But it wasn’t the first time Theo had surprised them. His parents didn’t understand why Tess had so many more nightmares than Theo did. Once, however, Theo had something that Tess had not. When Theo was very small, he’d had an imaginary friend.

“Can you set a place for Pink?” he’d asked his mother, as she set the table for dinner.

“Who’s Pink?” asked his mother.

“Pink. My friend. He’s right there.” He pointed to a chair.

His mother frowned, but his dad nodded. “Okay, here’s a plate for Pink. I hope he likes brisket.”

“He loves brisket,” Theo said. “And mashed potatoes. Mashed potatoes are his favorite.”

“Good to know,” Theo’s mom said.

“Mashed potatoes don’t get stuck in his teeth. He has a lot of teeth.”

“Really?” asked Theo’s mom. “Is he a shark?”

“What? No!” Theo said.

“A tiger?”

“No.”

“A lion.”

“No! He’s a wolf.”

“Is he a pink wolf?”

“Why would a wolf be pink?” Theo said.

“Right, I’m sorry. Sometimes I get confused,” said Theo’s mom, smiling in that way that grown-ups smile when they think you’re doing something cute instead of something serious. Pink was a big, bad wolf, who could get bigger anytime he wanted to, and that was serious business. Very serious. The reason Theo didn’t have as many nightmares as Tess was because Pink watched over him. No one would have a nightmare if they had a Pink.

Anyway, it was not something to smile about.

“Why are you smiling?” Theo demanded.

“Mom is smiling because you have a friend,” said Theo’s dad.

“That’s not why she’s smiling,” Theo muttered.

“It is,” said Theo’s mom.

“Never mind. Pink doesn’t want brisket anymore.” As he stomped away, Theo overheard his parents talking about his “imaginary” friend, which only made him angrier. Grandpa Ben said that all sorts of things—stories and machines and medicine—started as ideas in people’s imaginations. Pink was not imaginary, and even if he was, that didn’t make him any less real.

Later, at night, after he had read Theo one last story, Grandpa Ben told Theo not to be angry, not to be sad, because when Theo’s mom was little, she’d had an imaginary friend, too.

“Was it a wolf?” Theo asked.

“No. Not a wolf.”

“A shark?”

“No, not a shark. It was a girl.”

“That’s boring,” said Theo.

From the other side of the room, Tess yelled, “Girls are NOT boring!”

“You’re boring,” Theo said.

“HA!” said Tess, who was not boring at all, and knew it.

“Your mom’s friend was named Ms. Trixie. And Miriam—your mom—liked for us to set an extra place at the table, too. And Ms. Trixie came with us to the library and to the park and even on vacation. Your mom didn’t like to go anywhere without her.”