chapter 19

“Grandfather’s asked Al’s mother out on a date,” I said, watching my mother closely, thinking, hoping actually, she’d freak when she heard the news.

“I know,” she said calmly. “He told me. Isn’t that nice? I’m sure they’ll enjoy each other’s company.”

“He’s pretty old for her, don’t you think?” I said, in a severe way designed to intimidate her. “I mean, when you think about it, he’s old enough to be her father.”

“So he is. If he’s old enough to be my father,” my mother said, “he’s old enough to be Al’s mother’s father. However, I do believe she’s several years older than I am.” My mother sat up straight and stretched out her neck in an effort to eliminate unwanted bulges.

“Al says she’s forty-four or forty-five,” I said. “She doesn’t remember exactly what year she was born.”

“Ah, yes.” My mother smiled. “The old failing memory trick. I know it well. They’ll have a fine time. Cool your jets,” my mother told me. I hate it when she talks like that, as if she were my age. It’s very undignified, I think.

“Grandfather’s taking Al’s mother to the ballet,” I told my father. Maybe he’d jump up and down and say, “I won’t have it!”

“Is that so?” He looked over the top of his newspaper at me. “I didn’t know they knew each other.”

“Dad,” I said very patiently, “they met here, in this apartment. At Al’s party.”

“Oh, so they did, so they did.” My father disappeared behind his paper. I directed a couple of laser beam stares at him, thinking how cool it would be if the paper went up in smoke before his very eyes.

But nothing happened, as it so often does.

The big question I ask myself often is: is my father as out of it as he pretends to be, or is it a ruse he uses when he doesn’t want to get involved? Men, fathers particularly, can be pretty sneaky at times, I’ve discovered.

As luck would have it, Teddy was lurking. Scratching himself and lurking. Teddy’s fading fast. His spots now look like freckles on their way out. He’s full of pent-up energy. He’s going back to school on Monday. The whole family is offering up thanks for small favors.

“I heard you!” Teddy screeched. “I heard you! Don’t think you can keep it a secret from me! Al’s mother’s going out with our grandfather. What’s going on here, anyway?” Teddy scrooched up his face into a tight knot. I couldn’t get over his resemblance to my favorite baby monkey at the zoo.

“Keep your hair on, kid,” I told Teddy. “It’s strictly a platonic friendship.”

Teddy clapped his hands over his mouth. His beady little eyes sparkled gleefully.

“I’m telling, I’m telling!” he crooned from behind his hands. “A platonic friendship, huh?” Teddy was onto some pretty hot stuff here. He went happily into the bathroom, complete with fins and mask. Teddy liked nothing better than to go snorkeling in the tub. Usually he sings while preparing himself for descent.

“My bonnie lies over the ocean,” I heard Teddy shouting. “My bonnie lies over the sea.”

Someone had told Teddy that the song was very dirty. My mother said it was dirty only if you had a dirty mind.

Teddy was crestfallen when she said that. Which was a joy in itself. Nothing I like better than to see that kid’s crest fall.

If I want to make his day, I bang on the bathroom door while he’s singing and cry, “The sheriff’s on his way to arrest you if you don’t quit singing that dirty song!” So, feeling big-hearted, I did just that.

I banged and shouted, and I could hear Teddy gurgling with pleasure as he submerged.

I mean, you can hear dirtier songs in your friendly neighborhood record shop. Any day of the week.