Olivia POV
The museum was the right place to be. Not just for Ken who asked to go, clearly within Ellis’s hearing, but Kevin too, who was fascinated by every display and studied them in depth. Actually, reading what was on the descriptions at the beginning of each, sometimes twice. It was easy to picture him in tweeds with a pipe, the gears in his head turning.
What startled me most was how much Hope seemed to enjoy it. The museum had something for every age including displays to stimulate baby brains.
Like her brother and her uncle, Hope delighted in solving little puzzles, giggling and bouncing every time. She was meant to be too young for concrete thinking, but don’t try to tell her that. If she had the vocabulary, she would probably argue the point beautifully.
The sum of our combined genealogy, they had clearly all gotten Peterson brains, but that only left me to ponder, with no small measure of distress, what they, at least Ken and Hope, might inherit from me.