“She still killing it?” I joke since she’s been losing pretty badly. “With a score of two,” Farrow says, popping bubblegum. “Two!” Ripley holds up two fingers. “Uh-oh, we got a mathematician on our hands,” I say. “Uh-oh?” Ripley frowns up at Farrow, since he’s on his lap. I laugh, and Farrow shakes his head at me with a rising grin. Maximoff smiles over at his husband and son. “You counted correctly, Rip.” Farrow tells his kid, “Your Uncle Donnelly is just teasing you.”
