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Stone. 
He won’t admit it, but he’s lonely living in this big house by himself.”
    “Why are you here today, Martha?”  Claire asked curiously. 
“I didn’t think you worked on the weekends.”
    “Normally I don’t but I offered to stop in and make lunch
today.  Mostly so I could congratulate you and meet your Hattie,” Martha said.
    Martha crouched down and held her hand out.  “Hello,
Hattie.  My name is Mrs. Crane.”
    “Hello, Mrs. Crane,” Hattie said politely before shaking her
hand.
    “My, you’re as pretty as your mama said you were,” Martha
said. 
    “Thank you.  I like the colour of your hair,” Hattie
replied.
    Martha laughed and patted at the graying strands.  “Thank
you, sweetheart.  Now,” she stood up and turned toward the counter.  “I’ve
already set the table in the formal dining room and I’m just about to start
dishing out the food.  Claire, I hope you like sushi.”
    “I love it,” Claire said.
    “Oh good,” Martha replied.  “It’s Mr. Stone’s favourite and
I make it quite often.  Why, he even sent me on a few courses specifically to
learn how to make it.  It took me a while to get the hang of it, but I’m pretty
good now.”
    “Mrs. Crane, I don’t like sushi,” Hattie said anxiously.
    “You’ve never had sushi, Hattie.  You have to at least try
it before you can say you don’t like it,” Claire said.
    “I’m not eating raw fish,” Hattie backed up, alarm crossing
her face.  “I won’t, mama.  You can’t make me.”
    “Oh sweetheart, don’t you worry.  I know a thing or two about
kids and I’ve got a special surprise for you,” Martha said.
    “You do?”  Hattie said.
    “Yes.” Martha smiled at her.  “A little bird told me that
you like chicken nuggets.”
    “I do like chicken nuggets,” Hattie said excitedly.
    “Well, you run off to the dining room with your mom and I’ll
bring in your surprise,” Martha said.
    Hattie grabbed Claire’s hand and began to yank her from the
kitchen.  “C’mon, mama!”
    Claire mouthed the word ‘thank you’ to Martha and followed
Hattie out of the kitchen.
    * * *
     
    “It’s rude to read at the table.”
    “Hattie, hush,” Claire said.
    “What?”  Hattie popped a nugget into her mouth and chewed
noisily.  “You said I’m not allowed to read my books at the table because it’s
rude.”
    She stared at Deacon who was scrolling through his phone
while they ate lunch.
    “I’m working,” Deacon said.
    “During lunch?”  Hattie asked.
    “Yes, I’m very busy, Hattie,” he replied.
    “With making toys?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you like making toys?”
    Deacon sighed and looked up from his phone.  “Yes, I do.”
    “How many toys have you made?”
    “Honey, Deacon doesn’t make the toys himself,” Claire said.
    “You don’t?”  Hattie asked.
    “No,” Deacon replied.  “I’m in charge of the people who make
the toys.”
    “Oh.”  Hattie dipped a nugget into the plum sauce on her
plate as Claire pointed to the raw slices of carrots.
    “Eat some of the carrots as well please, Hattie.”
    “So what do you do then?”  Hattie asked Deacon.
    He was looking at his phone again and he gave her an
impatient look.  “What do you mean?”
    “What do you do?”  Hattie repeated.
    “Well, I have meetings and I make important decisions,”
Deacon said.
    “Like what?”
    “Like what new toys to make and how many of them.  What
stores we distribute the toys to, and how often,” Deacon said. 
    “Oh.  Do you fire people like that lady fired mama?”
    “Sometimes,” Deacon replied.
    “When they break the toys?”
    “Maybe,” Deacon said distractedly.  His phone buzzed loudly
and he stood.  “Excuse me.”
    He answered the phone and left the room.  Hattie stared at
Claire.  “Do you love Mr. Stone, mama?”
    “Yes, honey.  I told you that on Friday, remember?”  Claire
tamped down her guilt for lying to Hattie.
    “Why do you love him?”
    “Well,