Mary rocked back and forth in her rocking chair by the nursery window with Sybbie on her lap, coaxing her to sleep.
"Please, darling, close your sweet eyes…" she crooned in a rather un-Mary way.
Sybbie continued to bounce excitedly, disturbing the peaceful atmosphere with a shriek. "But Mama, Gampa said he would put me to bed!"
Mary winced, her cheeks paling as she glanced across the room at Tom's tense face as he covered a sleeping George's ears.
"Can't you say 'Mary', Sybbie? Say it, 'Ma-ree'. And Grandpapa is a bit silly and forgetful sometimes."
Little curls shook as Sybbie crossed her arms stubbornly. "Mama. And Gampa promised!" she wailed.
Tom set George down in his cradle and walked over to his daughter, kneeling at Mary's feet to peer into Sybbie's eyes as he stroked a comforting hand over the crinkled fabric at Mary's knee.
"Well I'm afraid your Grandpapa is a bit of a… what shall we call him?" He winked teasingly up at Mary. "He's a donk. Remember how silly he was when you played pin the tail on the donkey?"
Sybbie nodded solemnly, and Mary stifled a giggle.
"Well, that's the same sort of silly he's being now, but in a grown-up sort of way. Grown-up sometimes forget important things, and when they do, we call them a grown-up word for donkey."
"Grown-up w-word?" Sybbie looked up curiously.
"Yes." Tom's mouth twitched. "Your grandpapa can be a bit of an a-"
"Tom!" Mary interjected, reaching over Sybbie's head to pinch his mouth closed. "Don't you dare!" She glared at him sternly.
Tom lifted her hand from his mouth. "Alright, alright." He patted her leg comfortingly, then whispered, "It's true, though."
Mary hmm'd quietly in quasi-agreement. "Sybbie can find that out for herself, though. As for now, 'donk' is entirely more appropriate."
"App-app-riate?" Sybbie pouted. "I want grown-up word!"
"And 'donk' is a very grown-up word." Tom said earnestly. Mary barely suppressed a snort and he sent her a mock-glare. "Actually, why don't you just call Grandpapa 'donk' from now on?"
Mary gasped. "Tom! He'd be scandalized!"
"He deserves it for reneging on his promise to little Sybbie. And besides, it's amusing. How about it, Sybbie?" he tapped his daughter's nose. "Grandpapa is now your donk, and Mary is your Mama." his gaze softened as he glanced up at a frozen Mary.
"Yes, Papa. I'll sleep now." Sybbie yawned, and slid down from Mary's arms to be put in her crib.
After they were sure she was asleep, Mary and Tom slipped out into the hall.
"Mama. Really, Tom?" Mary's eyes searched his in wonder.
"Yes. She adores you, and you're already her godmother. Humor her. I don't mind."
"Very well then, as long as you're not uncomfortable. But as for 'donk'…"
He attempted to reassure her. "It'll be our little secret. She probably won't even remember in the morning."
"Fine. Goodnight, Tom." her hand trailed across his shoulder, and they parted ways.
It was too late for Grandpapa, however. His attempt at a make up play-date the next afternoon alerted him to the nickname, and Sybbie didn't stop using it the entirety of the day. Or the next.
Tom's victorious smirks frustrated Mary at first, but as the days went by and turned into months, she began to appreciate 'Mama' and 'donk', and eventually she shared the amused grins with Tom, the inside joke just between the two of them and their little angel.