Nan asked as she poured coffee. “After work. He might be asleep, still—I’m making the effort.” “Oh? Is it an effort? I thought you liked reading to him.” “I do.” Jo added sugar. “Then, what’s the problem?” Nan took her mug to the table. “I don’t want to get any more attached.” Her aunt chuckled. “Maybe you’d better move to Alaska, kitten. You’re already in this one up to your neck.” “Have you seen East of Eden?” Jory asked, ignoring her aunt’s comment. “On the second shelf in the living room, last time I looked. Have you read the rest of Steinbeck?” “The ones we have? Yes. That’s the last one. Thought I’d start on Sinclair Lewis next.” Nan shook her head. “You’re turning him into you.” “He likes it. Told me his folks didn’t read much. He was more into sports than books.” “And now?” “Obviously, sports are out of the question. At least for now.” “Any word on his leg?” “Nobody’s making any predictions.” “Eyes?”
