“My dears, my dears, you are saved!” Mrs. Weatherspoon cried happily.

The children sat down right there on the steps and Mrs. Weatherspoon read their great-aunt’s letter to them a full eighteen times. Fortunately, it was short.

Dear Mrs. Weatherspoon,

Thank you for informing me of my great-nieces’ predicament. I will take them. Of course I will. Here is my address, my email, and phone number for the girls when they reach civilization where such services are available. Send me their flight times and I will pick them up at the airport here on Pine Island, British Columbia. I live outside St. Mary’s By the Sea but they will come in at Pine Island’s only airport on the north side of the island in Shoreline and I will pick them up there. I look forward to it.

Yours,

Martha McCready

“She looks forward to it!” intoned Mrs. Weatherspoon over and over between readings as if she could not believe their luck. This began to make Fiona feel very undesirable indeed. But she saw Mrs. Weatherspoon’s point. They were not just being taken in on sufferance. Someone wanted them.

When Mrs. Weatherspoon got tired of the letter readings she leapt up and went inside to bake a coconut cake. Mrs. Weatherspoon, who weighed two hundred and fifty pounds, thought cake the proper expression of all joy. The girls thought this one of her more admirable traits and encouraged it always.

Later as the sisters lay in their beds in their large shared bedroom, Fiona said, “It was nice of her to be so happy for us.”

“Happy for herself just as much, I bet. She gets to go home now too,” said Marlin.

“That’s not very charitable of you,” said Fiona, using a phrase their mother had used a lot. She found herself talking more and more as their mother had, as if to remember her with a lexicon of idioms. “She’s been here a year. Of course she’s glad to go home.”

“And it’s been such a sad year,” said Natasha. “It must have been difficult to witness. For a while I cried almost every day.”

“I still cry,” said Charlie.

“Yes, but you cried before Mom and Dad died,” said Marlin. “It is just your nature.”

“I’m not a crybaby,” protested Charlie.

“No, dear,” said Fiona, “you are sensitive.”

“Mrs. Weatherspoon cries too,” said Charlie. “She cries all the time. She cried every night when we discussed where we might end up.”

“She’s sensitive too,” said Fiona.

“She won’t cry anymore now,” said Natasha. “We are saved.”

“I hope that’s the end of all the crying,” said Marlin.

“Yes,” said Fiona. “Mom always said you can look at the world and see all the suffering or you can look at it and see all the joy. Let us be glad for this adventure in Canada. Let us take the view of joy.”

“I want Mommy and Daddy back,” said Charlie.

They were quiet after that. It was not fair to pretend that they didn’t want this too and that Charlie hadn’t only voiced what they all felt. But Fiona vowed privately to try and put a cheery face on things for the sake of the other three whenever possible. She would lead in taking the view of joy. Then they went to sleep.