One quiet Saturday morning, Joey was sitting on the couch, drawing in a notebook. Mr. Peabody was sitting in a chair, reading the newspaper. He looked up and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Um...Just drawing."

"May I see?"

"I guess."

Mr. Peabody sat on the couch beside her, and she handed him the notebook and said, "It's not very good."

The canine smiled. "This is wonderful! I didn't know you liked art!"

"I try not to do it much."

"Why not? I can tell you are very talented, just by looking at this. Do you have any more?"

"Yeah, mostly just in that notebook."

Mr. Peabody carefully examined each drawing, then he said, "All of these are outstanding! I bet, if you hone your skill, you can become a master!"

"You...you really think so?"

"Of course, and I can teach you, if you want."

Joey smiled a little bit. "That would be good," she replied, softly.

Mr. Peabody energetically shared his knowledge about art with Joey each day, and she never got overwhelmed or upset when he did. They drew together, painted together, and went to art galleries and museums.

Another day, while Mr. Peabody left to get some supplies, Joey looked at the grand piano. She had been drawn to it for a long time, but she didn't dare play it because of embarassment. However, since the canine was gone, she felt free to play. She pushed some of the keys and started playing, "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star". For the most part, she did well even though she messed up a few notes.

Suddenly, Mr. Peabody came in, back from his trip. Joey immediately stopped playing and got up. "No, no," he exclaimed. "Keep playing."

"I'm not good at it at all. I can't even read music," she said, embarassed.

"Everyone has to start from somewhere," Mr. Peabody said. He sat on the piano bench and motioned for her to sit next to him. It was then that he started to teach her how to play the piano.

Art and music were the only two things Joey was passionate about, but Mr. Peabody nurtured her interests. They seemed to bond more and more each time they did something together, and Joey seemed more at ease and comfortable around him.

"Mr. Peabody?" Joey asked one night before bed.

"Yes?"

"Um, I know this is really stupid, but could you...uh..." She looked at the floor, uneasily.

"What?"

"...read me to sleep?"

"Of course. What would you like me to read?"

"Anything is okay."

"Alright. Lie down, and I'll be right there."

A little later, Mr. Peabody came into Joey's bedroom, where Joey was under the covers, waiting. He pulled up a chair and started reading. He stopped when she looked like she fell asleep. As he stood up, he whispered, "Good night, Josephine."

"Good night, Mr. Peabody," Joey said, sleepily.

Mr. Peabody paused and put the book on her nightstand. He leaned down and gently hugged her.

Joey hugged him back.

Then, he kissed her on her forehead and said, "I love you."

Suddenly, something inside Joey shattered. No one, no one had ever said those words to her. No one had ever felt that way about her. She had always been around people who teased her, belittled her, or used her to get money. No one had ever cared about her. No one had ever said those three small words to her. Ever.

Joey tried not to cry or choke on her words when she said, "I love you, too."

Mr. Peabody got up, left the room, and closed the door behind him. In the darkness, Joey was free to cry, and she cried herself to sleep.