The Checklist by Addie Woolridge (famous ebook reader txt) 📕

skeletons and recreations of prehistoric landscapes as they made their way deeper into the room. “So as background, what you’ll notice is most museums dedicate a space for children and then a much larger space to house the actual collection,” he said, angling them toward a corner of the museum that was, in fact, specifically dedicated to children. “The educators basically create a program around the collections’ setup.”

“Is that bad?” Dylan asked, tearing her attention away from a massive creature etched in stone and anchoring it to Mike’s cheekbones. She had to give his genetic combination credit. Most people wouldn’t be interesting enough to physically compete with a fossilized stegosaurus.

Mike hummed low in his throat for a moment. “It isn’t so much good or bad as different.”

“How so?” Dylan avoided pointing out how diplomatic his answer was.

“The programs are well designed, but space limitations often force museums to use a lot of ‘find and observe’ techniques. Less of the touch, feel, smell, and do that most children learn with.”

“Is that why children put everything in their mouths? To learn? Here I thought it was a death wish.”

Mike laughed, the sound rolling across the room. “Exactly. Although with toddlers you never know.” He began pointing out features of the museum, dodging the occasional overexcited tiny human as they made their way around the brightly colored room. Dylan couldn’t help but be drawn in by his passion as he described the theories behind the books and worksheets dotting the child-size tables. It struck her that Nicolas didn’t talk about his work like this. Precision, drive, and competition were all words she would use for the way he approached work. But passion? Dylan wasn’t sure about that one. Wandering around the room with Mike, she hoped she talked about her job the way he did. It was easy to make fun of consultants, but she loved fixing companies and helping people enjoy where they spent the majority of their waking hours. If she sounded like Nicolas, that was something she wanted to change.

Slowly, Mike made his way around the room, letting the minutes tick by, before coming to a stop in front of a crate of rubber creatures.

“That is about all there is to see. Unless you want to check out the rest of the museum.”

“Do we have time?”

“The schedule is entirely up to you. My time is yours.”

Dylan froze for a second, torn between her need for expediency and her desire to look at the giant fossil in the corner. The battle between her inner list maker and her six-year-old self had the potential to be a long one. Mike must have seen it on her face, because he shifted his posture toward the door and smiled before adding, “I can always come back with you. We can literally come anytime you want. Does that help?”

“I’m going to hold you to that promise.” Dylan’s mouth quirked up. “I have one request. I want to look at that one over there. Then we can go.” Dylan pointed at the fossil, not bothering to hide her enthusiasm.

“I knew it.” Mike chuckled and started walking over to the piece. “Everyone loves that one.”

“You mean everyone under the age of ten? Because that seems to be the crowd.”

Mike shrugged. “I’m not here to judge. But we’re lucky we are tall. We won’t be able to get any closer. At least not without pushing a few first graders.”

Dylan was nearly finished squinting at the plaque that read DASPLETOSAURUS when she took a shoulder to the thigh, sending her off balance and straight into Mike’s side. He wrapped a steadying arm around her, driving a warm shiver right through her. Dylan blinked up at him, enjoying the feeling of his touch lingering for just a fraction of a second longer than she expected. Mike gazed down at her for a moment, licking his lips, before dropping his arm and breaking the spell.

“Ouch,” Dylan mumbled, feeling the absence of his closeness more than the pain of taking a shoulder to the leg. A light-headedness set in so swiftly that it caught her off guard. It wasn’t that she desired Mike, per se, she reassured herself; it was more the missing feeling of physical closeness that made her head spin.

“Doing okay?” he asked, his voice low over the hum of activity.

“I’m all right,” she said, in response to her mind as much as her body. Dylan reached down to rub her leg, hoping she didn’t bruise. “I think it is time to give my spot to the future linebacker over there.” The healthy-looking nine-year-old who’d pushed past her didn’t seem to notice she had knocked into anyone.

Mike laughed gently. “The Seahawks could learn maneuvering tactics in a children’s museum. Don’t worry—you take enough shoulders to the knees, and you toughen up,” he said, cutting through the crowd toward the car.

“Where to next?” Dylan asked as they ambled across the parking lot.

Mike squinted, unlocking the car as his eyes adjusted to the new light. The Seattle gloom had a living quality to it. It had shifted while they were inside, and the gray now made the world look like it was bathed in a bright smoke. It wasn’t anything close to sunny, but it was as close as the city was likely to get. The familiarity of it made Dylan feel at home.

“I’m thinking MoPOP next.”

Dylan smirked, thinking about the neon Gehry at the heart of downtown. “My mother called it ‘ghastly’ the other day. I can’t wait to tell her I visited.”

“She is still holding a grudge, then?”

“I think she wants to be. In reality, she wishes she thought to put that much shiny metal over the train.” Dylan was only half telling the truth. MoPOP was a target of constant derision for longtime Seattleites. Designed to look like the sections of a heart, it was kindly described as bold or bizarre. If the person describing the museum was less charitable, they would call it ugly.

“Mom still thinks it looks