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infinity.”
    â€œInfinity?” Neally said. “I don’t think you’re using that correctly. We could look it up.”
    â€œI love that word,” Quinn said.
    â€œI’m sure infinity means something that never ends, so you wouldn’t use it for a ...”
    Neally’s father shook his head.
    â€œSorry.” Neally looked down at her plate, trying to hide her guilty smile.
    â€œMuffins were my culinary adventure project last winter,” Mr. Standers said. “My New Year’s resolution was to make a different batch every week. Neally started calling me the Muffin Man.”
    â€œMy mom refuses to make New Year’s resolutions,” Quinn said. “Dad says that’s because the one time she made a resolution she later changed her mind, but she’d already told people what she was going to do and so of course they bugged her about it. I don’t know why someone would promise to give up something they love that isn’t bad for them, like chocolate.”
    â€œSo, your mom couldn’t swear off the candy bars?” Mr. Standers chuckled. “I don’t blame her. But resolutions don’t have to be about giving things up. They can be things you vow to start doing, or things you decide to do better. For example, you might resolve to eat healthier or get more exercise.”
    â€œThose are typical, boring, adult resolutions,” Neally sniffed. “And then there’s my New Year’s resolution. You know what that is, Dad.”
    â€œNo, can’t say I do. Care to refresh my memory?”
    â€œIt’s to figure out how to stop bone density loss in astronauts.”
    Mr. Standers placed his hands on his stomach andlaughed heartily. “During Christmas break we watched a lot of videos,” he said to Quinn. “The first one was a documentary on the Apollo program. Ruthanne, Neally’s mother, decided our holiday video theme should be space travel. We rented everything we could about the subject, and had some interesting discussions about the problems humans face in long-term weightless environments.”
    â€œYeah, I get it,” Quinn said nonchalantly. What he got was that Neally’s resolution wasn’t a wacko statement out of the blue, and that his own half-hearted promise to help his sister clean out her rat’s cage every Saturday seemed insignificant by comparison.
    â€œQuinn, eh?” Mr. Standers turned his chair backwards and sat facing the kitchen table, his legs straddling either side of the chair’s back. “That’s a great name. The Mighty Quinn .”
    Quinn stared blankly at Neally’s father.
    â€œYou’ve never heard that?” Mr. Standers hummed a tune that was unfamiliar to Quinn.
    Neally groaned, burying her face in her hands. “All oldies, all the time ... you’ve got to find another radio station, Dad.”
    Mr. Standers grinned at his daughter and continued to hum.
    â€œOh, that one,” Neally said. “I recognize the tune, but what’s it about?”

    Mr. Standers shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a song from the sixties, so who knows?”
    â€œThe Mighty Quinn,” Neally said slowly. “That’s way cool.”
    â€œThat’s way not true ,” Quinn muttered. “Could you please not say it in class or anything?”
    â€œSo, Neally” Mr. Standers said, “you wanted to know about the Three Musketeers?”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œThe ESL students in our class: Arturo, Janos, and Lily,” Quinn said. “The kids started calling them that because the three of them are always together, but no one ever says it in front of the teachers.” He grinned at Neally’s father. “How’d you know that name?”
    â€œI didn’t, but your teacher did.” Mr. Standers ran his fingers through his beard and lowered his voice. “It’sscary sometimes, to think of what the grownups are