When they got home late that night, Frank debated taking a sick day because duties and everyday life ran him into the ground. He took the first shower because Alice offered it to him, and he didn't need to be told twice. They would have done this dance most days, passing it back and forth, Frank letting her win as a courtesy. He argued with his wife sometimes for the pure fun of it. Sometimes, actually, most of the time, Alice called him on his bluff as she went along with the game. They lived in a small two-bedroom flat in the heart of London. After he took shower, Frank climbed in bed and got lost in some work papers. Ten minutes later, Alice, exhausted, forgot the new book and passed out next to him.
Frank chuckled softly, realizing she slept on the covers. She hadn't bothered saying good night. Alice must have fallen asleep before her head even hit the pillow. He listened to her snoring and flipped through his reading material. He made notes here and there, not knowing if he was going to use any of it. These were recruit profiles. Kingsley Shacklebolt, it appeared, was born outside of Kent to wealthy parents. He was the only son. Frank vaguely recognized that this surname was on that original list of pureblood families drafted by Nott.
"Good marks in school, sounds like a prep boy. He sounds like me." Frank talked to himself to help this material stick in his head. He was dead tired, for one thing, although this should had been done days ago. Alice rolled into her left side and muttered some nonsense in her sleep. Frank took off his reading glasses, set them on the bedside table, and rubbed his tired eyes. "Ten minutes."
He punched his pillow, sat up a little straighter, and closed his eyes. There was a knock on the door. Thinking he'd imagined it, Frank snuggled into the bed and covered his head with a pillow. The visitor knocked again. Tossing the pillow into the floor and draping his wife with his covers, Frank took his wand off the bedside table and stumbled out of the bedroom.
"I will kill these people," he said, tightening the strap of his house robe over his pajamas. "Someone better be laying somewhere dead."
Snatching the cat in his arms before he escaped and made a run for it, Frank opened the door. Albus Dumbledore stood there.
Frank did not take this as a good sign. He blamed sleep deprivation for forgetting his security measures and setting them aside. "Oh, God. What happened?"
Professor Dumbledore asked to come inside. Despite the hour, he was smiling.
Frank, obviously ignoring his manners, too, stepped aside and carried the cat into the kitchen. He made coffee and decided to give George, the fat tabby cat, a midnight snack. George always got food when Frank woke up in the middle of the night; he and Alice had actual, full blown fights about this. Frank fumbled around in the kitchen and grabbed a parcel of butter biscuits to go with the coffee. After he poured the brew, he went into the sitting room and sat next to Professor Dumbledore.
Professor Dumbledore said something, although Frank caught none of it. Frank just nodded politely, silently praying it was nothing more than small talk. George jumped onto the couch after walking back and forth on the coffee table and settled himself on the professor's lap.
"No, George, get down." Frank tried to shoo the cat away.
"He's fine," said Professor Dumbledore, scratching George behind his ears and peering at Frank through his half-moon spectacles. Frank switched on one of the floor lamps. "Are you awake, Frank?"
"No, sir, I'm not." Frank went with the truth. He sipped his coffee, hoping Professor Dumbledore took his black. It was a little late to ask. He closed his eyes and leaned back. "You're gonna have to talk about something interesting because I'm dead. I'm sorry we were late for the meeting. We missed the whole thing, and that was my fault."
"Frank, I don't care about that. Alastor told me you have family dinners with your parents on Wednesday evenings." Professor Dumbledore helped himself to the coffee and a biscuit. "I'm not going to tell you not to have a life. It sounds nice."
"Have you met my mother? It's not." Frank stopped, apologizing when Professor Dumbledore chuckled politely. He backtracked. "I'm sorry, sir, I get mean when I'm tired. I'll shut up."
Professor Dumbledore put his long fingertips together and did not say anything for a minute. He seemed to be debating whether or not he wanted to break some news to him. Apparently, he went with yes, for he cleared his throat and gave Frank what he, Frank, thought was a look bordering pity.
The professor finished is coffee and asked for another one. Frank, glad for something to do with his hands, took the request gladly. Professor Dumbledore asked to use the bathroom and asked for Alice. After he set the coffee down, Frank pointed down the corridor and went off to wake his wife. Frank went back into the bedroom, followed by George.
He shook Alice. "Alice, dear, wake up."
"No." Alice glanced at the alarm clock: it was two o'clock. "Are you kidding? Get away from me. I'm tired."
"I know, dear, I am, too." Frank wanted to collapse onto the bed and forget the professor ever showed up. It was rude, yes, and he'd surely pay for it later, yet it was really tempting. Maybe the professor would leave. "Get up, Alice, it's Dumbledore."
"What? Why? Damn it." Alice sat up, throwing the covers off, and stepped into her slippers. She snatched an elastic band off of her wrist and pulled her hair into a sloppy ponytail before scooping up the cat following him downstairs. "Professor."
"Alice, I'm sorry to wake you," said Professor Dumbledore, walking over to her and helping her over to the couch.
"It's fine," said Alice, giving the expected answer and probably not meaning it. She gestured at the coffee mugs. Had this been anyone outside of Albus Dumbledore, or Mad-Eye Moody, or maybe Rufus Scrimgeour (and Alice hated Rufus Scrimgeour), she would have asked him to leave. "Frank, can you get me a coffee, please?"
"You can't," he said automatically.
Given the risk of the pregnancy and the rate of miscarriages, their Healer had given them a long, long list of rules to follow this time around. His father, Dewey, who worked with Spell Damage, even said some of them were plain ridiculous. Dewey didn't know why the list existed, but Frank knew he was smart enough to figure to out. Alice had to drink at least eight glasses of water throughout the day, and she could not participate in any chases or eat sweets. The Healer told her to abstain from intimacy as well, although Frank reflected they'd almost broken that rule yesterday. There were other rules, too, stupid ones, though Frank had painstakingly memorized each and every one of them.
Alice's eyes widened and she spoke to him in a falsely sweet voice. "I can't what?"
"Nothing, dear, I'll be right back." Frank didn't feel starting a row this early in the morning, for he'd lose anyway. He came back with a warm cup of milk blended with some coffee. She took the compromise.
"What news?" Alice turned to Professor Dumbledore.
"I had an interview with a candidate for the Divination post this evening before the meeting," he said conversationally. "I heard something."
Alice snorted, resting her feet on the coffee table and petting George. "Sorry."
"We don't believe in that stuff, Professor. We're not even religious." Frank sat in an armchair and flipped through their new nighttime read. "You're an alchemist. I wouldn't have thought you were, either."
Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Nicholas Flamel is a devout Roman Catholic."
"Ah, see? There you go." Frank got comfortable with being proved wrong a long time ago. Honestly, he rather enjoyed being knocked down a few pegs, for it kept him humble.
"Frank." Alice got things back on track, growing a little impatient. "What did you hear?"
Professor Dumbledore told them something that could be interpreted a thousand and one different ways. Parts of this so-called "prophecy" didn't even make sense. It was something about a baby born in July. While Professor Dumbledore didn't feed them the prophecy word-by-word, he paraphrased it. Frank thought he followed along. His brain was on his pillow, so he couldn't be too sure. Alice stopped him, laughing madly when Professor Dumbledore got to some part about marking an equal. She buried her face in her hands, which made Frank think she'd succumbed to tears.
"All right, you need to stop. Please.'" Alice dropped her hands and took a deep breath. She reached for her coffee. "This is insane."
"Alice," said Frank, holding his half-empty mug.
"No. No, I'm not doing this. You want to read Tarot cards and tea leaves? You go ahead, Frank. I'm going to bed." Alice tried to get up and failed. She turned down help from Professor Dumbledore and sat there with her arms crossed.
"You can't believe this," said Frank, desperately trying to reason with the professor.
"He does. You do." Alice turned from Frank to Professor Dumbledore.
Frank thought about the Potters. The Potters were half their age, and Frank knew they would actually put weight behind this thing. They were a happy couple. James sometimes acted like a kid himself, which Frank actually liked, for it showed he enjoyed life. They hadn't yet been hardened by real life. Frank didn't know how they made ends meet; it wasn't any of his business. In truth, he sometimes envied Lily and James because they were still in this blissful, newlywed love stage without the problems of family or finances. They too, had a baby due around the same time. Lily, who Frank called "Miss", even had a bet their children would be born on the same day. They didn't need to be bothered with this nonsense. Frank wanted the Potters to stay in their protective, happy bubble.
"Please don't tell Lily and James," said Frank, finishing his cold coffee and placing the mug on the coffee table. He shared a nod with Professor Dumbledore; Frank took it as an agreement, something close to an Unbreakable Vow. He didn't ask favors of just anybody. "This never happened. We are not discussing this with the Order."
"God. Dewey." Alice glanced at the ceiling. Frank's father loved prophecies and conspiracy theories. "He's going to be insufferable."
"We're not telling anyone," said Frank flatly. He got to his feet when Professor Dumbledore stood and Frank led him to the door. Professor Dumbledore said good night to Alice, and she pretended not to hear him. "She's just tired. Thanks for coming."
Professor Dumbledore said goodnight, and they shook hands. Frank closed and locked his door before he headed back into the sitting room. Alice had claimed the couch and laid on it, placing a throw pillow behind her back. She draped two light crocheted blankets over herself and opened her small book. When Frank opened his mouth, even before he got a word out, she picked up her mug and threw it at the wall. She didn't aim at her husband. He ducked anyway, a little surprised. Frank got the hint: he'd be sleeping alone until further notice. The cat freaked out and shot into the kitchen.
"I didn't do anything," he said, waving his wand over the mess. The coffee disappeared and glass shards appeared in his open hand. He went in the kitchen to dump the stuff in the wastebasket. "When do you want me to wake you up?"
"I'm not going in." Alice flipped a page. "I'm taking off till at least Monday.'
"Alice, we're training recruits," he reminded her, looking for the cat. He found George perched on the highest cabinet. Claws out and hissing, George arched his back and wasn't coming down anytime soon. Frank refilled the cat's food bowl as an apology. "You wanted to stay at work. This - this prophecy means nothing."
"Figure it out." She crossed her legs. "Call it a couple mental health days. You're going to kill that cat."
"George is fine." Frank sat down in the armchair. He'd sleep there if he had to. "Alice. It means nothing."
"You want to know the funny thing?" Alice put the book down. She bought a hand to her lips and started crying. "I didn't want to know. It's a boy."
"Alice." Frank got up and lifted her before he sat down and held her.
"I'm already terrified a hundred percent of the time. I mean, we're giving them a target. We're basically asking the Death Eaters to come after us. I can't sleep because I'm trying to prepare for worse case scenarios. What if they snatch him in the park, Frank?"
"Shhhh. Don't say things like that." He thought about the same things.
"Children go for ransom all the time, Frank. Remember Elizabeth? They buried her alive. I barely found her last year." Alice's hands shook. "We're at the top of the list. Someone's coming after us. It won't end."
"I've got this. I'll kill them before they get our boy. I'll kill every single one of them."
"And go to Azkaban? You were a pampered boy. Augusta's angel. You'll never survive in there, you know? They're right there." Alice dismissed his empty threat right away. "Don't say we're leaving or going into hiding."
"Why not?" Frank sounded a little injured. This had indeed been his next point.
"Because we can't. We're us, Frank, come on! People know us, and we have a reputation to uphold. You led a press conference last week saying you'd get this under control. You're backing out now? Frank Longbottom doesn't go back on his word." She squeezed his hand, taking slow calming breaths. "We'll be fine."
"They won't touch him," said Frank again. He fingered the wedding band on her left hand. "I'll tell Mad-Eye."
"No. He's got enough to deal with at the moment. I don't want him arguing with Dumbledore. He won't buy the prophecy, either." Alice nodded, as though trying to convince herself of her own shaky confidence. Frank didn't know whether Mad-Eye would place stock in the prophecy or not. The man did strange things. "You said we weren't telling anyone. Mad-Eye's part of anyone."
"Yeah. Let's sleep. Go to sleep. Sleep sounds good." Frank closed his eyes and put his feet on the coffee table. Frank eventually crashed, and neither of them heard the alarm clock in the bedroom. He didn't show up to work until after lunch that day.
Two and a half months passed. Alice stayed on the couch; she slept there at night. Frank told himself this was because she was more comfortable in the sitting room, although he wasn't stupid enough to honestly believe this. If she hadn't been expecting and neither of them had any interest in being intimate with each other, Frank seriously put money on good odds that she'd be withholding sex. She did that. It worked. He might as well have been the Seer who had recited this stupid prophecy.
Alice went back to work on the following Monday, which he initially took as a good sign, but she chose to sit on the sidelines. She sat behind a desk and performed duties a newly trained Auror could do freshly off three years of training, If Mad-Eye thought this was a strange move, he kept his mouth shut. She filled out reports, and for the first time since he'd known her, dedicated herself to paperwork.
"A turkey sandwich, apple slices, and a salad," he announced, putting a brown paper bag on her desk. They were having a late lunch. He read over her shoulder, mildly interested. He refilled her thermos with ice-cold water and walked back to her space. "Look who finally leaned how to format. Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine. Thanks for lunch." Alice flipped through her folders and handed him a document. Frank pulled up a chair and hid in her cubicle for an hour every day. People did not leave him alone, yet he'd gotten used to a working lunch ages ago. "Tell Mr. Robards that's illegal. That's not interrogation, Frank, that's classified under cruel and unusual punishment. "
"Oh? Yeah, that's bad. It's a good thing they're in mock interrogation." Frank took the paper. An Auror could not restrain a suspect forcibly in a chair during questioning. They couldn't deny anyone, Death Eater or no, water or refreshment, either. Frank reached over her, grabbed a quill, and scribbled a note. Frank reached out and grabbed an interdepartmental memo when it floated into the cubicle. He finished his tuna sandwich and opened his crisps. He kissed her on the cheek and got to his feet. "I gotta go to Manchester. I forgot about Elizabeth. I'll be home late. Mama's making a chicken pot pie."
"Okay." Alice smiled when he tugged her ponytail. "We're letting her cook now? Do you want me to go? They know me."
Frank looked her up and down. She stayed off her feet nowadays, but Alice crashed when she got home. She took a shower. They went for a nighttime stroll when he could get off. Frank suspected she wanted the kid to get here already. He reminded her she still had a month or so left, laughing when she said she was done with this having a baby thing. It was unreasonably hot for the beginning of July.
"Nope. I can handle this." Alice pulled a face, a little disappointed. Frank put the offer on the table simply so she could hear him say it. "You want to cook?"
"No." Alice said nothing until he turned to walk away towards his own cubicle five rows down. It took a minute for his words to sink in "That means Augusta's gonna be there."
"Play nicely," he said, showing her the document as he disappeared.
After changing into a casual Muggle suit, Frank grabbed a few things at his desk and went to go find Kingsley Shacklebolt, He was in training, but he worked through his lunch, too, Frank admired that. He knocked on the cubicle wall and handed over a case file. "Wanna go to Manchester?"
"Seriously?" Kingsley tossed a glass bottle into a wastebasket and flipped through the file as he ate something from a plastic container. "You're letting me shadow you on this, Mr. Longbottom?"
"Mr. Longbottom's my father. I'm Frank." He kept telling him that. Kingsley was very well mannered. "You can take point it you'd like. You have to change. You got any Muggle clothes?"
"Yes, thank you." Kingsley found a scratchpad, some loose leaf of parchment, and started taking notes after changing his clothes. He got to his feet when Frank started towards the heavy doors. "Oh, we're going now. Okay."
Frank, smiling to himself, held the doors open for him. Alice was right. He really, really liked this kid. Kingsley flipped through the pages and accidentally walked into a wizard carrying broomsticks. They stopped. Kingsley helped the man, apologizing profusely. When they approached the fireplace, Frank took Kingsley by the arm. When they appeared outside a shopping centre, Frank let him go.
"What have we got, Kingsley?" Frank knew already, of course, for he'd drafted every detailed report personally.
"This is Mrs. Longbottom's case." Kingsley flipped back to the first page. "We're checking on Elizabeth Finch. She was taken captive and tortured by Death Eaters last year."
"Alice. Don't call her that, please. She'll give you the cold shoulder for days. She's moody enough as it is." Frank grinned at him and pointed towards a Muggle coffee shoppe. "Alice calls you my golden boy, so I suggest you stay on her good side."
"Yes, sir." Kingsley smiled and stood up a little straighter.
Frank stopped when the little girl came running towards him. Elizabeth was a Muggle girl, aged seven, who simply got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. They could have performed a Memory Charm on her. Alice fought against it. Last year, the brave little girl testified in court. When she raised her arms, Frank picked her up, forgetting to lift with his feet, and patted her blonde locks.
"Little Bit. How are you?" Frank walked up to the store front and waved at the girl's mother.
"Good. Where's Miss Alice?" Elizabeth waved at Kingsley. He waved back, smiling at her. They entered the shoppe and waved at Elizabeth's plump mother who worked behind the counter. ""Mummy, look who I found! It's Mr. Frank."
"I see," said the woman, pouring three large iced cappuccinos and placing them on a plastic try with wrapped sandwiches and crisps. She nodded to Kingsley, who took the tray. When Frank offered Muggle money, struggling with the bills, she waved it away. Miss Finch never took his money. "Are you kidding me? This is on the house. Lunch is dying down. Five minutes?"
"Yeah." Frank pretended to check his watch, although he'd wait all afternoon for this woman. He'd done it before. He sat down in a booth next to Elizabeth. Kingsley took the other side, getting up when Miss Finch arrived. "How're things?"
"Good. I got into the nursing program." Miss Finch grinned when he gave her a high five. She dished out the food and set the plastic tray off to the side. "Where's Alice? Do we have a baby yet?"
"Oh, he's taking his time. She's on desk duty. Oh, she sent this." Frank reached into his jacket took out an envelope Alice had sealed three days ago. They had exchanged the money at Grigotts last Tuesday. Miss Finch counted the bills and read the enclosed letter. Frank, surprised to see her eyes swimming with sudden tears, was taken aback. He lowered his voice and sipped his coffee. "It's not much."
"It's everything. That's groceries. You two are amazing." She squeezed his hand.
"Not a problem. Tell me Little Bit." Frank smiled at the little girl.
"She's doing really good. She's getting top marks in school. And we are only sleeping with the night light and the corridor light. Elizabeth sleeps in her own bed now." Miss Finch smiled at her daughter. "If you guys hadn't found her …"
"…but we did." Frank touched the little girl's face. "This is our last visit, Little Bit, okay?"
"No. I wanna see Miss Alice!" Elizabeth looked at her mother.
"She's resting. I'll tell her you said hello. Hey, I've got something for you." Frank nodded at Kingsley, who sat there taking notes. Frank checked to make sure the coast was clear and tapped the table with his wand. A rectangular box in red wrapping paper appeared. He nudged Elizabeth, putting his wand back inside his jacket. "This is from her. Open it."
Miss Finch took the envelope off the parcel and opened it as her daughter ripped open her gift. Elizabeth squealed when she saw a teddy bear dressed in a pink dress. Miss Finch read the letter aloud with shaking hands.
"'Little Bit and Marianne, thank you for placing your trust in me. Marianne, you told me to never stop looking when your precinct dropped the case. If I can be half the mother you are to Elizabeth, I'll consider myself honored. Thank you for fighting for her. Never stop doing that. Little Bit, I love you. I wish you all the best. If you should ever need anything, you need only ask. Alice.'" Miss Finch got to her feet. " Get up. I'm going to hug you now."
"She gets to call you Marianne? That's messed up." Frank held her close, smiling when she gave a watery chuckle. "That's goes for me, too. If you should ever need anything - anything at all - just ask. It's been a pleasure, ma'am."
Miss Finch smiled when Frank hugged Elizabeth and said goodbye. Kneeling on the floor so they were eye level. Frank gave Elizabeth an ordinary chess piece he'd found in a consignment shop. It was a pawn. He told her ordinary people could do extraordinary things. He wasn't sure the little girl got it because she looked rather disappointed. Kingsley got to his feet after shaking hands with Miss Finch.
Marianne walked them to the door and placed her hands on Elizabeth's shoulders. "You take care of that baby, Frank. And thank you."
"You do the same, Miss Finch. Good afternoon." Frank followed Kingsley out into the street and wiped a tear from his eye. Kingsley didn't crack a smile or dare to laugh. "You wanna have dinner with us tonight?"
Kingsley accepted graciously. They disappeared and appeared again on Newton Street. Frank pointed to the right. They climbed up three flights of stairs, and he rapped on the door. When Alice went through the security measures, he recited the Auror Creed in flawless Latin. It was Frank's favorite document. Everyone else recited the oath in English. Kingsley, impressed, raised his eyebrows.
"Kingsley, hello." Alice opened the door and hugged him. Kingsley stepped inside. She sounded bored when she turned to Frank. "That's too long of an answer. How is anyone going to know if that's correct if they don't know it by heart? Nobody's got time for that, show off."
"It's impressive," said Frank, stepping over the threshold and kissing her. He rested a hand on her stomach. "Who's gonna know that?"
Alice thought about that for a minute. "You. And only you."
"Exactly." Frank made a face and adopted a proper, pompous tone. "That's brilliant, Frank, thank you. Oh, you actually know what you're talking about?"
"It didn't help if you're the only one. My husband's a strange man." Alice patted his chest and nodded to Kingsley. She walked around barefoot. Augusta called from the back of the flat. Alice sighed, frustrated.
"What's wrong?" Frank took off his suit jacket and draped it over his arm.
He waved at the couch, inviting Kingsley to sit down. The blankets were stacked on the arm of the chair. Frank followed Alice into the second bedroom, the nursery. The walls had been changed from a light green to a blue color. Augusta waved her wand and levitated the white crib in midair. The small white bookshelf had been rearranged. The crib landed by the far wall instead of by the window. Frank's mother, pleased with the move, started to organize the stuff in the crib. She'd thrown an old bassinet in the trash.
Frank stepped back when Alice slammed him into the corridor wall.
"You told me to relax and slow down, right?" Alice spoke with a dead calm, slowly losing control. She pointed her wand at his throat.
"That's right. Relax." Frank, alarmed, raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "This isn't relaxing. This is assault."
"I'm trying. You see this? That bassinet was my grandmother's! What the hell? She's ruining my life, Francis. You want me to be calm and relaxed?" Alice lowered her wand and pulled at his shirt as she took deep breaths. "You want a happy wife?"
Frank nodded, actually afraid of her.
"I want my nursery back. I want Dewey over for dinner if she's here. Why is that, Frank?"
Frank knew the answer to this one. "He's a buffer."
"He's a buffer," she repeated evenly, nodding, going back to her conditions. "You will let me name our son. We will name him together. Not her. You will stop her. You will get that bitch out of my house. Because I am so close to fucking killing her!"
"Got it. Go sit down, dear. Have some tea." He reached out and patted her on the cheek. "The decaffeinated stuff, all right? You're crazy right now. Breathe, Alice."
Alice left him standing there. Frank found himself suddenly thankful that, according to that prophecy, he wasn't destined to have a daughter. Frank nodded, readying himself for his mother. He rested his hands on the doorframe.
"Mama? Mama, what're you doing?" Frank walked into the room and mended the bassinet with a casual flick of his wand. He used a Color Changing Spell to get the warm green shade back.
"She doesn't know what she's doing," said Augusta, taking a stuffed octopus out of the crib. "This thing looks ridiculous."
Frank waved his wand in one fell sweep and returned the nursery back it its original state. He placed Mr. Bear, his old favorite childhood friend, on the bookshelf, next to the stuffed seahorse. Augusta complained when the crib zoomed back underneath the window. The light white curtains closed themselves and the rocking chair landed by the reading lamp. Frank walked over and took the octopus from her.
"Thank you." Frank set the octopus next to his squid buddy. "Alice likes the sea. We've spent a lot of time on this. You don't change it."
"I'm trying to help you." Augusta crossed her arms and stood her ground.
"And I appreciate that. That's an family heirloom." He pointed at the bassinet before he guided his mother out of the nursery. Frank turned off the light. "Mama, if we need your help, and I'm sure we will, we will ask for it. You are suffocating Alice. Wait for me to ask."
"I'm suffocating her? Really, Frank! Alice needs me," she said, holding her ground.
"No, Alice needs you to leave her alone. Tell you what. If we need help, when we need help, you and Daddy will be the first ones we ask, okay? I've got this."
Frank negotiated with Death Eaters. Surely, he thought, he could smooth things over with his mother. Augusta gave him a curt nod and actually bothered with an apology. Augusta excused herself to go to the bathroom halfway through dinner. Frank cleared his throat and offered Alice a sip of wine as a peace offering. Kingsley laughed.
Frank hesitated, thinking of the best way to phrase this while he had the time. "So, apparently, I'm a spoiled little boy."
"You don't say!" Alice placed a hand on her chest, and feigned surprise as she lifted the wine glass.
"All right, all right," he said, laughing with them. Alice took his hand under the table. They discussed Miss Finch and Elizabeth. Alice clapped her hands when he told her, beaming, about the gifts. When his mother returned to the table, Frank passed her a serving dish. "Want some bread, Mama?"