“Mommy, when are we gonna see Dr. Darrell again?”
Beau looked at her daughter. Flora lay on the floor of her bedroom with crayons spewed all around her and a colorful drawing before her. She drew a smile on the circular face of a stick man in a doctor’s coat. Holding the stick-fingered hand of the stick doctor was a little girl with bows and a pink dress. Flora was drawing the fifth finger of a woman with long black hair and gray eyes. Beau’s eyes teared at the imaginary family on the paper.
“I really liked dating Dr. Darrell,” Flora said, as she finished connecting the hands of the stick-Flora to the stick-Beau. “I miss him.”
Beau picked up the drawing and stared. She traced a finger down the line of the stick doctor’s hands. She closed her eyes and imagined those hands embracing her,
