TALK IS SO easy on the way home. Laine flicks through the spotter pamphlet as though it’s a treasured possession, reading me out the names in Latin to make sure she has the pronunciation right. Her sweet voice makes them ethereal. Magical.Wonderful.“Maybe you could teach me how to spot them in the wild,” she says. “It sounds fun.”“Harder work than the zoo.” I smile to myself. “It’s a different kind of fun, Laine, but no less enjoyable.”“I think I’d like it,” she tells me, and I do too.A few weeks ago I’d have struggled to ever imagine myself trekking into the countryside with jars and nets, but not today. Today anything feels possible.“Better than crosswords, right?” she asks.That makes me laugh. “Yes, Laine, considerably better than crosswords.”“Better than TV, too,” she says.We stop for dinner at a fancy little restaurant on the outskirts of the city, and I stare at her as she scours the menu.“I don’t know what to choose,” she admits. “I don’t know what half this stuff is.
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