We stepped out of the elevator, and in a few minutes we were standing in the doorway surveying Charles’ boyhood room. I’d seen it before, when he’d given me a tour of the house, but only briefly. There was a chest of drawers, a double bed, a small desk, and built-in bookshelves along one wall.
“Gran, I’ve just had an idea.”
“Yes?”
I changed the subject. “First, I have to ask, do you mind me calling you Gran?”
“Of course not, I think it’s kind of sweet.”
“You didn’t see Charles’ and Richard’s faces the first time I did it. They looked a bit shell-shocked when I said it—I guess they were expecting a reaction from you.”
She chuckled and said, “Then they weren’t using their brains. They both know me well enough to know that even if I had been displeased, no one in the room would have bee
