Sarah dropped off, still wondering why. She woke with the sun blazing in through the opened curtains and Max entertaining his son with an imitation of Boris Chaliapin and John McCormack singing “The Three Little Pigs” in concert. “I know,” she exclaimed for what must have seemed like no good reason. “They both came from New York.” Max finished on a high C and a low D. “Who did?” “Aunt Bodie and Aunt Caroline, of course. Did you change him?” “Look, that’s man-to-man stuff. We don’t ask you intimate personal questions, do we? Were you planning to get up today, or shall Dave and I just open a can of beans and flip a steak on the grill?” “Why don’t you both clear out of here and let me get dressed in peace? What time is it, anyway?” “Almost eight o’clock. I’ve got to call Birmingham before the rates change.”
