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“All right, Immy, shh,” Jenner told her, bouncing her up and down slightly. Which was not a good idea as she was starting to feel kind of ill.

“You’re feeling ill?” Sampson asked, alarmed. “Have you guys called Eric?”

“I think we should give her the cold medicine first,” Abe said. “Then if she starts to feel worse or doesn’t improve, we call Eric.”

“I side with Abe! He knows what he’s talking about. Abe is very sensisibible . . . is that the right word? I think it’s the right word. It feels like the right word. Jenny?”

“Yeah, baby?” Jenner asked.

“Oh, good, I thought you’d gone and left me. Don’t leave me, okay?”

“I’m not going to leave you, Immy.”

“I don’t wants to die alone.”

Silence fell in the room and she started to hum . . . because . . . awkward.

“Listen to me, Immy,” Jenner said firmly. “Are you listening?”

“Uh-huh.” She was also wondering if she added blue food coloring to mashed potatoes and put in little marshmallows would that look like unicorn poop?

Yummy scrummy unicorn poop.

“Why is Immy talking about unicorn poop?” Isaiah asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Issy!” she cried, throwing her arms into the air.

Jenner grunted and swore.

“Tut-tut. Those are naughty words, Jenny. Abby, Jenny, Issy and Sammy! My bestest friends in the whole world. Along with Maeve and Cat, of course.”

“How come Maeve and Cat don’t get ridiculous nicknames?” Sampson muttered.

Silly Sammy.

Always a grouch.

Sammy the grouch. Nope. Sammy the Salty.

There was a sound of amusement. “Sammy the Salty has a nice ring to it.”

“Shut up, Abby,” Sampson muttered.

“Abby the Angel,” she sighed.

“All of you be quiet,” Jenner said sharply. “I need to tell her something.”

“Jenny the Joyful. Jenny the Juicy.” She started to giggle.

“Dear God,” Isaiah groaned. “Do not do me.”

“Idiot,” Sampson told him.

“Issy the Igloo.”

“I’ll take it,” Isaiah said.

Jenner set her down on the counter and she started to whimper. “No! Want you!”