“Only when it’s returned, Beth. Lenore’s kind of drifted away from our boy.”
“I don’t believe it. It’s all Netta’s doing! My! I wish I could talk some sense in her head!”
“Still?” He chuckled. “After twenty-odd years of trying?”
“Netta’s Netta. Too ambitious. Not so bad other ways.” Beth sighed a little and tried the boiling potatoes with a fork.
“Ready?” he asked eagerly.
“Heavens no! Half hour till supper, and you know it. They have to be mashed and quick-baked, still. He’s worried about something that has to do with the Air Force, too.”
Henry followed the transition without difficulty. “Chuck’s in Intelligence now, Mother.
Guess he knows quite a few worrisome things. He has responsibility—with all these air exercises going on.
“Shake the plaster off the attic someday, those jet planes will. Charles takes things slowly the way you do, Henry.” She paused, thought, amended. “The way you do— sometimes. He’s going to be a real long while getting used to the fact that Lenore Bailey is marrying Kit Sloan, not Charles Conner.”
“Is she? You sure?”