“That’s great. I’m sure your books will make terrific movies.”

Dorothy wrote excellent children’s books and had won several prestigious awards. She was simply a failure as a human being.

“Mother’s here,” my sister said. “She wants to have a word with you. Now listen, it was so good to talk to you. We just don’t do it enough. Make sure Lucy eats something besides salads, and I warn you that she’ll exercise until it drives you mad. I worry that she’s going to start looking masculine.”

Before I could say anything; my mother was on the line.

“Why can’t you come down here, Katie? It’s sunny and you should see the grapefruit.”

“I can’t do it, Mother. I’m really sorry.”

“And now Lucy won’t be here, either? Is that what I heard? What am I supposed to do, eat a turkey by myself?”

“Dorothy will be there.”

“What? Are you kidding? She’ll be with Fred. I can’t stand him.”

Dorothy had gotten divorced again last summer. I didn’t ask who Fred was.

“I think he’s Iranian or something. He’ll squeeze a penny until it screams and has hair in his ears. I know he’s not Catholic, and Dorothy never takes Lucy to church these days. You ask me, that child’s going to hell in a hand basket.”

“Mother, they can hear you.”

“No they can’t. I’m in the kitchen by myself staring at a sink full of dirty dishes that I just know Dorothy expects me to do while I’m here. It’s just like when she comes to my house, because she hasn’t done a thing about dinner and is hoping I’ll cook. Does she ever offer to bring anything? Does she care that I’m an old woman and practically a cripple? Maybe you can talk some sense into Lucy.”

“In what way is Lucy lacking sense?” I asked.

“She doesn’t have any friends except this one girl you have to wonder about. You should see Lucy’s bedroom. It looks like something out of a science fiction movie with all these computers and printers and pieces and parts. It’s not normal for a teenage girl to live inside her brain all the time like that and not get out with kids her own age. I worry about her just like I used to worry about you.”

“I turned out all right,” I said.

“Well, you spent far too much time with science books, Katie. You saw what it did to your marriage.”

“Mother, I’d like Lucy to fly here tomorrow, if possible. I’ll make the reservations from my end and take care of the ticket. Make sure she packs her warmest clothes.

Anything she doesn’t have, such as a winter coat, we can find here.”

“She could probably borrow your clothes. When was the last time you saw her? Last Christmas?”

“I guess it was that long ago.”

“Well, let me tell you. She’s gotten bosoms since then. And the way she dresses? And did she bother to ask her grandmother’s advice before cutting off her beautiful hair? No. Why should she bother telling me that-“