Dr. Leslie Thompkins

He wasn't kidding when he'd told her that this place held a lot of memories. Not least the dates with Babs, so long ago. It's almost like that was in another world, another place, these days; so much is different -- though his love for the redhead who's now been his wife for some years hasn't diminished, merely grown stronger and deeper with time. No better evidence is there for that argument than the dark haired seven year old who walks alongside her mother's chair, one hand on her arm and the other holding her father's. It's a perfect fall day, with a crisp smell heralding the seasons' change in the air coming off the river as the morning clouds begin to clear: a good day, in other words, to meet an old friend.

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Has it really been so long? Mary looks nothing like the last time Leslie saw her. She's no longer a toddler. Instead, a young lady approaches. Barbara and Dick haven't changed at all. There's still that characteristic glow of a loving relationship. The joyous scene and reunion makes her smile.

"My goodness, how you've grown."

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Too long. The young Mary has a confident gait borne from her multiple classes in gymnastics -- and trapeze, of course -- giving her more fluidity, poise, control and grace of movement for her age. Today she's wearing dark blue track pants and a sweater and her round face breaks into a bright smile reminiscent of her father's as she drops Dick's hand to cross the last few metres to the table at a jog for her customary hug.

"She's been eating her greens," Dick says as he catches up. "Well. Green pieces of cereal," he concedes.

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Leslie has enough hugs to go around. She wraps her arms around Mary and plants a kiss on the top of her head. Then she embraces both parents. "Taking after her father in so many ways," she teases.

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"Fortunately not in all ways," replies the woman who's had many conversations on the topic of socks and the proper place for same. "How've you been, Leslie?"

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"Well," she answers immediately. She looks it too. For once, she's actually well rested. "How about yourself?"

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Babs waggles a hand back and forth. "Busy. Work. Trying to keep up with a child who seems to be part bird."

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"You wouldn't want it any other way," she suspects. She can't get over how different Mary looks.

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"What'd you expect when you married a Robin?" Dick replies with his trademark grin, as he pulls a chair out next to the good doctor for Mary to sit.

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"Eggs for breakfast every morning," she deadpans.

Mary doesn't scramble into her chair. It's more of a vault.

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Leslie wonders if Mary will also inherit her parents' sense of humor along with their athletic abilities.

"Well, I hope you don't eat like a bird," she comments to their young daughter.

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"Today is a Bottomless Pit kind of day," he replies as he sits between the two women. "She's already eaten two waffles, a handful of baby carrots, a granola bar and the best part of a quarter bag of Goldfish. That was before nine, I'll add."

Mary beams brightly, clearly proud of herself for this gastronomical achievement.

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She laughs. "What did you eat after nine?"

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"Let-tuce wraps," Mary says, emphasizing the double consonant.

"But no dipping sauce yet," her mother adds.

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"With all the jumping and bounding you've done since breakfast, I have no doubt that you're absolutely starving. I understand the mac and cheese is fantastic. I tried to order it once but they said I was too old for the kids menu."

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Mary looks horrified at the idea that one of her favorite people cannot have macaroni and cheese. "But that's silly," she says, "Daddy makes macaroni and cheese, why can't you have any?"

"Well... admittedly, it's from a box most of the time..."

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"I think a great many people are under the mistaken impression that once you get to be my age, you no longer have a taste for it. How you can possibly outgrow cheese is beyond me."

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"I'm never going to outgrow cheese," declares Mary. "Daddy eats it, and Mommy eats it, and they're big and old."

Mary's mother looks at Mary's father. She doesn't even try to hide her smile.

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And Leslie doesn't try to suppress her chuckle. "Out of the mouths of babes."

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