“There’s no Santa Claus,” Charlie said.
“Who told you that?” said Bernie.
“Esmé.”
“Who’s Esmé?”
“At school.”
“Well,” said Bernie, “everyone has their own opinion.”
“It’s not an opinion, Dad,” said Charlie. “It’s a scientific fact.”
“Oh?”
“From a scientist.”
“Any scientist in particular?”
“Groucho Marx.”
“Esmé told you that?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Know much about Groucho Marx?”
Charlie shrugged his skinny little shoulders. “He was a scientist and he said there ain’t no Santa Claus.”
“What do Esmé’s parents do?”
“Drive her to school. Pick her up.”
“I meant for a living.”
“Like you’re a private eye?”
“Yeah. Like that.”
“I don’t think they’re private eyes,” Charlie said.
“Why not?”
“They’re rich.”