All he needed to know was that sisters were not picked up from garden swings.

That meant Sonny could not just bring home a bunch of sisters. Ha! Take that. He had a sister, but Sonny did not.

“Sir, do you miss Crybaby Ollie?”

Doc flicked his forehead lightly. “All children cry. Don’t give my precious grandson nicknames. He’s so cute, he should be called Ollie cutie.”

Oliver was the apple of his eye.

“You still cry sometimes yourself, so no more calling him that.”

Rubbing his forehead, Laurence muttered, “But Oliver is the biggest crier. Was I like that as a baby? Probably not. Mommy Jane says I was very well-behaved and that the moment I saw her, I clung to her and called her ‘Mommy.’”

She always said they were destined to meet.

“You’re still a child. What, you think you’re all grown up? You’re just a little four-year-old rascal. But honestly, I don’t know what you were like at Oliver’s age.”

Jane had found Laurence when he had just learned to walk, his speech still babyish. H