There seemed to be so many of them, now that they had been taken out of the cupboard, that she couldn’t decide whether to pack them in a box to be taken to Clark’s Harbor or to haul them down to the large storeroom in the basement where most of their personal effects were going to be stored while they were gone. Finally she evaded the issue entirely by turning her attention to the pots and pans. Those were easy—the old, battered ones went with them, the good ones stayed behind. She was about to begin packing what seemed to her like the ninety-fifth box when the telephone rang. Gratefully, she straightened up and reached for the phone.“I’ll get it,” Brad called from the living room, where he was filling cartons with books.“Some people get all the breaks,” Elaine muttered loudly enough so she was sure Brad heard her.“Hello?” Brad said automatically as he picked up the receiver.“Brad? Is that you? It’s Glen Palmer.”“Hi!” Brad exclaimed warmly. “What’s up?”There was a slight hesitation, then Glen’s voice came over the line once more, but almost haltingly.“Look, are you people still planning to move out here?”“Imminently,”
