Page 41 of Second Chance

She gives Tony a look. “I don’t go to school here,” she says with supreme dignity, and she’s right to. Tony should obviously have known better. “My mom is a professor.”

“Oh yeah? What does she teach?”

A little frown line creases on Francie’s forehead. “Sigh…” she tries. “No, puh-sigh… Something with Zebrafish.”

Lia fusses again when Tony tenses up.

“Zebrafish, huh?” he says, jostling the baby. “They sound pretty cool.”

Authoritatively, Francie nods. “They’re called that ’cause they have stripes. Like zebras. And their brains do stuff like human brains.”

It could be a coincidence. Probably lots of psychology professors do research with Zebrafish. It’s 5:00 p.m. on a Thursday, not the easiest time to get childcare. Maybe her parents brought her today because she met Amelia Lawrence too.

Except, she said only her dad was there. And she said her mom was the professor of the two of them.

Tony sets Lia down. Her nap time has been and gone. Gianna was supposed to get out in time so she could nap in the car, but at this time of day, a nap will mess up her bedtime. If her fussing over the last half hour is any indication, she’s close to meltdown. Tony offers her the pacifier to tide her over.

“What’s that?” Francie points at the string of beads it’s connected to.

“That’s her pacifier. We keep one for her in the stroller so she always has it when she needs it.”

Francie comes a little closer and peers over the top of the stroller to watch Lia suck at the pacifier. “Where’s her mommy?”

“Her mom is my sister. She’s inside. She wanted to go to the memorial. She’ll be out any minute.”

Francie doesn’t look away from Lia. There’s something unnerving about how steady her focus is. “They’re talking about my mommy in there.”

“Mm-hm.” Tony doesn’t know what else to say. He doesn’t want to reach out and touch Francie. It seems too familiar for a little girl he doesn’t know. At the same time, her being out here alone feels very wrong.

Francie turns to look at him. “Why are they talking about her like she’s not here?”

Panic grips Tony, tightening around his throat. “What do you mean, sweetie?”

“Daddy said she wasn’t coming home yesterday, but he didn’t saywhenshe would. And everyone keeps talking about her like she won’t come back to work, but sheloveswork.”

This is not a situation Tony is even slightly equipped to handle.

Thankfully, the door swings open again, this time on a disheveled, unshaven man in his mid-thirties.

“Francie, there you are.” The man runs a hand through his thick, dark hair. Francie must get it from him. “You can’t run off, querida.”

“I told you I was going outside.” Francie pouts. “I don’t like it when you get loud, Daddy.”

The man winces. His tie is a little crooked, and the suit doesn’t fit him too well. He must have gained a little weight since he bought it. There are deep circles under his dark eyes.

“You must be Francie’s dad.” Tony holds out his hand to shake. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks.” The man who must be Mr. Lawrence attempts a smile. “Sorry about her.”

“No, she’s been great. Clever kid.”

Mr. Lawrence’s grimace of a smile becomes marginally more real. “Don’t I know it. Hey, kiddo, you want your book until Dad’s ready to go?”

Francie nods and holds out her hand.

From the inside of his suit jacket, Mr. Lawrence produces aMagic Tree Housebook. Francie grabs hold of it, sits on the steps, and immediately opens to somewhere in the middle. The font is enormous; Tony should have gotten his prescription checked six months ago, and he can read it over her shoulder.

With a sigh, Mr. Lawrence leans against the side of the building. He loosens his tie. It doesn’t help his generally disheveled appearance. “Sorry,” he says to Tony. “We’ll leave in a second. I just need—I need…”

---