“Hi, Ms. Shaw!” they chorused.

“How was school today?”

“Good!”

“Students of yours?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Not currently. I had their older brother last year. The girls are in second grade—they’re twins—but it’s a small school. Everyone knows everyone.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Twins.” Sadie shook her head. “I cannot imagine that. Two at once.”

“I can’t even imagine one at once,” I said.

“Oh, come on.” She nudged me with her leg and patted her belly. “Junior here is going to need a cousin someday. Can’t you find a nice hermit girl to settle down with?”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

Another sigh. “Have you even been on a date lately?”

I pretended to think. “When you say date, do you mean—”

“I mean you ask a girl to have dinner with you, you pick her up and make polite conversation, you respectfully kiss her goodnight—if she says it’s okay.”

“That sounds boring as fuck.”

Sadie elbowed me. “Oh, come on, it does not. Are you really going to be alone forever?”

“Why not? It sounds peaceful to me.”

“It’s not peaceful, it’s weird. And it’s not healthy. You’re going to end up being that old guy in the neighborhood no one likes who’s always yelling at the kids to get off his lawn.”

“Because it’s my lawn.”

She sighed. “You’re hopeless. I give up.”

We watched the kids across the street go in and out of the house a few times, returning to their stand with various items—plastic cups, two pitchers of lemonade, a small box I guessed would be their bank, a big sign that said LEMONADE FOR CHAIRITY 50 SENTS.

“Oh, dear. Should we tell them?” Sadie wondered.

“No. Don’t be such a teacher,” I scoffed. “This isn’t school.”

The two girls took turns holding the sign, and waving frantically at the occasional passing car, but there wasn’t much traffic on the street. Ten minutes went by, and nobody had stopped. Eventually, they sat on the grass, looking a little dejected.

“Oh, look how sad they are. Go buy some, Tyler.” She elbowed me.

“I don’t even like lemonade,” I complained, but I was already getting to my feet. On my way across the street, I took my wallet from my pocket. The twins jumped up excitedly as I approached, huge grins on their faces.

“Would you like some lemonade?” one of them asked with a heavy lisp. And it was no wonder—she was missing both front teeth. Close up, I realized they weren’t perfectly identical, but they both had big brown eyes, blond hair, and pigtails. They reminded me of Sadie at that age.

“Yes, I would,” I said, taking some bills from my wallet. “How much for two cups?”

“It’s fifty cents each, so two would be one dollar,” answered the other one. Her T-shirt said Girl Power, and the i in Girl was a lightning bolt. “And we’re giving all the money to charity.”

“What charity?”

“St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital,” they recited at the exact same time.

“Hmm. That’s a good cause. Can you break a hundred?” I teased, holding out a crisp new Benjamin.

The twins exchanged a worried look. “We only have quarters in here,” fretted the one with the lisp. Quarterth.

I smiled. “That’s okay. Tell you what. You give me two nice big cups of lemonade and I’ll donate all one hundred dollars. How does that sound?”

This time, the look the two girls exchanged was pure, open-mouthed excitement. “Wow!” said Girl Power. “Thanks, mister!”

I handed over the hundred and watched as they carefully tucked it into their cash box then poured lemonade, one holding the cup steady, the other concentrating hard, the pitcher in both hands. Looking relieved when both cups were full, they each handed me one.

“Thanks, girls. Good luck.”

“Thank you! Bye!”

I could still hear them squealing while I crossed the street.

Sadie was leaning back on her hands, a suspicious smile on her face. “How much did you give them? They can’t stop looking in their box.”

I handed her a cup of lemonade. “A hundred bucks.”

“A hundred bucks!” She laughed. “Are you crazy?”

I lowered myself onto the cement. “They’re giving the money to St. Jude Children’s Hospital. It’s a good cause.”

She pointed her nose at me. “Softie.”

The girls were still laughing and marveling over their good fortune, peeking into the cash box as if to make sure the hundred hadn’t escaped. When they saw me looking at them, they waved excitedly.

“I think you have some new fans,” remarked Sadie.

I laughed, taking a sip of the lemonade in case the girls were still watching, then setting it aside. “They’re a little young for me.”

We sat in silence for a moment. I readjusted my cap. “I ran into April Sawyer this morning.”

Sadie looked over at me. “Did you? Where?”

“At the track over at the high school. I went for a run this morning, and she was there walking.”

She nodded. “Did you say hello?”

“Yeah. We chatted for a bit.” I hesitated. “She looks good.”

My sister nodded.

“She still has that red hair,” I went on.

Sadie gave me the side-eye but didn’t say anything.

I waited for what I hoped was an appropriate amount of time. “So is she married?”

“Nope.” Again, she stuck her elbow in my ribs. “Why do you ask?”

I moved away from her. “Will you quit elbowing me? I was just curious.”

She sighed dramatically. “Too bad. I always wanted you guys to be a thing.”

“You did?”

“Sure. At one point, I had this whole fantasy where you two got married and lived next door to me.” She giggled. “How come you never dated her?”

I shrugged. “I never wanted a girlfriend—I didn’t have time. Plus, I’m not sure she’d have dated me anyway—she was too busy making jokes about my big ego.”

“You guys never even . . . you know, hooked up?”

I thought about lying, but then thought, fuck it. I trusted Sadie. “Actually, we did. Once.”

She bolted upright. “You did?”

I nodded. “The night before I left for Arizona.”

“Wow.” She leaned back on her hands again. “Wow. I didn’t see that coming. Nothing ever came of it?”

Taking a deep breath, I admitted the truth. “Something did come of it. She got pregnant.”

Silence.

I looked over at my sister, who was staring at me, her chin practically in her lap. “What did you say?”

“April got pregnant that night.”

“Oh. My. God.” Sadie sat up tall and put a hand over her heart. “I’m in shock.”

“We were too. Believe me.”

“So what happened?”

“She gave it up for adoption. We agreed I wouldn’t be named as the father to make everything easier.”