clearing the table. “Yeah, I’ll buy you two concert tickets.”
“All right!” Anthony stood, stretched. “I’m going to pack now. Then I think I’ll stay up all night so I don’t have to get up early.” He pulled my apron string as he walked past, then told me, as he always did, “Hey, Mom. Your apron’s untied.”
I started rinsing the dishes while Pete finished clearing. “So today,” he said, “this old lady comes into the store and asks me where I keep the pliers. I tell her, and she goes back there for a really long time. Then she comes past the checkout counter with a pair of pliers sticking out of her purse. ‘Excuse me,’ I said. ‘You going to pay for those?’ And you know what she says? She says, ‘Well, I wasn’t planning on it.’ ”
I looked at him, laughed.
“I swear!”
“So who was it?”
He shrugged. “Beats me. Jeannie said she thought it might be Theresa Haggerty’s mom, who’s visiting her from Florida. I guess she’s not quite all there.”
“I guess not. So, did she pay?”
“Yeah, she paid. And then she tried to give me a tip.”
I shook my head, smiling, and rinsed the last of the silverware, loaded the dishwasher, and set it to start a few hours later.
“So what happened to you today?” Pete asked, sitting down again at the kitchen table.
I sat opposite him. “Let’s see. I got a call from a woman who wants a quilt made for each of her seven grandchildren. And I saw three ducklings cross the street by Save Mart. All the traffic just stopped, waiting for them to cross, and them taking their sweet, waddly time. I love it when that happens—kind of puts things in perspective.”
Pete smiled. “Yeah, it does.”
“And here’s a memory for you,” I said, “Once, at the fair, I went into the tunnel of love by myself. I was Hannah’s age. Ahead of me was this couple, kissing away. And I just couldn’t stand it, I wanted so much to have a boyfriend. I took my gum out my mouth and threw it at them. I wanted it to get in the girl’s hair.”
“Nice.”
“I know.”
“So what did she do?”
“I missed. It landed on the back of the guy’s neck. He got really mad. He turned around with this killer look, and I yelled, ‘I didn’t do that! I don’t know where it came from; I just saw it fly past. I didn’t do it!’ I’m sure he knew I was lying, but he went back to his girlfriend.”
“You want me to take you in the tunnel of love this year?”
“Yes. And on the Ferris wheel. And to the pig barn. And to see the butterheads. And to the cheese curd stand, and for roasted corn and caramel apples. And pie. And Swedish coffee. And to see the tractors and the home improvement stuff. And I’ll go to the technology building with you if you’ll come to creative arts with me. I want to see the dog shows. And the horse shows—I don’t want to miss the Lipizzaners again.”
“Go help Hannah pack,” Pete said. “I’m exhausted already.”
JUST BEFORE I FELL ASLEEP, the phone rang. Pete answered, then said, “Oh, hi, Caroline; here’s Laura,” and handed the receiver to me. He’s never been one to chat on what he calls a modest instrument of torture, but you would think he might have learned to be a bit less abrupt. My sister was used to it by now, of course, but I was always having to explain to new friends that my husband was really a very nice guy, he just had no telephone etiquette.
“Were you sleeping?” Caroline asked.
“Not yet.”
“You weren’t . . .”
“No.”
“Okay. Listen, I’m sorry to call this late, but I wanted to catch you before you got to Mom and Dad’s. I’ve been . . . there’s something I have to do.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
“Well, I want to have us kids get together, just by ourselves—you, me, and Steve. A restaurant, maybe; we could go out for dinner or something.”
“Why?” To plan Mom and Dad’s anniversary? I wondered. It would be fifty-five years this September: admirable, but not something you usually make a big deal out of.
“I want to talk about some things.”
“What things?” I began to get alarmed. “Is it something about your health?” Pete turned on the bedside lamp, mouthed What’s up? I lifted my shoulders: I don’t know.
“No, it’s . . . I’ve just been thinking a lot, lately, about the way we