It was late morning, ten before twelve, hot outside. Sunlight slid down the balcony door and lolled in a silver pool beneath the glass, starving the room of color.
Honey? Harrison said. Hon? Where’s my slacks?
Why are you yelling? Grace said. I’m in the bathroom, not Texas.
The gray ones? With the pockets? What time we meeting her?
Twelve-thirty, Grace said.
Goddamnit!
Jim!
Dadammit, Florence said.
See what I mean, Jim?
Jeez Louise, he said. Sorry already.
Who is Louise? Florence said.
We need to go, Harrison said.
The toilet flushed, Grace washed her hands and stepped out of the bathroom.
The diner is just around the corner, she said. Florence, get off the bed. Your slacks are hanging up in the bathroom. Florence! How many times do I have to tell you not to bounce on the bed?
But I’m bouncing, Mommy.
Off!
She slid off the mattress on her tummy. Harrison went into the bathroom, picked up his slacks, and came out.
Listen, Duckie, he said. Could you do Daddy a special favor? I need my watch from the table—he bent down—can you see it? Think you could get it for me?
Florence nodded and ran around the bed to fetch it.
We’re gonna be late, he said to Grace.
Then put on your slacks and find your shoes. And redo that tie. And stop worrying.
Here’s your watch, Daddy!
Well, hey, thanks Duck! he said. He kissed the top of her head and slid the heavy piece over his wrist, fixing it underneath.
Daddy gave me a kiss! Florence said.
Yes he did, Grace said. Now, come on, Duck, we need to find your shoes too. Jim, pass me your tie.
Harrison dressed and Grace handed back his tie, neatly knotted. He pulled it over his head and combed his hair in front of the mirror.
Right, he said. Let’s go.
Turn the light out, Grace said. I got the key.
I need to pee Mommy, Florence said.
Goddamnit, Harrison said.
Jim! How many times? Sweetie, do you really need to go? Can you hold it?
Florence shook her head.
Jim, go downstairs, Grace said. We’ll meet you in the lobby.
The diner was busy, full of families on vacation like them. Red plastic tables curled around the kitchen in a half circle; tall windows looked over a bright blue pool, its surface gilded with broken sunlight.
Maybe we should have chosen someplace else? Grace said, looking around.
It’s fine, Harrison said.
Yeah?
She’ll love it.
Sure is noisy, Grace said.
She don’t hear too good, Harrison said.
That’s why I’m worried.
It’ll be fine, he said.
Florence was holding her mother’s hand. I’m tired, she said.
Do we just sit down? Grace said.
Guess so, Harrison said. Look, over there.
They walked over to an empty table, nested in a horseshoe-shaped booth, and slid in.
Who is coming? Florence said, sitting between them.
An old friend of Daddy’s, Grace said.
Her name is Annie, Harrison said. She’s very old.
Old? Florence said, scrunching up her nose.
She’s eighty-one years old, he said.
She’s very old, Florence said.
Yes she is, Grace said, but it’s rude to say so.
Your mother’s right, he said.
I’m very old, Florence said, resting her head on the table.
Jim, that’s her, isn’t it? Grace said.
Harrison looked up toward the door, smiled, and said, yes it is.
He slid out from behind the table to greet her.
Annie walked slowly, with a stick. She was short, hair sewn up in a tight bun, her dress a deep indigo. When she saw Harrison, she smiled, dark skin folding softly like a newspaper.
Jimmy, she said. They embraced. Several people at nearby tables stared. Harrison ignored them and brought her back on his arm.
Gracie, Florence; this is Aunt Annie, he said.
You’re very old, Florence said.
Florence! Grace said. I am so sorry, Annie.
Annie laughed.
Don’t be, she said. She’s a precious one.
Annie smiled at Florence and said, and who might you be?
Florence hid her face in her mother’s arm. Annie chuckled.
I’m only teasin you, Annie said. Your daddy told me all about you!
It’s so great to finally meet you, Grace said.
It sure is good to meet you too, Annie said. And little Jimmy here! My goodness! Ain’t he turned out handsome?
That’s a matter of opinion, Grace said.
Haven’t seen your daddy since he was nine years old, Annie said.
Why are you a funny color? Florence said.
Jesus, Harrison said.
That’s enough, Florence, Grace said.
That’s all right, Annie said, let her be; nothin more beautiful or true than what comes from the mouth of a child.
Annie dipped her head toward Florence and said, I do look different to you, don’t I; but you look different to me!
She chuckled and continued.
God made us all different colors and shapes! Be pretty borin if we was all lookin the same now, wouldn’t it?
Florence nodded.
Aunt Annie was a good friend of my mother—my mommy—Duck, Harrison said.
Your grandma was a very beautiful woman, Florence, Annie said. You have her nose.
Her nose?!
Yes. And I miss her a lot, Annie said.
Where is she? Florence said.
Harrison glanced up at his wife.