Page 9 of Artemis

“Alrighty then,” Finley said, internally cringing and mentally promising himself to never use that phrase again.

Alexander led him over to the change table, and Finley put the toddler on top of it.

“Now what?”

“You open the snaps and take off the diaper. Here’s a clean one and the wipes,” Alexander said.

“How do you know so much about this?” Finley asked. “How old are you?”

“Almost three. Mom says I’m helpful.”

“I bet she does.”

“I like helping.”

Finley smiled. He couldn’t believe that he was finding something to smile about with these kids. “I’m glad you do. I would be completely lost without you.”

“You’re at Maddie’s,” Alexander said, frowning in confusion. “Did you forget?”

“Thank you, Alexander,” Finley replied, stifling his laughter.

“You’re welcome!” Alexander chirped before skipping back to Damien, who was painting on the wall.

Finley picked Lyta up. “Feel better?” he asked her.

“You may not feel comfortable with kids yet, but I think that will come with time,” Maddie said, waddling up to him. “By the time this baby’s out of me, you’ll be able to take care of these kids with one hand tied behind your back.”

“Not a chance,” Finley replied with a shudder. He nodded at the freshly painted landscape on her wall. “Why are you letting him do that?”

“He’s expressing himself creatively,” Maddie said with a chuckle.

“But...” Finley trailed off.

“What, should I yell at him?” Maddie asked impishly. “He’s not hurting anyone, is he?”

“No, of course not.” Finley squirmed internally.

Maddie patted his shoulder. “You’re a little tense. Maybe you should work out after this.”

“Seriously,” he muttered.

“Damien, sweetie,” Maddie said, walking over to the boy. “You remember that if you paint on paper, it will last longer, right? The wall has to be cleaned.”

Damien pouted at her. “But I like this!”

“I do too,” Maddie reassured him. “How about I leave it up while you copy it down on paper, and then you can help me wash the wall before we hang your picture on it. Would you like it in the same place?”

“Yeah! And then, maybe I can bring it home and hang it on my wall!” Damien said excitedly.

“That’s a great idea! Would you like your paper flat on the table or pinned to an easel like a professional artist?”

“What’s po-fish-al?” Damien asked.

“Mom’s a po-fish-al,” Alexander added to the conversation.

“She is!” Maddie agreed with a smile. “It’s someone who does something for money. In this case, we’re talking about an artist who paints for money.”

“Your mom’s a painter?” Damien asked.

---