Page 95 of Big Bad Wolfe

“Nope, what?”

“Luke warm.”

“Good one!” Casey roared in laughter, pulling Zane’s ears.

“Watch it!” He swung Casey down and tickled him. “Be nice to your tauntaun, or else he might eat you up!”

As Casey dissolved into a giggling pile on the floor, the doorbell rang.

Zane went to the front door and opened it to see Danielle on the porch, flanked by two blond, freckle-covered little boys in swim trunks and T-shirts, one boy slightly taller than the other. “Hi, Mr. Wolfe,” Danielle said. “I have to leave Robbie and Donnie here for a while.” She spun and jogged down the walkway.

Zane flung the door wider. “Wait! They can’t stay—!”

“Sure they can, they play with Casey all the time.” Danielle climbed into a car idling at the curb filled with a group of giggling teenage girls. “Bye.”

The car roared away, leaving Zane shell-shocked in the doorway. Two identical pairs of curious blue eyes stared up at him. “Hi, Mister,” the tallest boy said. “Where’s Casey?”

Before he could answer, Casey ran into the room. “Robbie! Donnie! Yippee!”

Robbie and Donnie raced past Zane, and all three boys chased around the living room, shrieking like air raid sirens. A ceramic vase of daisies went airborne, soaking the sofa cushion. The vase bounced off the cushion and hit the rug, where it cracked into pieces.

“Freeze!” Zane yelled.

Abrupt silence descended. Three small, surprised faces turned toward him.

With effort, he lowered his voice. “Casey, take Donnie and Robbie to the kitchen and … uh … make yourselves some peanut butter sandwiches while I clean this up.”

“‘Kay. C’mon, guys.”

The trio tromped toward the kitchen. “Who is that?” Donnie asked in a stage whisper.

“Zane. He’s my friend.”

“Is he always crabby?”

“Nah,” Casey replied. “He’s just a rookie. But he’s learning real good. He even put me in timeout.”

Zane blotted as much water as possible from the sofa cushion with a towel. He threw away the pieces of broken vase, and concerned about small bare feet, vacuumed the remaining shards. He was returning the vacuum to the utility closet when Casey’s piercing scream echoed through the house.

Pulse racing, Zane tore into the kitchen.

Casey stood by the sink, sobbing hysterically, one hand clamped to his mouth.

Zane’s stomach dropped as he knelt in front of the child and pried Casey’s hand away, searching for an injury. No blood, always a good sign.

“Whoa, take it easy.” He drew the crying child into his embrace. “What happened?”

“I—” Casey wailed. “I swallowed my tooth! Now the Tooth Fairy won’t be able to find it!”

For the second time that day, a wave of relief crashed over him. He closed his eyes briefly, opened them again. “It’s okay. We can...” What could he do to make the child feel better?

Inspiration struck. “We’ll write her a note, and explain what happened.” He grabbed a blank sheet off the grocery list pad and the magnetic pencil. He glanced at Robbie and Donnie, huddling nervously near the table. “Can you guys handle the sandwiches for a few minutes?”

“Sure,” Donnie nodded. “We for sure can do that.”

Zane carried Casey into the living room and sat at the dry end of the sofa with the child on his lap.

Casey’s sobs were already subsiding. He blinked, hiccupped, and looked sorrowfully at Zane. “I can’t write a note. I just can print my name.”

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