Ethan shrugged. “She’ll get over it.” He slid his sketchbook over to me. “Okay, this is what I’m thinking of in terms of sets. Nothing fancy, but enough of a visual to help the kids and the audience get the feel of each number.”

“Amazing,” I said. “You’re so talented.”

Ethan smiled his surfer boy smile. “Right back at you. Having the kind of creativity that allows you to pull something like this together in a fun, age-appropriate way is a big deal. And Polly has told me about how you can rewrite lyrics to any song at the drop of a hat. You should think about packaging materials for other preschool teachers.”

“Really?” I said.

“Yeah, really. And if you want to brainstorm about ways we could include a set design component, I’d be up for that.”

“Really?” I said. Apparently really was the only word I still remembered how to say.

Ethan laughed. “Think about it. Maybe we can discuss it over the holiday break.”

“Sure.” I looked at him carefully, trying to figure out if he had an ulterior motive. Maybe Ethan was only pretending he wanted to brainstorm with me so he could legitimately spend time at my house, where Polly just happened to be living.

“Hey,” I said. “I just have to ask you this. Were you at my house last night?”

Ethan looked right at me. No fidgeting, no looking off to the side, no shaking his sun-streaked hair.

“No, why?” he said. “Is Polly okay?”

I’d just finished woofing down a bowl of unlabeled casserole that tasted bizarrely of chicken pot pie, like comfort food dipped in a different comfort food. I’d put the rest of it back in the oven and turned the oven down, so that anybody else who showed up could dig in when they felt like it. If there was anything left, I’d probably zap some more for breakfast. Being in a construction zone was a great excuse to let my food standards dip even lower than they already were.

I’d also fed the cats. Now I was sitting with all four kittens in my lap while Pebbles cleaned up the leftovers from their dishes. John and Horatio must have been off having their own adventure, since Horatio wasn’t waiting around for a treat and John’s car hadn’t been in the driveway when I’d pulled in.

The door to the cat room opened. Oreo leaped off my lap and made a run for the door. I made a run for Oreo. Squiggy and Catsby spilled off my lap and bounced around on the sofa. Sunshine held on for dear life.

“Holy cats,” Carol said as she walked right in. “Find a home for some of these felines, will you?”