“Hey there, son. Good to see you. It’s been a while.” As Marcus enveloped the much shorter, even rounder silver-haired wife into a friendly hug, Harold continued. “We’re here with Harry Jr. and his wife. The baby’s comin’ a little early, it seems.” Joyce nodded, her eyes worried but her face stoic. “It’ll be fine. Just a matter of time now.” Harold looked over at Marcus. “But what are you doing here? Did I miss some news of some sort? Your Uncle Lou and Aunt Molly been holdin’ out on me?” Marcus laughed, holding up his hands in a keep-away gesture. “Whoa there. Nope, no way, no news on my end. I’m here in a purely supportive mode.” He turned to one side and swept an arm wide to indicate me. “I’d like you to meet someone. My girl, Maggie O’Neill. Oh, and her parents, Glenn and Patricia, and her grandpa, Gordon. Maggie, everyone, these two fine folks are Harold and Joyce Watkins, old friends of my Uncle Lou.” Grandpa G stopped ladling his cracker-laden soup into his mouth long enough to wave a spoon at the newcomers.
