As I tuck the boys into their beds, the television in their room set to stream a Disney Channel show for the next couple of hours, I hear the phone in my closet ring.
“Do you have another secret call, Mama?” Ian asks, his eyes fastened to the screen as he asks.
“What?”
“Your secret phone,” Alvin says, absently tossing popcorn into his mouth as he watches the bright colors, “the one in your closet.”
“How…” The boys, sensing a problem, both look at me at once. I sigh. Genius twins, Evelyn, remember? I don’t know why I thought I could keep anything from them.
The phone continues to ring.
“I have to go take that call, boys, but it’s for work. I want you to keep away from the secret phone, okay? It’s secret for a reason. It’s our secret. So don’t tell anyone, not even Edgar or Daddy or
