Paris takes the phone away from her ear and just looks at it. “She hung up in my face.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Janelle says.

“Bitch,” Paris says.

“Where is George?” I ask Janelle.

“He’s gone.”

“Gone where?”

“I don’t know, and don’t care.”

“Well, look. How long you all gon’ be in town?” Cecil asks.

“Just for the weekend. Why? Do you want to invite us over to your place?” Paris asks.

“Can’t you stay for dinner, Daddy?” Janelle asks.

“No, he can’t,” I say.

“I can’t, sugar,” Cecil says. “I gotta get to work.”

“Work?” Janelle says.

“You might not be too familiar with the term: work,” Paris says to her in a sarcastic way. She really is just trying to be funny. I think.

Dingus is back down on the floor, just listening, his head moving back and forth like he at a tennis match. He’s got a smirk on his face, like this shit is better than The Young and the Restless. He’s about right. Shanice done disappeared into the kitchen. I hear the refrigerator open. Ain’t nobody thinking about it but me. Gotta watch her. It’s beer today, scotch tomorrow. Gotta talk to my granddaughter. Get her to understand. Get Janelle to do something.

“Go straight to hell, Paris,” Janelle says. “Daddy?”

“I work security at Harrah’s.”

“You think that’s smart, being inside a casino for all those hours?” Paris asks. She should stop.

“I manage okay.”

“Paris,” I say, “is your pill working yet?”

“Not quite.”

“Maybe you should take another one.”

“Why?”

“Because you still seem a little testy.”

“Testy?”

“That’s what I just said.”

“Then maybe I should just cook and not say a word.”

“No, wait. Cecil, didn’t you say you had some good news?” I ask.

“Me?”

“No, your uncle.”

“It can wait,” he says.

“No, come on, Daddy,” Paris says, “we would love to hear some good news, couldn’t we, you guys?” She looks around at everybody until it seems like they all agree.

“Good news is always worth sharing,” Janelle says.

“I could sure use some,” I say.

“Me, too,” Lewis says from the front porch. I’m beginning to wonder if he gon’ sleep out there.

Cecil looks nervous, worried, scared. Maybe his news ain’t good. He just said he had some news. He didn’t exactly say it was good news, now, did he? Hell, I didn’t mean to put him on the spot. Maybe it’s private business. Between me and him. “Tell me later and then I’ll tell the kids,” I say. He looks relieved. Good, I think, ’cause things was getting a little too thick around here. All I know is that I’m home. I’m alive. And happy to see my kids and grandbabies. We need to break this up some. Lighten up. “Hey, did I mention that I dreamt about fish last night?”

“No,” Paris says, her hands pressed hard on her hips, like she can’t wait for Cecil to leave so she can go on in the kitchen and do her business.