"Can I have a story, Mommy?" Henrietta asked, peeking her eyes out from under the blankets.

Olivia stopped and spun slowly in her doorway. "One," she told her sternly but with a smile, "Then bed."

"'Kay."

Olivia walked back to her daughter's bed and sat on the edge until the small child clambered into her lap and she shifter further in. "Which one?"

Etta peered over at the pile of books beside her bed. "Um…" she pushed a few from the top of the stack until she saw one she wanted. "This one!" she cried.

The book was white with a few stripes of color and a small person in the lower corner; the title scrawled across the cover in large print.

Olivia flipped a couple pages until she found the beginning. She took a deep but quiet breath.

"Congratulations! Today is your day! You're off to Great Places! You're off and away!"

"You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes," Peter's voice echoed from the doorway, where he was propped up against the jamb. "You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And you are they guy who'll decide where to go." He was grinning and Olivia's heart fluttered.

Etta patted the bed next to her for him to come sit, and he propped himself up on an arm at the end of the small mattress.

Olivia continued, "You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care. About some you will say, 'I don't choose to go there.' With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet, you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street."

"And you may not find any you'll want to go down. In that case, of course, you'll head straight out of town," Peter added. His smile was still there but didn't quite reach his eyes.

She kept his gaze as she spoke, "It's opener there in the wide open air."

"Out there things happen and frequently do," he paused, letting the smile fall incrementally before coming back full force, "to people as brainy and footsy as you." He tickled Etta's feet beneath her blankets and she giggled and squirmed.

Olivia watched before turning back to the book. "And when things start to happen, don't worry. Don't stew. Just go right along. You'll start happening too."

She had only to turn the page before Etta threw up her little arms and yelled, "OH! THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!"

Peter laughed quietly at their daughter and Olivia smiled. "You'll be on your way up! You'll be seeing great sights! You'll join the high fliers who soar to great heights." She paused, waiting for Peter to pick it up, but he nods at her to continue. "You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed. You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead. Wherever you fly, you'll be best of the best. Wherever you go, you will top all the rest."

She turned and placed a kiss in her daughter's hair as Peter whispered the words on the next page: "Except when you don't. Because, sometimes, you won't."

"I'm sorry to say so but, sadly, it's true," Olivia continued, "that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you. You can get all hung up in a prickle-ly perch," she poked at Etta's sides, earning a ringing laugh. "And your gang will fly on. You'll be left in a Lurch."

Peter was obviously thinking on something else, so she read on. "You'll come down from the Lurch with an unpleasant bump," she bounced Etta in her lap, "And chances are, then, that you'll be in a Slump. And when you're in a Slump, you're not in for much fun. Un-Slumping yourself is not easily done."

Peter finally spoke, before she could flip the page. "You will come to a place where the streets are not marked. Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked. A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin. Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?" He paused, swallowing hard. "How much can you lose? How much can you win?"

Olivia didn't think of stopping him, but it was sounding less and less like a children's story anymore. Etta didn't seem to mind, engrossed in her father's words. "And if you go in, should you turn left or right? Or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite? Or go around back and sneak in from behind? Simple, it's not, I'm afraid you will find, for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind. You can get so confused that you'll start in to race down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space, headed, I fear, for a most useless place."

"The Waiting Place…" they all said together.

"…for people just waiting. Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go."

"Or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow," Olivia cut in.

Peter caught her gaze and smirked, "or waiting around for a Yes or No."

Olivia smiled, "or waiting for their hair to grow. Everyone is just waiting."

Etta ran a hand over the picture.

"Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite," Olivia read.

"Or waiting around for Friday night," Peter added quietly.

"Or waiting, perhaps, for their uncle Jake, or a pot to boil—"

"—or a Better Break—"

"—or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants, or a wig with curls—"

"—or Another Chance," Peter whispered.

"Everyone is just waiting," Olivia finishes, sighing. Her and Peter exchange a look before she turns the page.

"NO!" she says with Etta, "That's not for you!" She glances at Peter, "Somehow you'll escape all that waiting and staying."

Something changes in his face, but it's gone in seconds.

"You'll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing. With banner flip-flapping, once more you'll ride high! Ready for anything under the sky. Ready because you're that kind of guy."

Olivia watches Peter watch her, but she also watches how these seemingly meaningless words take root in his head. She's not quick enough, however, because her daughter flips the next page in the book.

She raises her voice slightly, trying to lighten the mood, "Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done! There are points to be scored. There are games to be won. And the magical things you can do with that ball will make you the winning-est winner of all. Fame!" she says, Etta echoing her. "You'll be famous as famous can be, with the whole wide world watching you win on TV."

Though his voice and face have softened, Olivia can still see a darkness in his eyes. "Except when they don't. Because, sometimes, they won't. I'm afraid that some times you'll play lonely games too. Games you can't win 'cause you'll play against you."

Olivia glances at their little girl, and her brow is furrowed in thought. She looks like her father when she does that.

When she sees the words on the next pages, her heart drops. "All Alone," she whispers. "Whether you like it or not, Alone will be something you'll be quite a lot. And when you're alone, there's a very good chance you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants." She stops, feeling Etta tremble slightly in her grip. She squeezes her daughter and Peter reaches forward, tickling her feet again. "There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won't want to go on," she whispers.

And she doesn't. Olivia stops reading, having lost her voice. She closes her eyes and kisses Etta's hair again, feeling Peter's firm squeeze on her calf.

His voice breaks her out of her reverie, and he sounds more reassuring than he probably feels. "But on you will go though the weather be foul. On you will go though your enemies prowl. On you will go though the Hakken-Kraks howl. Onward up many a frightening creek, though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak."

His voice changes from reassuring to playful, then again to soft and serious. "On and on you will hike. And I know you'll hike far and face up to your problems, whatever they are. You'll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You'll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go."

Olivia feels his hand squeeze her leg and finds his eyes on her. When he speaks, he speaks to her. "So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that Life's a Great Balancing Act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft." He looks to Etta and smiles, grabbing her feet. "And never mix up your right foot with your left."

She giggles.

His voice is booming, now, as he raises himself up on his knees and throws his arms out. "And will you succeed? Yes! You will indeed!" He leans in and stage-whispers, "98 and ¾ percent guaranteed."

Then he's standing, pulling Etta into his arms and onto his waist and screaming, "KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!" while she giggles uncontrollably.

Olivia smiles at them and stands from the bed. "So…"

Peter tucks Etta under her covers as she sing-songs, "be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray, or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea…"

Olivia leans in and kisses her forehead. "You're off to Great Places! Today is your day!"

Peter also plants a kiss in her hair and another on her cheek, tickling her with his stubble. "Your mountain is waiting," he whispers, "So…get on your way!"

Etta nods to her father and her parents leave her bedroom, turning out the light. That night, she dreams of Great Places.

(A/N: Story is Oh, The Places You'll Go! by Dr. Seuss. I was reading it to a girl I was babysitting and just pictured this in my head. Honestly, this is almost exactly as the text appears in the book, just some changed punctuation to accommodate dialogue. Reviews?)