door was open. Uncle Jacob was sitting up, his back
against two large, fluffy pillows. He wore a nightshirt,
and although he didn't look as small as he had in the
hospital bed, he still looked pale and quite a bit
thinner to me. Aunt Sara was sitting at his bedside
trimming his fingernails. It looked as if she had just
brushed his hair, too. If Uncle Jacob was happy about
being home, you couldn't tell by looking at him. He
didn't smile when we appeared.
"You're sure that engine's working fine now, eh
Cary?" he asked.
"Yes, Dad. She's purring better than she was." "Doubt that," he muttered. "I always took good
care of my boat."
Cary glanced at me to see if I read a reprimand
in Uncle Jacobs remark.
"Hello, Uncle Jacob," I said, refusing to be
ignored. "I'm happy you're home."
He grunted what sounded like a thank you, but
avoided looking at me.
"You send Roy around after work tomorrow,"
he told Cary. "I want a word with him."
"Sure. You need anything? We're just going to
take a walk on the beach."
"I have a list of groceries, Cary," Aunt Sara
said. "Oh."
"Let's do that first, Cary," I suggested. "Sure. Where's the list, Ma?"
"Right beside the tea kettle. Add a five-pound
bag of sugar, please," she said. Cary nodded and we
started out.
"You have money?" Uncle Jacob called. "Yes," Cary said.