Who's That?

One day this month, I heard my 27-month-old waking up from a nap:

"Who's that? Who's that?" She called out. She had never used that phrase before.

I ran upstairs. "Who are you talking about, honey?"

"That man." She pointed to the floor beside her bed.

There was nobody there. I told her so.

"The man was there."

"Did the man talk to you?"

She nodded.

"What did he say?"

"It's my house."

"He told you it was his house?"

"Yes." My heart pounded. I told her it was our house, our home.

"Did he say anything else?"

"He said 'Thank You'. The books."

"What's his name?"

"Jeff. He gave me my [pacifier]."

My heart jumped. We don't know anyone by that name and it's not a name in the few cartoons that she watches.

She also told me that he often visits her and reads books. I told her he wouldn't be back. Though I didn't see him, I asked 'Jeff' not to return.