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“Fine. Forty-eight.”
“Getting closer—just add about forty years and some change.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”
I go over and kiss him on the cheek. “But age is just a number. And you will always be young at heart.”
“Thanks, sweetie.”
“Plus, you live with two fabulous young women. I assume our youthful energy will rub off on you.”
And then I think about other ways to spend my youthful energy.
Chapter seventeen
Dean - The Plan is out, Sort of
It’s still storming when I wake up the following morning, but much less so than last night. Now, only a light rain is rapping above me. It was strange sleeping in that house, but the weather made it impossible for us to drive back to the city.
Nevertheless, I get up to make a pot of coffee, and in the process, I manage to wake Coral up, who was sleeping in the living room on a pile of blankets she got from the trunk of her car.
“How’d you sleep?”
“Oh, you know. I’ve had worse beds.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish. The beds at camp are like literally sleeping on wooden slabs.”
“Ah, camp. I see. I was wondering if after all of these years I was going to learn that you had a stint in prison or something.”
I laugh but note that there is not even a smile on her face.
“Uh…”
“Well, I have spent a night in jail.”
“What? There’s no way.”
“Yeah huh.”
“For what? Walking in the street or something dumb like that?” I can’t imagine the sweet, nurturing mother before me doing anything wrong to anybody.
“I was protesting in college and refused to leave when the cops demanded us to.”
I sigh in relief. “That’s not so bad.”
“Maybe not. But it was still traumatic.”
“I’m sure. I’m not discounting that. I was just a little terrified for a second there that you did something more violent.”
“Of course not.”
“That’s what I figured. That’s why I was so surprised. Did they end up charging you with anything?”
“Disturbing the peace.”
“What were you protesting about, anyway?”
