Ten

"You know, Maggie," realization sparked in her eyes like a firecracker. "He's my Harold Crick! I created him and then he came to me. All and nothing, he's like a dream."
Maggie couldn't help but laugh. Her friend had always been this way, some would say melodramatic, but Maggie thought simply unafraid to sound at turns silly or poetic in her everyday speech. It was amusing."A good dream, I assume...?" She grinned.
"No - oh no. Both good and bad, like any real human should be. He was sort of my favorite, I don't know why I never finished his story."
"Really? Well, would this be a character I am familiar with?" "Yes." She tried not to smile.
"Okay, and his name is?" Maggie couldn't suppress her curiosity. "C'mon man, I'm helping you out a lot here. And anyway, I've got a hunch, but I want you to admit it yourself. It'll be good for you."
"You better not laugh." A serious smirk. "Oh hell, you already are. His name was Andy. Andy Delaney."
"I knew it." Maggie had to say. "But you've got one thing wrong."
"Hm?"
"Andy's eyes were blue. His are green."
"Are you really going to do that, Maggie?" She laughed.
"Maybe."
"If you must. Yes, Andy's eyes were blue, but I couldn't make them green because neither of his parents had green - and Dean had to have green eyes. Besides, he has hazel eyes - they lean toward green, yes. But they're hazel. Aren't they beautiful, Maggs? Such a warm hazel."
Maggie's laugh was long and loud. "You're such a sucker."