The house phone rang. Now, Brandon and I had both had cell phones, but they were long gone, left behind, stolen, ruined, whatever. And Ducky was too old-fashioned. And Elvis had one in his car. So the house phone rang. There was one in the kitchen, one in the parlor, and one here, behind Ducky, on a small table. That’s one. Two, the kitten appeared to levitate, as if by magic, leaping up from the floor and landing on the table, in the bowl of potato salad. Ploop. And three, there came a pounding on the door (yeah I know I sound like Edgar Allan Poe, don’t I?) We all jumped and some of us shrieked a little. Me, I burst out laughing and was busy pointing at the kitten.
Elvis blurted out a bad word. Then several more. Then he turned beet red and really got to swearing. I was listening closel
