If Not For A Bee

“I can’t thank you guys enough. How about if I buy everyone breakfast at the Cozy Caribou?”

That suggestion was met with enthusiastic agreement. Reagan walked over and inspected the microscope. “Wow, awesome microscope. What’s the magnification?”

As Aidan discussed microscopes with Reagan something occurred to him. “Do you boys think you could spare a few more hours after breakfast? I could use some help getting unpacked.”

“Yes,” Reagan said excitedly.

“No, sorry, I can’t,” Gareth answered politely.

Bering glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “Gareth is playing basketball. I’m supposed to drop him off in an hour. But Reagan can stay if he wants. Emily or I can swing by and pick him up this afternoon. I’ll call Janie and let her know. I’m sure she won’t mind.”

Aidan wasn’t nearly as sure, but he was desperate enough for help that he put that thought aside. Surely the misunderstanding between him and Janie wouldn’t extend to her children.

* * *

THAT SAME AFTERNOON Aidan strolled down the main street in Rankins admiring some of the old buildings and the homey feel of the town. The sun had disappeared behind a patch of clouds, which seemed to instantly lower the temperature. The chilly air began creeping into his open jacket and he wondered how long it would take him to acclimate to the cooler weather. He reached for the zipper, felt his stitched-together fingers throb painfully and switched hands, reminding him again of his predicament—and a possible solution.

Reagan had been a world of help to him, which had prompted him to ask if he’d like to assist him on a regular basis—at least until his hand healed.