Reborn

2

"Do you think she's all right?" Carol asked Jim as they stepped out onto cold, wintry East Twentieth Street. "Her face looked kind of strained to me."

She dearly loved that pudgy little woman with her twinkling blue eyes and apple cheeks. Grace was the only family she had left.

Jim shrugged. "Maybe it was me. Or maybe living with that decor is affecting her."

"Oh, Jim."

"Really, Carol, even though she doesn't like me, I think Grace is a sweet old lady. However, she's a paradigm of religiosity, and maybe it's getting to her. Look at that place! It's loaded with guys nailed to crosses! Disembodied hands folded in prayer rising out of the counters. And not one—but six pictures of bleeding hearts on the wall."

"You know very well that's the Sacred Heart." She fought a smile away from her lips. She couldn't let Jim get rolling. Once he got started, there was no stopping him. "Now cut it out! Seriously, Jim. I'm worried about her. She didn't look well."

He looked at her more closely. "You really are worried, aren't you? Come to think of it, she did look ready to jump out of her skin. Maybe we should go back up."

"No. I don't think she wanted company today. Maybe I'll give her a call tomorrow to see how she's doing."

"Good idea. Maybe we should have insisted on taking her out for a drink at least."

"You know she doesn't drink."

"Yeah, but I do, and right now I could use a drink. Two drinks. Many drinks!"

"Don't overdo it tonight," she warned, sensing that he was in the mood for some serious celebrating.

"I won't."

"I mean it, Jim. One word about warts later on and we're on our way home."

"Warts?" he said, all shock and wounded dignity. "I never talk about warts!"

"You know you do—when you've had one too many."

"Well, maybe. But drinking has nothing to do with it."

"You never mention them when you're sober."

"The subject never comes up!"

"Let's eat," she sighed, hiding a smile.