Greg ran into the kitchen, skidding across the floor until he bumped into the table. He jumped to one side and spun around twice, placing his hands on his hips and poking his elbows out to the side as if he were an eagle. “Mom, you’ll never believe what I saw. Never, go on, guess.”

 

Ellen finished rinsing the salad greens and tossed them in the spinning bowl on the draining board. She sighed, tried once to will the water to stop before angrily twisting the cold-water faucet. Finding nothing of interest in the neighbor’s yard outside the window, she reluctantly turned to her son.

 

“No, Gregory, I can’t imagine what you saw, but did you at least remember to close the backdoor when you came in and hang your coat on your special peg before running a 4-minute mile into the kitchen table?”

 

“Yeh, yeh, but go on, guess. I’ll give you a hint and I promise I’ll go back right away and hang up my coat.”

 

His mother folded one arm and supported her chin with her palm. She looked at the ceiling, pretending to rack her brain for an answer.

“OK, OK. I’ll give you a hint. You know Mr. Herman on the corner and his dog?”

“Yes, I know Mr. Herman and his dog. Well, what about them?”

“Well, that’s what you’re supposed to be guessing.”

“Then I’m guessing the dog did something crazy like tree Montescues’ cat.”

“No, not even close. Mrs. M never lets her cat out. And besides that, cat’s humongous. She’d scratch that wiener dog in half, in nothing flat, and then start on Mr. Herman. But you’re getting close. It’s something to do with Wally. He did a beauty this time. I’m thinking that Mr. Herman trains him that way on purpose. So go on, guess!”

 

“Well, G r e g o r y,” this time spacing out his name in exasperation. She now had a good idea where this was going, “I’m guessing you’re going to tell me where Wally did his business.”

 

“No fair. You must have seen it out the window. That’s cheating!”

 

“No. There’s nothing wrong with seeing something. But I’ve been in the kitchen for the last hour getting supper ready and Mr. Herman lives across the street. The only thing I can see out the kitchen window is the Allens’ backyard, and nothing ever happens there since their children are grown up and no longer living at home. You said so yourself, ‘boring.’”

“Well, OK, but you still haven’t guessed!”

“Must I?”

“Yes, that’s how the game is played. Well?”

“Well, then Wally did his number on the fire hydrant.”

“No, not this time. He does that all the time. That’s not even funny anymore. One more guess.”

“Well…on Mrs. Montescue’s lawn?”

Greg shook his head.

“No? OK, I give up. Where?”

“Well, Mr. Herman met the mailman, and they started talking. I was watching. And Wally was pulling on his leash like he always does, but Mr. Herman just yelled at him that he was busy talking with the mailman…”

“Gregory, that’s mail person! You know that.”

“Mailperson. So Wally got mad and picked up his leg and peed on the mailman’s – mailperson’s – shoe. Oh boy, you should have seen him dance and Mr. Herman turned every color of the rainbow yelling at Wally. It was so funny. I had to run away before I started laughing.”

 

“I guess it’s funny, but you should remember it’s not nice to laugh at another’s misfortune. Now, your father will be home in ten minutes. You go check on your coat and the backdoor then wash up and set the table. This time you can save your story for when your father puts you to bed. Now go…and no running in the house.”

 

Ellen stretched, her back hurt. She was in her second trimester and no longer nauseous. I was a teenager then but 30 isn’t that old. Maybe it’s all this stress. School and building out those dormers. Stan’s always busy, at work or working on the house. Promises it’ll be done way before I’m due but men and their projects always going on longer. I trust his father: “Paint will be dry before you get home from the hospital.” We’ll see.

 

“Greg, what are you doing?”

“Just finished hanging my coat, Mom. I peeked outside again. Wow, I’ll be able to see for miles from that window, even past the Allens’ house. And I bet if Mrs. M’s cat gets out and climbs a tree, I’ll be able to spot her and get a reward for finding her. I can hardly wait.”

 

“And I can hardly wait for you to set the table. Your father will be home any minute now. And after supper maybe the two of you can climb the stairs and work a little on your room.”

 

Gregory took two quick skips, “‘Sounds like a plan, Stan.’ You know that’s what they say when you figure out what to do. Neat how Dad’s name is Stanley. He laughs when I say that, says be careful not to say ‘Sounds like a plan, Stan, Stan’ since people might think I stutter. That’s funny. I’ll get our napkins out too. Are we having those burgers I saw in the refrigerator for dinner? Because then I can get the ketchup and mustard out. And your mother’s homemade pickles. I like them too. And what about dessert?”

 

“Gregory, don’t you ever slow down? You’re like a whirlwind sometimes.” Ellen put her hand on her stomach. “I’ll think your little sister-to-be wants to say hi? Come, you can put your hand on my stomach and say, ‘Hi.’ Then go to the bathroom and wash; I just heard your father pull into the driveway. You can finish setting the table when you get back.”

 

Gregory cleaned up after supper, scraping the dishes and putting them in the dishpan. Ellen had promised that he’d be promoted to chief dishwasher next September when he went into eighth grade, “It comes with an allowance.”

 

Stanley had made a similar promise about cutting the lawn. He griped when he was told apprentices didn’t get paid. “Besides, this is your room. But we’ll put in some extra shelves in your closet for your stuff and we can make a custom chair in the windowsill for Barry the Bear.”

 

He put the ketchup and mustard back in the refrigerator and poked his head into the living room saying that he was going to do his homework.

 

Ellen reminded him to take a shower before getting ready for bed and joined Stanley in the living room. He put his book down. “I’m too tired tonight to work on the dormer. It’s more sheet rock and noisy. I’ll be home early tomorrow and with Dad’s help we should be finished with the rough work by Sunday night. Mom said she’d bring over a casserole and salad by way of celebration. After that, smooth sailing – or at least quieter work. Toilet’s roughed in. Charlie said he could install the fixtures in a couple of weeks. We’re pretty much on schedule.”

 

“I’m glad. Our little girl is excited too. And Greg said he’d leave a couple of his bears in his old room ‘so my sister doesn’t get scared at night.’ I’m still not sure about a name for her. And don’t tell me we should just put all our names in a hat and pick one out. Knowing you, you’ll just call her Hattie.”

 

“I checked on the internet. Hattie’s short for Harriet and it originally meant someone who owned an estate or home. So, it fits when you think about it – we got a home for our daughter. I kind of like it. What if I promise never to call her Hattie?”

 

“I’m too tired to think.” Ellen stretched out on the couch, placing her head in Stanley’s lap. He stroked her hair and went back to his Swedish mystery.

 

It was 8 when Greg announced he was taking a short shower and going to bed. Stanley put his finger to his lips and mouthed, “Mom’s sleeping. Pleasant dreams, son. We love you.”

 

Ten minutes later he when he heard Gregory come out of the bathroom, he woke Ellen. “Greg’s done in the bathroom, Honey. You want, I can help you get ready for bed. Been a long day for everyone.”

 

Ellen stood up carefully. “Hmm.” She stretched and pulled her shoulders back. She smiled and kissed Stanley. “You know, I dreamt I was two inches taller. Don’t stay up too late reading.” She walked proudly to the hall and turned, “You know, I think I like Harriet.”