“Bye Mom. See you tomorrow. Will Aunt Gina be picking us up from school?” Pansy asked into the phone.
It was Sunday evening, a school day tomorrow. The girls were settling into a routine of sorts, at least at her end, Mrs. James thought; during the week, with their mother and aunt, perhaps not so much, was her own first impression. Now, on nights when Greg was going to be out late and she chose not to wait up for him at his place, the girls stayed over, sleeping on the fold-out couch in her den. 
Their mother, Georgia Mendel, an art and design school graduate with a specialty in visual media, had hoped for a career as a designer. One magical day, whilst taking mundane team photos, she had met and been swept off her feet by Greg Mendel. Long, romantic story short, they were married and too soon the puzzled and exhausted parents of twin daughters. Twins were a characteristic of the Mendel line, his family explained. Totally unprepared for the upheaval, Georgia abandoned hopes of artistry and put her time into caring for a pair of toddlers. Greg landed a bigger coaching job. She was resentful when away games took Greg’s help along with them. She was enraged when the away games became games away from home. After the long and drawn-out divorce, she drew increasingly on the assistance of her older and single sister Gina, who was steady and obliging and eventually just moved in with Georgia.
“Now that it’s decided that the girls are with us on weekdays, I’m thinking of trying to get something full time again.” Georgia opened the discussion with Gina over a bottle of wine, one night after the girls had finally stopped talking to each other and settled to sleep.
“The placement orders finally say that he has them regularly on weekends. That’s going to throw off our schedules, too.” Gina grumbled. She had a regular and boring, 8 – 4 job in the city police department. But it did give her time with her nieces, which she liked. Now that she wouldn’t be seeing them on weekends, she would be bored then as well. “I’ll ask about changing around some hours, if you like. Maybe I could get some weekday time off instead, depending on what you get of course, and spend some time with them after school. They are starting to offer flex time for some parents, I think. But anyway, I’ll ask.”
“Any options we can try, I guess.” Gina called Georgia at lunch next afternoon.
“So I went to personnel, or human resources, or whatever. While I was waiting, I was looking at the job postings. There’s a position for police photographer. Want to angle for this one?”
“What a terrible pun! Anyway, I’m not a cop. Don’t you have to be a cop?”
“Apparently not. Have to be able to fix police cruiser cameras, though. From what I read, they want a college grad, up-to-date on photo equipment, who can ‘talk good’ in court. I’ll send you a link.”
Georgia took the job. The being on call was crazy-making, but she liked the money. The girls stayed in an after school program until either their mother or aunt collected them. On Friday afternoons, because Georgia didn’t want to even go near the POPS, Gina drove them to their Dad’s and saw them safely into the lobby with Gervase. Early Monday mornings, she picked them up there. It was all kind of working out in a fractured sort of way.
“Do you even know our real names, Mrs. James?” Pansy asked, enjoying having someone other than her sister to talk with at bedtime.
“I guess I don’t dear. I mean, I thought Poppy and Pansy were your real names. What are they?”
“Don’t you want to guess first?” Poppy posed the question.
“Oh, she”ll never guess. Let’s just say.” insisted Pansy. “You’re the oldest, you go first.”
“Gina Penelope Mendel. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. James. May I introduce my younger sister? Mrs. James, this is Pamela Zoe Mendel.”
“Ivy Pearl James, and the pleasure is all mine. Your manners are very polished. How did you arrive at these nicknames?”
“Mom says it’s what we called each other when we were learning to talk. What are your twins’ names?”
“Max and Nate. I used to say their names together when I called them at the same time. ‘MaxyNate’. Now, what would we get if we did that with yours? Oh I’ve got it. ‘PopnPan’.” When the giggles subsided, Poppy wanted to know more.
“Who are you named after, Mrs. James? Such pretty names. Another Ivy or Pearl, like I’m named after my aunt?”
“Yes, my two grandmothers.”
“And your Mr. James?”
“Reginald Thomas. I called him R.T. My eldest son is named after him and his nickname is Reggie.”
“One time, Daddy made us sit with his girlfriend at a game and you’ll never guess what she did?”
“Well, I might have to know who she is to be able to guess that.”
“Kitty Doyle. She lives here too, you know.”
Twisting up the corner of her mouth into a guessing expression to hide her disappointment at this revelation, Mrs. James did make a guess. “She made fun of your names?” Astonished, Poppy was the first to speak.
“That was a really good guess! How did you know?”
“She seemed so pretty we thought that she would be nice to us.” Pansy added.
“Like Glinda.”
“Who’s Glinda?” They echoed, in twin speak.
“Glinda, the good witch of the south…from the Wizard of Oz….don’t mean to tell me you’ve never heard of the Wizard of Oz?”
“Umm, maybe a kids movie?”
She decided then and there to add a library outing to their list of activities. She had plenty of opportunity to read to them at bedtime and it sounded as if they had some catching up to do in the children’s section. There were two downtown branches, Central and East. Central was wonderful for browsing but it was hard to park and going out to plug the meters was annoying to a dedicated browser like herself. Part of the charm for her was losing track of time. She did miss that about her old home; the convenience of walking, or biking, or driving over to the library, with its free parking.
Anyway, she couldn’t very well have the girls biking downtown even if they had bikes there, and it was too far to walk, especially with a pile of books. She remembered the stacks of picture books her boys used to bring home. They would need both transport and sturdy book bags but no more than they could carry, was her rule. She would add a new rule; library materials stay at the POPS. The #15 bus would do nicely for getting to East, with a few steps at either end. There was free parking there but it was only a mile away. R.T. had always cautioned her about starting up a cold car and driving a short distance. “Metal on metal is very bad. Always remember: a car runs on fluids Ivy, on fluids.”