” “What ball?” The question was rhetorical. She says that everyone in the house makes too much noise, my Dad snores, and that when the house is empty, the traffic noise is nearly deafening. Still, I'm glad she didn't accept my invitation to join us. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. ’” She played “If I Were a Rich Man,” adding syrupy trills and flourishes at every phrase. ” “We will go together,” she answered. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome.
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