"Something's wrong with Francie," a worried Finn said to his mother after school.

"How do you know, baby boy?" she asked without looking up from her laptop. "Did you hear something at school?"

"She's in her room," he explained.

"She's what?" Daisy looked up. It was barely 3:30, Francie should be at school, just hitting the pool. Francie never missed swim practice.

Finn nodded, green eyes huge. "And she's, um, she's--" he grew silent, flummoxed by his lack of vocabulary. "She's dark," he finally tried.

"Dark?" Daisy repeated, setting her laptop aside and rising as she held her hand out to her youngest.

"Yeah," he said, slipping his hand into his mother's as they walked down the hall toward Francie and Clio's room. "You know how she's usually all bright and sunshiny? Well, today she's like a cloudy day, like before a thunderstorm, you know?"

"Oh, I see," Daisy responded with a smile. She knocked on the door before opening it. "Francie?" she called.

The pile of covers on Francie's bed moved, and Francie's puffy face appeared. "Yeah?"

Daisy turned to Finn asked him to bring her a "wet but not dripping" washcloth, and turned to her second born as Finn scampered to do her bidding.

"What on earth is the matter, love? You skipped swim practice?"

"Mom, I just had the worst day of my life," Francie began, sitting up and holding her arms out to her mother as her face twisted into tears.

Daisy sat on the edge of the bed and took Francie into her arms as Finn returned with the washcloth, Della on his heels to see what the scurrying was all about.

"Francie, are you crying?" he asked, patting her arm. "Are you hurt?"

"No, Finn, not like that," Francie assured him as Daisy wiped her face with the cool cloth. "Something bad happened at school, that's all, and I'm sad."

"I'm sorry," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "I'll draw you a picture, will that help?" he asked solicitously.

"Yeah, that would be great," Francie said, nodding at her brother, who tore off, presumably to start on the picture right away.

Francie and Daisy smiled after him before turning back to each other.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Daisy asked, smoothing Francie's hair off her forehead.

"There's a rumor going around school that I'm only dating Chester out of pity, because I feel sorry for him," Francie began. "I think Tony started it. He called here to ask me about it, and he took that conversation, and a couple others we had, and edited them to make it sound like I said that's what I was doing, anyway, and uploaded it to the internet, and Chester heard it at lunch today." Francie started crying. "And now I think he believes it, and he won't talk to me or anything, Mom! He just got up and walked away, and I haven't heard from him since!"

She buried her face in her mother's front and proceeded to weep, as they all did when they were upset, though Francie did it much less than her other children. Francie usually bounced through life like a happy balloon, so this was really unusual for her, Daisy reflected as she stroked her daughter's hair and kissed her.

"I can call the school and make him take the recording down, that's one thing," Daisy offered. "I can ask for Tony to be punished for making it also, especially if you have proof that he altered what you said? Do you?"

Francie shook her head. "I didn't record what I said, so it would only be my word against his, I guess," she said.

"Well, your word should count for something," Daisy replied. "You and your sisters and brother have been students at that school forever, and you've never been in any trouble, have you? Character should matter."

"I don't know, Mom, I don't know if I want you to get involved," Francie went on. "I think I should handle this myself, you know? I don't want to be the girl who had her parents fight her battles for her."

"Well, that's very noble, but there's a reason you're still a legal minor, you know," Daisy countered. "You're still my responsibility for a few more years because you're supposed to be, you get that, right?"

Francie nodded into her mother's bosom, but didn't say anything.

"I just can't believe that Tony could do anything so mean," she said softly. "He just didn't understand that I could choose Chester over him, you know?" She lifted her head and looked at her mother with the same eyes Daisy remembered from when Francie was a toddler, when she cried over Pete's leaving them to go on tour. "You understand, though, right Mom? Why I'd choose Chester over Tony?"

"I do," Daisy assured her. Chester had played the cello for them a few days ago, and Daisy had seen the way Francie looked at him as he wielded his bow. "Chester has magic in him, in his eyes, his smile, even his hair, the way he flicks it back when he looks at you, love--"

"Hey, I'm the one who's supposed to like him, not you," Francie teased, giving her mother a little shake. "He's too young for you, anyway."

"Tony is certainly good looking, but he's like a really slick, nice looking pair of shoes, isn't he?" Daisy mused, releasing her daughter. "Nice to look at, maybe even nice to try on, but you'd never, ever wear them or buy them, would you? They'd pinch and hurt like a motherfucker, and you'd regret the day you bought them for the rest of your life."

Francie looked at her mother in wonder. "Exactly, Mom. Wow."

"Here you go, here you go, sorella mia," Finn declared as he raced back into the room holding a colorful picture aloft. "See? Here's you, sitting in Daddy's garden, and here's me, picking you some verdure, some vegetables, to make you a nice insalata for dinner, and there's Chester playing his cello for you to make you extra happy!" He handed her the picture. "Oh, and there's Fuma and Chicca, our kitties from Archie, and Della, of course, sitting by Chester, enjoying his music, too, see?"

"Wow, Finnie, this is really good, especially considering how fast you did it," Francie praised, looking closely at his artwork. And it was. The outdoor patio was drawn in depth, the aspects looked correct, and the vegetables and the people's clothing were bright and colorful. "Look, mom, how wonderful!"

"Finn, that's delightful," Daisy agreed.

"Look, buddy, I'm going to pin it right here, on my wall, so I can see it every day, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed. "I'm glad you like it.

"Mommy, can I have a peach before dinner?" he asked. "I'm hungry."

"Of course, love, let's go," Daisy said with a laugh, rising from Francie's bed. "You feel better?" she asked her daughter.

Francie nodded. "I still have to figure out what to do, though."

Daisy had just settled down again with her laptop when Francie came out, headed toward the foyer.

"Are Brina and Lottie home yet?" she asked her mother.

Daisy shook her head. "Still at orchestra."

"I'm going to Chester's to try to talk to him," she explained. "I'll be home by dinner, okay?"

"Okay. Did you text him?"

Francie nodded. "No response. That's why I'm going in person. I don't think he'll actually throw me out of his apartment , you know?"

Daisy gave her a sympathetic smile. "Good luck."

Francie walked to Chester's, going over what she was going to say in her head. And surely, once he'd had time to think about it, he'd believe her? He couldn't possibly believe she'd actually said those things?

Like before, the doorman announced her and buzzed her up, and Francie felt butterflies of nervousness in her tummy as she whizzed up in the elevator, and forced herself to calm down and focus on what she wanted to say.

Chester's mother opened the door and let her in.

"Hello, Sharon," Francie began. "Is Chester here?"

"He is, but he doesn't want to see you," Sharon responded.

"He--what?" Francie swallowed and looked at Chester's mother, wondering if she'd misheard her.

"He doesn't want to see you," she repeated. "Surely you must understand that?"

"I--I don't know what to say," Francie stammered. "I came to talk to him, to try to make him understand--"

"I think he understands perfectly," Sharon, her emphasis on the verb making Francie uneasy. "Listen, Francie, this sort of thing has happened to him before, you have to understand, though never to this degree. Because of his disability, he's always been a target for mean-spirited people, for people who for whatever reason just want to hurt him." Sharon gathered her cardigan tighter around herself. "It would take a special kind of person, though, to hurt his heart like this."

"No! No, Ms. Wozniak, I didn't do this!" Francie protested. They were both still standing in the living room, as Francie hadn't been asked to sit, she just realized. "It's a mistake, Tony, the boy from school, altered the tape to make it sound like I said those thing, honest!"

"Chester's father and I did wonder what a girl like you would see in our son," Sharon continued. "You're so pretty, so vivacious and popular. We know who you are, who your father is, who your sister is, of course. We were hopeful that you saw in him what we did, that you saw past the crutches to who he really is."

"I did! I do," Francie said. "I really, really like Chester, Ms. Wozniak, you have to believe me."

"Well, my son is in his room, and he's very upset, and he doesn't want to see you, so I have to respect his wishes," Sharon said in a sad, disappointed voice. "I've never seen him like this. I'm not going to say I know the truth of the matter, because obviously I don't, but it didn't make sense, you must admit, that a girl like you would fall for a boy like Chester."

"Why not?" Francie asked. "He's smart, he's funny, he has a beautiful smile, gorgeous eyes, he's so self confident, he makes me feel beautiful when I'm with him--what girl wouldn't want those things?" Francie took a step closer to the older woman. "Please, Ms. Wozniak, it's not fair that you raise him to be those things and to have those things and then to undermine him by reinforcing his insecurities like this! Why wouldn't I like Chester? Why wouldn't I love Chester?"

"I know you were seeing that other boy first, though," Sharon said uncertainly. "The tall one, the swimmer from South America? This is just the sort of unkind thing popular kids like you would cook up to hurt our boy, and he's already been hurt so much. He's been so strong, all his life, just laughing it off and keeping his head up, he shouldn't have to suffer so much, it's just not fair."

"Please let me talk to him," Francie begged.

Sharon looked down the hall, then looked back at Francie. "No, I'm sorry. He doesn't want to see you, and I'm not going to force him. He knows what he wants, he knows what's best for himself."

"And friends like Jill Wyler? That's who's best for him?" Francie couldn't help asking.

"Jill's been a wonderful friend to him," Sharon answered sharply. "And she'd never, ever hurt him like this."

"Jill wants to cocoon him in bubble wrap and keep him for herself," Francie retorted.

"And what's wrong with that? As long as he's safe--"

"That's not living, though, is it?" Francie asked softly.

"Francie, I think you'd better go," Sharon said, apology in her voice.

"Please tell him I came by, okay?"

Ms. Wozniak didn't reply, but merely held the door for her, closing it firmly behind her.