“And I can live without a screeching parrot.” Alice had told us about her youngest son, who had brought one home when he’d been in high school. Its vocabulary hadn’t been particularly blue, but its raucous pleas to “Kiss me, gorgeous!” hadn’t gone over well with either Alice or the neighbors.
Fish allowed.
“How’s that?”
“A nice, quiet pet. That works for me, Jack.”
Before I could call in the ad, the phone rang, and Alice went to pick it up.
“Matheson residence.”…“Oh, no!”…“Oh, Tom!”…“Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She hung up, white as a sheet and trembling.
“Alice?”
“It’s Ginny.” Her only daughter. “She’s gone into labor. It’s too early. Nothing is ready. I have to go there.”
“Of course. I’ll drive you.” Her daughter and son-in-law lived in Queens, just west of the borderli
