anything away, and her boys complain that she keeps cluttering up the place with more and more junk.”
“It’s not junk,” Beth protested. She looked down at the little dog and said, “It’s beautiful. I remember how she used to let me hold it when I was little.”
“No kidding!” my dad said. “I didn’t realize you even knew her.”
“Walter,” said my mom, “Mrs. Palagonia’s been living here longer than we have. She knew Kathy and Dan even before they had kids. She ... she ... ”
“She’s a very nice lady,” Beth said, “and the boys are so good-looking.” She began giggling. “They look like movie stars. I’m so glad I saw them. They were going to visit their Uncle Joe out on the Island. I think I remember him too. Isn’t he a little fat man with a finger missing—and he used to play a game with us. He used to put his handkerchief over his fingers and make believe there was a bird underneath, and we ...” She went jabbering on and on, waving the little dog around with one hand, and the little fan with the other.
My father reached over and patted Beth’s head. “What a memory you have, Beth!” He turned to Mom. “It’s really amazing what she remembers— things I’ve forgotten—good things. It’s like time stood still for her while it moved along for the rest of us.”
My mother’s face crinkled up as if she were going to cry again, even though the smell of the onions had gone. I thought, she’s hurting because she’s remembering how Beth decided to go away with the Lattimores. It’s making her feel bad again.
Beth stopped chattering. She looked over at the kitchen window, and her face collapsed into its usual tight, mean look. “I remember all sorts of bad things too,” she said.
“Oh, sure,” said my father. “Everybody remembers bad things.” He shook his head. “It’s easy to remember bad things, but it’s nice the way you remember all sorts of good things too—like the game Mrs. Palagonia’s brother used to play with you and her little knickknacks.”
“I remember all sorts of bad things,” Beth repeated, still looking at the kitchen window.
“Where do you want to put the fans?” I asked. “Mrs. Palagonia returned the little one, and she’s lending us the big one from her living room.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” My mom came alive. “Alex isn’t bringing his because it isn’t working right. Okay, so we’ll put the little one up here on the refrigerator, and the big one—what do you think, Walter? How about in the dining room?”
“Makes sense,” said my dad.
“Can I use the phone?” Beth asked. “I want to call my mother.”
“Oh, that’s right,” said my mom. “She called. While you were upstairs. She said she’ll be at the hotel for another hour or so, and you should call her back. I nearly forgot.”
“Thanks a lot!” Beth’s voice had a nasty sound to it.
My mom said apologetically, “I’m sorry, Beth, but I was so busy, it just slipped my mind.”
“It’s no big deal,” I said, watching Beth’s back as she moved down the hall toward the phone. I turned to my mom. “You don’t have to apologize, Mom. She’s just being a creep.”
“Molly!” my father warned.
“Mrs. Palagonia fell all over her,” I told them. “She acted like Beth was some kind of long-lost relative, and she kept kissing her and kissing her.”
“Well, I guess it’s been a long time,” said my dad.
“And she gave her that stupid little dog to keep. She never gave me anything to keep, and she sees me all the time. Beth has all the luck. She ... she ... ”
Both of my parents were standing still, very quiet. I stopped talking, and the only voice we could hear was Beth’s, from down the hall. “... All grown up and so good-looking. And, Mom, she gave me a little china dog, Mom, a beautiful little ... ”
“I’m sorry,” I said, looking up into my mother’s worried face. I put my arms around her, and she bent over and whispered into my
“It’s not junk,” Beth protested. She looked down at the little dog and said, “It’s beautiful. I remember how she used to let me hold it when I was little.”
“No kidding!” my dad said. “I didn’t realize you even knew her.”
“Walter,” said my mom, “Mrs. Palagonia’s been living here longer than we have. She knew Kathy and Dan even before they had kids. She ... she ... ”
“She’s a very nice lady,” Beth said, “and the boys are so good-looking.” She began giggling. “They look like movie stars. I’m so glad I saw them. They were going to visit their Uncle Joe out on the Island. I think I remember him too. Isn’t he a little fat man with a finger missing—and he used to play a game with us. He used to put his handkerchief over his fingers and make believe there was a bird underneath, and we ...” She went jabbering on and on, waving the little dog around with one hand, and the little fan with the other.
My father reached over and patted Beth’s head. “What a memory you have, Beth!” He turned to Mom. “It’s really amazing what she remembers— things I’ve forgotten—good things. It’s like time stood still for her while it moved along for the rest of us.”
My mother’s face crinkled up as if she were going to cry again, even though the smell of the onions had gone. I thought, she’s hurting because she’s remembering how Beth decided to go away with the Lattimores. It’s making her feel bad again.
Beth stopped chattering. She looked over at the kitchen window, and her face collapsed into its usual tight, mean look. “I remember all sorts of bad things too,” she said.
“Oh, sure,” said my father. “Everybody remembers bad things.” He shook his head. “It’s easy to remember bad things, but it’s nice the way you remember all sorts of good things too—like the game Mrs. Palagonia’s brother used to play with you and her little knickknacks.”
“I remember all sorts of bad things,” Beth repeated, still looking at the kitchen window.
“Where do you want to put the fans?” I asked. “Mrs. Palagonia returned the little one, and she’s lending us the big one from her living room.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” My mom came alive. “Alex isn’t bringing his because it isn’t working right. Okay, so we’ll put the little one up here on the refrigerator, and the big one—what do you think, Walter? How about in the dining room?”
“Makes sense,” said my dad.
“Can I use the phone?” Beth asked. “I want to call my mother.”
“Oh, that’s right,” said my mom. “She called. While you were upstairs. She said she’ll be at the hotel for another hour or so, and you should call her back. I nearly forgot.”
“Thanks a lot!” Beth’s voice had a nasty sound to it.
My mom said apologetically, “I’m sorry, Beth, but I was so busy, it just slipped my mind.”
“It’s no big deal,” I said, watching Beth’s back as she moved down the hall toward the phone. I turned to my mom. “You don’t have to apologize, Mom. She’s just being a creep.”
“Molly!” my father warned.
“Mrs. Palagonia fell all over her,” I told them. “She acted like Beth was some kind of long-lost relative, and she kept kissing her and kissing her.”
“Well, I guess it’s been a long time,” said my dad.
“And she gave her that stupid little dog to keep. She never gave me anything to keep, and she sees me all the time. Beth has all the luck. She ... she ... ”
Both of my parents were standing still, very quiet. I stopped talking, and the only voice we could hear was Beth’s, from down the hall. “... All grown up and so good-looking. And, Mom, she gave me a little china dog, Mom, a beautiful little ... ”
“I’m sorry,” I said, looking up into my mother’s worried face. I put my arms around her, and she bent over and whispered into my
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