Separate names with a comma.
"You seem to be handling it well."
"You don't have to do that."
"Very intuitive. Come on, I want you to see your present."
"I'm not worried. Are you?"
"No, it's alright," she said, shaking her head. "It's alright. I wasn't sleeping well anyway."
She kissed his jaw, her hand on his chest. "It's Christmas!"
"That's great. And who knows? Maybe the doctors will figure it out."
She woke up suddenly, looking up at him with wide eyes before relaxing. "Hey. You're up."
She kissed his neck, her hand on his jaw. "Gabe, love, wake up."
"Not at all."
He would find her in the nursery, asleep in the rocking chair with James in her arms.
She shifted in her sleep, her eyes fluttering open before she grinned, sitting up. "Gabe..." she sang playfully, leaning down to kiss a line on...
"God, Avice, it's not your fault."
Poppy wasn't in the room.
Petra was asleep in the bed, her face in Gabe's chest.
"Huh."
"Seven," she said smoothly, reaching out affectionately and rubbing his head.
(Yoop!)
(Zoop to Christmas?)
"I generally wore a cloak. Do I still?"
