A door squeaked, and whispers caught her attention.“Ya think she’s dead?” “Don’t know. Should we poke her?”“No.” The whisper got louder. “Papa said let her rest, ‘cause she’s tired from her trip.”“She looks dead. If she’s dead, Papa would wanna know.”“No, see her top part? It’s goin’ up and down. That means she’s breathin’.”She opened her eyes slightly, peeking through her eyelashes. Two identical little boys, hand in hand, stood at the doorway. They both stared at her for a minute. “Ya think she makes good cookies?”“Yeah. All mamas do.”They both edged closer. “Maybe we should wake her up, so she can git started on some.”As one boy reached out to touch her, the other grabbed his arm. “No. Papa would be mad.”If she hadn’t been so tired she would probably have enjoyed the conversation. But with the sound of the twins banging into things as they tried to leave quietly, she fell back into a deep sleep.Saturdays being a half-day in his shop, Nate was home by dinnertime.
