"Not home," Mark answered unhelpfully. But really. How else was he supposed to react? He went from New York City to Lawrence, Kansas, back to New York but in a whole different world and then... "Wait," he said, pausing. "This might be like the time..."
And then it happened. Something he never thought he'd see, particularly not with the woman in front of him. The child was little, couldn't have been more than six or seven, possibly even younger. And he wasn't crazy. It was the same kid as in the picture. Oh, shit. And he'd just called Faith mommy? Shit squared.
Well, someone had to do something. The boy was looking at Faith and then over at Mark, as if one of them had better say something soon or he was going to run away and go to the museum himself and forget them. Despite the panic running through him, he took a deep breath and tried to think clearly. "Um. Yeah, sure. We'll go later, okay?" What was he even saying? What museum? And why was Faith this kid's mommy? What if he wasn't supposed to be answering? Did he even know who Mark was? Oh, hell.
Six...six...what could he do at six? "Did you eat breakfast yet?" he asked, kneeling down so he was at the boy's eye level. "Or get dressed? How are we supposed to go to the museum if you don't do all of that?" If they could get away from the kid without freaking him out, they could look around. Figure things out. Find out what the hell was happening. But Mark wasn't the sort of man who could scare a little kid to death. Even he wasn't that stupid.