“Yeah, but I want to hold up my end of the contract,” Ros said.

“Baby steps,” I said. “Or maybe today could be a good day to write some poetry?” Before their dad left, Ros was always scribbling away, writing poems in a black notebook.

“Maybe,” they said. “It’s been so long since I’ve written anything, though. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Start with the Lily Pad,” I said. “Or start with the river. Or start with the fact that we’re in this place called Lovesick Falls, a name that’s practically poetry itself.…”

“Hey, Shakespeare,” Touchstone said. “We should really get going—”

I looked at my watch. “Oh my God, is that the time? We’ve gotta go! Bye, Ros—text me if you need anything—come on, let’s go, Touch—”

Ros called to us wishing us a good first day as we ran out to the car, and we were off.

On the drive to work I got my first glimpse of town, whose sleepy main street was growing slightly livelier as the mist burned off. It wouldn’t reach peak hum until the theater season started, which wasn’t for another two and a half weeks, with the opening of Into the Woods. For now, its sidewalks were thinly dotted with people: an older couple holding paper cups of coffee and greasy brown bags; some day hikers kitted out in boots and hiking poles; shop owners putting out their signs for the day. We followed a pickup truck with two shaggy dogs in its bed, who barked gleefully at everyone they passed.

“There’s a really nice beach down that way, where my brothers used to pretend to drown to scare me,” Touch said. Touchstone had two much older brothers, ten and eight years his senior, heavily involved in sports, who’d spent a lifetime tormenting their much younger sibling.

“Your brothers are awful,” I said.

“Don’t I know it. And that place makes incredible breakfast sandwiches—and, oh, Henry also mentioned this other place, the Dropped Acorn—it’s a little farther away, but it’s supposed to be incredible.…”

“Do we think they’ll be okay?” I asked Touchstone.

“Yeah, that’s the whole point. The food is supposed to be amazing.”

“No—do we think Ros will be okay today?”

“I think Ros would actually appreciate my fabulous tour guiding.”

“Seriously,” I said. “I worry about them all on their own.”