“Huh.” Nash halted in the middle of the walking track and stared at the text message on his phone: Can you cut it short and come back up please?

Grampy stopped beside him and leaned on his cane. Nash showed him Emmitt’s message and asked, “What do you make of that?”

Chortling, Grampy replied, “I learned a long time ago to just take things at face value. Go with the flow and don’t let my imagination get the better of me.”

“You mean you’re not going to help me read between the lines?” Nash put his hands on his hips in mock consternation.

“Nothing’s missing between any lines.” Grampy winked and started toward the exit. “Come on, whippersnapper, before you start jumping to conclusions like you’re prone to do.”

Nash didn’t need any additional motivation to follow. Having his tendency pointed out to him kept him from voicing his concerns aloud, and he at least tried not to picture any worst-case scenarios. Never mind that it was only because his imagination couldn’t come up with anything that made sense.

The elevator seemed slow enough it was easy to fancy a cluster of trolls pulling it up with a rope and pulley rather than the smooth mechanical system his rational self knew was behind it. Although Nash was pretty sure he wasn’t projecting any yearning for Grampy to walk faster once they finally reached their floor, Grampy’s sly grin made him question that.

When they finally reentered their apartment, Emmitt was standing by the kitchen island with a huge wide grin.

“What?” Nash put a hand to his heart. At least it was clearly good news, but still…

“It’s been a while since we talked about it, so I wanted to speak to you before proceeding.”

“Please, just say it!”

“Are you still okay with having older children placed with us, or would you rather hold out for an infant? We got a call. Three brothers need a home.”

Nash had to put a hand on the wall to steady himself. He was incapable of words, but he was pretty sure his beaming smile and frantically bobbing head did the job.