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wondered if he'd been handling dinnertime incorrectly. After all, he was fairly new to parenting and had decided to follow
the same rules and guidelines established by his parents. But the
book in his hands discouraged such old-fashioned child rearing
methods.
    "You should encourage a child's natural curiosity about foods
by providing a colorful plate. Shape their food until it looks fun
to eat! For example, you could create a vegetable pizza with a
face made of broccoli and mushrooms or use a cookie cutter to
encourage your kids to eat a heart-shaped tuna and sprout sandwich. Sometimes children don't like different foods to touch on
the plate. Try serving them meals in a Japanese-style divided box
or three, colorful bowls," one psychiatrist advised. "If a child still
resists sampling something on his plate, you should respect his
wishes and take the unappealing food away. Respect and dignity
are an integral part of the parent-child relationship."
    James chuckled ruefully. "I'd like to read that paragraph to Pop.
He'd uncap his pen and write this PhD a scathing letter about how
parents are meant to be benevolent dictators and kids are meant
to be polite and obedient, not the other way around. I can't even
imagine what he'd think about the recommendation to serve Eliot's dinner in a Japanese box!"
    In fact, Jackson had given James his own parenting advice a few
weeks ago. "You be sure to do the right thing by Eliot," his father had told him. "Don't be too soft. He won't grow into a man if you're a
lily-livered father. Draw the line and give him hell when he crosses
it. That's what makes a man. Not these long-winded reasons why
he can't do this or shouldn't do that. You say, `because I said so,' and
leave it at that. Worked for you and millions of kids before you."

    It had taken all Jackson's willpower to remain silent on his
grandson's decision to become a vegetarian. He merely shook his
head with wonder and gave James a look that said, "You'd better
nip this one in the bud."
    Jane had also been nonplussed by her son's determination to
change his diet. Once Eliot was asleep in James' house and she
had driven back to Harrisonburg, she and James had spoken on
the phone until late in the night and had decided not to act until
they'd each done some research on the nutritional effects of vegetarianism on such a young child.
    Tired as he was, James had been unable to fall asleep afterward
and so he perused the hypnotherapy brochure until he could practically recite the content verbatim.
    "At least I'm prepared for my afternoon session with Harmony," James murmured as he examined another parenting book.
"Because I'm not finding an ounce of practical advice on how to
handle this situation with Eliot."
    At the sound of someone clearing his throat, James pivoted to
his left and looked up. Scott Fitzgerald, one half of the well-liked
twin brother team working at the library, wore a solemn expression.
    "Good morning, Professor." Scott spoke in his "business hours"
whisper, though no patrons had entered the building yet.
    Francis Fitzgerald stepped around the corner of the stacks and
stood shoulder-to-shoulder next to his long and lanky brother. Running a hand through waves of untamed brown curls, he nodded a sedate hello. Silently, the twins exchanged worried glances
and then, as though they had rehearsed the movement in a mirror, each young man reached up to push his tortoise shell glasses
farther up the bridge of his nose. If their expressions hadn't been
so lugubrious, James would have found the synchronized gesture
amusing, but he recognized the signs of impending trouble in the
fidgety postures of his two employees.

    "Gentlemen. There appears to be a problem." He smiled at
the brothers, letting his fondness for them show through his eyes.
"We've tackled some tough challenges before, so let me know what
we're dealing with and we'll come up with a plan."
    Shoulders slumping slightly in