like the plague—no pun intended—and he probably won’t be able to walk into any bar in town.”
“Yeah, but if he is guilty, at least when he shows up anywhere, people will know the fox is in the henhouse.”
“So much for innocent until proven guilty,” I said.
“You think he’s innocent?” Bob asked, sounding incredulous.
“Frankly, no, I don’t. But I’d just like to be absolutely sure before we start forming a lynch mob.”
“Agreed, but under the circumstances, better safe now than maybe sorry later.”
“Yeah, but that’s the tragic part—no one’s safe.”
*
Saturday afternoon we made a family project of making potato salad to take to Bob and Mario’s barbecue. While I’ve never been on Julia Childs’ Christmas card list, I do make a mean potato salad—a throwback to my single days when I’d make a huge batch and eat it all week long, and I learned that the flavor is always better if you make it the day before you start eating it. We let Joshua “help” by mixing the chopped onions, celery, and olives with a long wooden spoon in a deep pot to keep spillage to a minimum. Then, when we had it in the bowl and sprinkled with paprika, we let him arrange egg slices and whole olives on top.
We got to Bob and Mario’s at around two, to find Jake and Jared already there. Tim and Phil pulled into the drive right behind us. Joshua insisted on carrying in the potato salad. Mario held the screen door open for the five of us as we entered the kitchen.
“Look what I made!” Joshua announced to the others sitting around the kitchen table, then marched it over to Bob, who stood at the kitchen counter making hamburger patties.
Bob wiped his hands on a towel and took the bowl. “This looks great, Joshua,” he said. “And you made it yourself?”
Joshua nodded. “Yep,” he said, then looking quickly at Jonathan and me, added, “Almost.”
At that point, one of their two cats—I couldn’t tell if it was Butch or Pancake (long story)—made the mistake of walking into the room, and Joshua was off like a shot.
“Joshua!” Jonathan cautioned. “Take it easy!”
“That’s okay,” Mario said with a grin. “They can take care of themselves.” He put the potato salad into the fridge and took out beers for Tim, Phil, and me and a Coke for Jonathan. “I’ve got lemonade when Joshua’s ready.”
When Bob had finished making the hamburgers, we all moved out into the fenced-in backyard. I noticed the grill and the picnic table were already set up. Joshua had been reluctant to leave the cats, who were not allowed outside, but he soon became engaged in looking for the box tortoise that Mario assured him was somewhere in the yard.
*
As always, a great afternoon. A lot of catching up and laughing and stories and good food. Tim had made one of his Bavarian tortes that, as usual, disappeared in a matter of minutes. Everyone was in good spirits, and I noticed again with some relief that Jake appeared totally recovered from his bout with pneumonia.
While we’d been visiting him in the hospital, he had mentioned that he and his brother Stan were setting up a hunting trip. Jared, it seemed, had reluctantly agreed to go along, so they could all stay at his cabin.
“Why don’t we make it a group outing?” Jake suggested. “Any of the rest of you hunt?”
“I used to,” Bob said, “but I haven’t in years. I don’t even have a rifle anymore.”
“That’s okay,” Jake said. “Stan and I just bought two new Winchester 94s, so we’ve still got the old ones any of you would be welcome to use.”
“Well, thanks, but I don’t know…” Bob said.
“Hey, you wouldn’t even have to hunt. It would just be great for all of us to get out of the city for a weekend. Think about it.”
“It sounds like fun,” Jonathan agreed, “but I’d feel funny about leaving Joshua with someone for a whole weekend.”
“Ah, the joys of parenthood,” Jake teased, then said, “You can bring him
“Yeah, but if he is guilty, at least when he shows up anywhere, people will know the fox is in the henhouse.”
“So much for innocent until proven guilty,” I said.
“You think he’s innocent?” Bob asked, sounding incredulous.
“Frankly, no, I don’t. But I’d just like to be absolutely sure before we start forming a lynch mob.”
“Agreed, but under the circumstances, better safe now than maybe sorry later.”
“Yeah, but that’s the tragic part—no one’s safe.”
*
Saturday afternoon we made a family project of making potato salad to take to Bob and Mario’s barbecue. While I’ve never been on Julia Childs’ Christmas card list, I do make a mean potato salad—a throwback to my single days when I’d make a huge batch and eat it all week long, and I learned that the flavor is always better if you make it the day before you start eating it. We let Joshua “help” by mixing the chopped onions, celery, and olives with a long wooden spoon in a deep pot to keep spillage to a minimum. Then, when we had it in the bowl and sprinkled with paprika, we let him arrange egg slices and whole olives on top.
We got to Bob and Mario’s at around two, to find Jake and Jared already there. Tim and Phil pulled into the drive right behind us. Joshua insisted on carrying in the potato salad. Mario held the screen door open for the five of us as we entered the kitchen.
“Look what I made!” Joshua announced to the others sitting around the kitchen table, then marched it over to Bob, who stood at the kitchen counter making hamburger patties.
Bob wiped his hands on a towel and took the bowl. “This looks great, Joshua,” he said. “And you made it yourself?”
Joshua nodded. “Yep,” he said, then looking quickly at Jonathan and me, added, “Almost.”
At that point, one of their two cats—I couldn’t tell if it was Butch or Pancake (long story)—made the mistake of walking into the room, and Joshua was off like a shot.
“Joshua!” Jonathan cautioned. “Take it easy!”
“That’s okay,” Mario said with a grin. “They can take care of themselves.” He put the potato salad into the fridge and took out beers for Tim, Phil, and me and a Coke for Jonathan. “I’ve got lemonade when Joshua’s ready.”
When Bob had finished making the hamburgers, we all moved out into the fenced-in backyard. I noticed the grill and the picnic table were already set up. Joshua had been reluctant to leave the cats, who were not allowed outside, but he soon became engaged in looking for the box tortoise that Mario assured him was somewhere in the yard.
*
As always, a great afternoon. A lot of catching up and laughing and stories and good food. Tim had made one of his Bavarian tortes that, as usual, disappeared in a matter of minutes. Everyone was in good spirits, and I noticed again with some relief that Jake appeared totally recovered from his bout with pneumonia.
While we’d been visiting him in the hospital, he had mentioned that he and his brother Stan were setting up a hunting trip. Jared, it seemed, had reluctantly agreed to go along, so they could all stay at his cabin.
“Why don’t we make it a group outing?” Jake suggested. “Any of the rest of you hunt?”
“I used to,” Bob said, “but I haven’t in years. I don’t even have a rifle anymore.”
“That’s okay,” Jake said. “Stan and I just bought two new Winchester 94s, so we’ve still got the old ones any of you would be welcome to use.”
“Well, thanks, but I don’t know…” Bob said.
“Hey, you wouldn’t even have to hunt. It would just be great for all of us to get out of the city for a weekend. Think about it.”
“It sounds like fun,” Jonathan agreed, “but I’d feel funny about leaving Joshua with someone for a whole weekend.”
“Ah, the joys of parenthood,” Jake teased, then said, “You can bring him
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