He gets out, smiling and waving. “Hi, Matt! How was your day?” I shrug. It is nicer than saying “crappy.” He grabs about a dozen plastic grocery bags at once from the backseat of the car, closing the door with his foot. I decide I can hold the storm door open for him.The top of the door snags the hem of the PACE flag. He looks up at it. “It’s starting to sag. Guess I need to fix that.” “What is the deal with this, anyway?” I know now that their last name is Fox. He stops and stares at me. “You’ve never seen one of these? It’s a peace flag. Pah-chay. That’s Italian for peace.” Oh. Italian is not one of my languages.And I am not sure that marking your house with a flag that screams “peace” is such a good idea these days. I sigh and follow Sam inside. “Hi, sweetheart!” he yells into the house. He and Jessica are always calling each other love names. I am embarrassed for them. They have no idea how ridiculous they sound. We are greeted by the Blob making odd gurgling noises at the top of his lungs.The gray streaks in Jessica’s long brown hair look like they have multiplied.
