“It can’t be so bad, otherwise your grandmother would have telegraphed.”
“I guess you’re right. He was never sick a day until that attack four years ago. A walk with him or a talk was an adventure.” She stopped, embarrassed. “You must be tired hearing me speak of him so much.”
“You know very well that isn’t so. Actually since I’ve known you and have heard you talk about grandparents, aunts and cousins, I’ve had a longing to be part of a big, interesting family.”
Judy nodded. “It is fun when the clan gets together. Grandmother’s house can expand like an accordion. My cousins and I usually beg to sleep overnight. Couches miraculously open into double beds, cots are hauled from the attic. It’s bedlam, really, but we love it. On Thanksgiving Day two turkeys are necessary to feed the hungry mob. The Seder, the Passover Feast, is unforgettable—dignified and joyous. The story of the Passover, the Exodus from Egypt is especially interesting today—the songs are fun and such food—until you could burst!” She smiled at Karl.
“You’ve been to a Seder, haven’t you?”
“Not for a long time. Not since—My mother is sad at such times.”
“Next year you and your mother will come to us,” Judy said with warmth. “We’d love it. After all, a table that seats twenty-five can just as easily have two more.”
After a moment she said, “A big family’s pretty wonderful but when you come down to it, it’s your own parents that matter. You have to live with them!” She smiled, “and they with us! I’ve discovered in the last year or two that parents don’t understand their children, at least in the growing-up stage. I’m not speaking just for myself. Girls at school have talked to me and they admit there’s a sort of undeclared war between them and their parents.”
“What do kids that age have to complain about? I think you exaggerate. Small tensions exist everywhere. Parents are only human.”
“I don’t exaggerate, Karl. Believe me, there’s always something to argue about! If it isn’t clothes, and their taste is awful, then it’s money! You’re either a spendthrift or a miser. If you happen to hate math, they think you should make a special effort and deliver A grades. Your reading is either childish or far beyond your years. They disapprove of your best friend and look aghast when at the age of fourteen you wish to go to a party to which boys are invited!” Judy shook her head solemnly. “I tell you, either they interfere and make your life miserable or ignore you altogether!”