed says at one point. “I wasn’t sure you’d be interested.”

“We’re taking the kids out,” I reply. “Besides, it’s the Science Museum. The children’s exhibits are always fun.”

He chuckles softly. “Maisie seems like a bright girl.”

“She is— way more than most kids her age,” I say, beaming with pride. “They were actually interested in her over at Prescott Academy.”

Archer scoffs from behind. “That uppity place? Don’t bother.”

“I thought you wanted to enroll Trevor there,” Maddox mutters.

“Eh. They said he might not meet their requirements. Let’s face it—Prescott is the precursor of all that Ivy League BS we swore we’d never put our children through.”

Reed smiles. “They can be pretty elitist; I’ll give them that.”

“And you’d expect they would appreciate a hefty donation on top of that stinging annual tuition fee of theirs,” Archer grumbles.

My guess is Trevor didn’t quite make the cut to become a Prescott student.

“Why would you want Maisie to go there anyway?” Archer asks.

“It’s a top-rated prep school for gifted children,” I reply. “It’s actually the best in the state and one of the highest-ranked in the country. It would give Maisie the opportunity to develop much faster with other kids like her and in a safer environment than a public school.”

“What’s wrong with public schools?” Archer wonders aloud. “We went to public school, and we turned out more than fine.”

“But did any of you qualify as budding geniuses at the age of five?” I ask.

Silence ensues as all eyes—except Reed’s—fall on Maisie. She just smiles and shrugs, tiny hands resting in her lap. “Yeah, they said I’m a genius,” she replies.

“Her IQ is exceptionally high, and she is already reading and writing at a fourth-grade level. She can checkmate any chess club kid between the ages of fifteen and eighteen,” I add. “She’ll be ahead of everyone else in class in a public school, and it would be a disservice to her if I didn’t at least try to enroll her in Prescott.”

Reed raises an eyebrow. “Then do it. I’m sure she’ll be well looked after.”

“Don’t mind Archer, he’s just a tad bitter because they rejected us.”

“I just think all kids deserve a fair chance,” Archer insists.

Reed sighs deeply. “We’ll try again next year. I think Trevor just needs a bit more time to settle down and get used to his new family. Isn’t that right, Trev?”

But the boy doesn’t answer. He sticks to his game, willfully ignoring everyone around him. I give Maisie another look, and she responds with a muted shrug. I smile in a bid to reassure her.

Once we reach the museum, Trevor’s demeanor shifts ever so slightly. His eyes are wide and sparkling with curiosity, though he barely says a word. He puts the game away, at least for the time being. Maisie glues her hand to mine, and the six of us walk into the Science Museum, delighted that there’s not much of a crowd. It’s easier to keep an eye on the kids when there aren’t many people and other children around.

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