Seventy-two
Cammy watched them from the kitchen window as they frolicked in the new snow with Merlin. But for their black hands, black feet, and black noses, they might have been invisible.
The coffeemaker began to gurgle, and the sudden aroma of fresh Jamaica blend flooded the kitchen.
Grady said, “Already, I’m inadequate to homeschool them. Their minds leap ahead of mine. Think you could help?”
“I’d like nothing more. But they’ll probably leap ahead of me too, in no time.”
He joined her at the window, a hand on her shoulder. “Do you lie awake some nights, wondering where this is going—I mean the world now, with them in it and everything so changed?”
She shook her head. “No. Wherever they’re going, they’re taking the world with them, and I know beyond doubt that wherever they want us to be, that’s where we’ll belong.”