Aunt Annie just laughs and turns to Misha, who flashes just enough of a sheepish smile to make me wonder if maybe, just maybe, I was the very last person to be informed about today’s little field trip.
So much for reclaiming my independence.
The moment Misha’s soft snore reaches a crescendo, Aunt Annie gives me a wink and gestures for me to follow her outside.
It’s been an hour of snacks and conversation, which has been great for me and Aunt Annie, but the boys couldn’t hang. Remi abandoned us for the backyard a while back, and Misha was dozing off and on for fifteen minutes before he finally gave in and curled up on the couch.
Aunt Annie rests her cane against the wall and we settle on the patio sofa where we can watch Remi make sweeping circles of the yard, a fallen tree branch balan
