Mother’s Excitement Over Father’s Old Sweetheart. By Bess Streeter Aldrich

“Checkers!” Mother breathed but the one word, but the ingredients of which it was composed were incredulity, disgust, merriment, and several dozen others.

Then she laughed, a bubbling, deliciously girlish laugh, and The Thing relaxed its hold on her heart, turned up its toes, and died.

Surreptitiously, Mother reached down and pulled off the expensive suede shoes. “Now,” she announced, “there’s one grateful bunion in the world.”

Then she fixed herself for the long ride to the west. “Henry,” she laid a plump hand on Father’s arm, “you are such a comfort to me. Won’t it be nice to get home and settle down to being a grandfather and a grandmother?”

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