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"
He
slouched
out
,
a
small
boy
in
pajama
bottoms
with
feet
and
a
large
flannel
top
with
a
football
on
the
front
and
NEW
ENGLAND
PATRIOTS
written
on
the
back
.
Jack
’
s
typewriter
stopped
,
and
she
heard
Danny
’
s
hearty
smack
.
"
Night
,
Daddy
.
"
"
Goodnight
,
doc
.
How
’
d
you
do
?
"
"
Okay
,
I
guess
.
Mommy
made
me
stop
.
"
"
Mommy
was
right
.
It
’
s
past
eight
-
thirty
.
Going
to
the
bathroom
?
"
"
Yeah
.
"
"
Good
.
There
’
s
potatoes
growing
out
of
your
ears
.
And
onions
and
carrots
and
chives
and
-
"
Danny
’
s
giggle
,
fading
,
then
cut
off
by
the
firm
click
of
the
bathroom
door
.
He
was
private
about
his
bathroom
functions
,
while
both
she
and
Jack
were
pretty
much
catch
-
as
-
catch
-
can
.
Another
sign
-
and
they
were
multiplying
all
the
time
-
that
there
was
another
human
being
in
the
place
,
not
just
a
carbon
copy
of
one
of
them
or
a
combination
of
both
.
It
made
her
a
little
sad
.
Someday
her
child
would
be
a
stranger
to
her
,
and
she
would
be
strange
to
him
…
but
not
as
strange
as
her
own
mother
had
become
to
her
.
Please
don
’
t
let
it
be
that
way
,
God
.
Let
him
grow
up
and
still
love
his
mother
.
Jack
’
s
typewriter
began
its
irregular
bursts
again
.
