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“Are you here on business?” asked Rick, with a sly look at Gibson.
“Actually, I am. In fact, I’m sort of in the same line of work Mickey is. Asset recovery.”
“And the kids?” asked Gibson. “Francine wanted to say hello.”
“Naptime is just about over,” said her mother.
Gibson led Francine upstairs and into her kids’ room.
Tommy’s eyes were open and he was looking sleepily around.
Darby’s eyes were still closed. Her thumb was in her mouth, and her other hand was clenched around her favorite stuffed animal, a Winnie the Pooh that had been so “loved” its button nose had worn off.
Francine knelt down next to Tommy and held out her hand. “Hi, Tommy, I’m Francine.”
Tommy glanced up at his mom, who nodded. Tommy put out his hand and the two shook.
“Hi,” he said in a small, uncertain voice.
“Did you have a good nap?”
He nodded.
“You look very strong. I bet you can throw a ball pretty far.”
He smiled and nodded.
“What’s that, I wonder?” said Francine. She reached behind his head and pulled out a Nerf ball and held it up.
Tommy’s eyes popped out as she handed it to him. “Okay, give it a whirl.” She backed up and squatted down like a catcher.
Tommy sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looked at his mom, who nodded encouragingly, and got to his feet.
He wound up and threw the ball to Francine, who caught it and then shook her hand, pretended it was stinging. “Wow, you really can throw.”
She tossed it back to a beaming Tommy, who neatly caught it.
“Who you?”
They all looked up to see Darby awake and staring at Francine.
She rose, went over to Darby, and knelt down. “I’m Francine. And you’re Darby, right?”
She nodded, her thumb back in her mouth.
“I had a Winnie the Pooh just like that one, and you know what?”
“What?” mumbled Darby.
“He lost his nose, too.” Francine laughed and Darby looked at her Pooh and giggled.
Darby took her thumb out and said, “Pooh can’t schmell.”
“That’s okay. He can still see and hear, right?”
Darby nodded energetically.
“And he won’t have to smell stinky things.”
