The girl, Janice I think it is, stares over Robby's head, refusing to
look at the turtle he's drawn.
I glance at my wife, who pretends not to notice. She's still saying
goodbye to Janice's mom, like we don't live two blocks away.
I take Robby's hand. "Time to go." I pull hard. He leaves the picture
on Janice's little table.
As we walk to the car, I'm playing out the drive home. I'll say the
girl's a real piece of work. My wife will say leave her alone. If I
make a snide comment, she'll say Robby better start getting used to
things now. She'll say it like he isn't even there.