“They’re attached to the carousel, going round and round, and they’re stuck there. But then, all of a sudden, they realize they can ride their horses anywhere. It’s like they could do that all along but didn’t know it.” She demonstrated with one of the cardboard horses, moving it through the air in leaping arcs around the room. “Every time I ride a carousel, I tell my horse to jump off and run away.” She laughed. “None of the horses listen to me.”

She finally glued the last horse into place.

We moved on to trees, a garden, rock formations, and a playground.

Natalie studied the completed diorama. “One day I want to build this park for real,” she said to me conspiratorially.

“Are you going to be an architect when you grow up, like your parents?” A sharp burn of envy pierced through me, but it was mitigated by the unassuming expression in Natalie’s eyes.

“If I’m good enough.” Her quiet tone of voice indicated she didn’t believe she would be. It was as if she thought there was only so much talent handed out to one family: Her mother had most of it. Her father had what was left over.

“You’ll be good enough.”

“I hope I win the contest,” she whispered, though we were the only two people in the house.

I felt myself becoming concerned for Natalie. She was a very sensitive girl. As much as I admired Amelia and Fritz, I sensed that they were not fulfilling their daughter’s needs. She didn’t have enough of their attention. I understood exactly how she felt.

After dinner, Natalie got in bed and read for half an hour. I returned to her room to say good night. She turned back one of the pages of The Giver by Lois Lowry to mark her place and then positioned the book on her nightstand.

I picked it up and looked at the jacket copy. “How’s the book?”

“It’s about a community where everyone’s assigned their life work,” she said. “No one gets to decide anything or choose anything.”

I studied the image of the man’s face on the cover.

“I’d like to have some choices,” she said.

“You’ll create your own choices,” I said, “like I do.”

CHAPTER FOUR

In the Straubs’ home office, I turned on the overhead lights and sat down at Amelia’s walnut desk, where I found two new Post-its. One read travel, and underneath were written several dates. Another read couples counselor and a phone number. Amelia’s inability to carry another child had obviously put a strain on the Straubs’ marriage. Of course, I felt deep concern for both of them, but I also had the exhilarating realization that the Straubs and I had crossed paths now for a reason. Perhaps, I was in a position to help them.