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y. They use the idiot box as a babysitter. They don't want to spend all that much time teaching and instructing their children. They're too selfish."

She spoke about the fictitious cousins as if she really believed they had existed. It made me feel as if I were an actor in a play, especially when she wanted me to reinforce everything she said. After all, it was still a drama we had to perform for Mr. Fletcher,

"You remember how they were when they visited us a year ago, Noble? Remember?" She waited for my reply.

I nodded. "Yes. Mama."

"Right," she said. pleased. And then. before Mr. Fletcher's car pulled up in front of our house, she declared. "He's here. Just be yourself and don't make him feel a bit uncomfortable."

Don't make him feel uncomfortable? Was she blind? Couldn't she see how I was shaking inside, or did she simply want to ignore it?

I heard the car door shut. Baby Celeste looked up and away from the television set. "Shut off the television and get her up to go into the dining room," Mama instructed. She went to the door before Mr. Fletcher had time to use the knocker,

"Welcome," I heard her cry.

I lifted Baby Celeste into my arms, took a deep breath, and walked into the hallway just as they finished embracing. She turned to us.

"You remember my son. Noble." she said. "Yes, of course. Hi. Noble," Mr. Fletcher said.

If any painful memories were clouding his brain, he kept them well hidden. He smiled warmly at me. It had been nearly three years now since I had really looked at him. His reddish-brown hair had some gray streaks. I didn't recall that. but I did recall how similar his build was to Elliot's. He looked a few inches more than six feet, slimmer perhaps. I couldn't forget those turquoise eyes. eyes Elliot had inherited, Baby Celeste's were more a cerulean with tiny green specs. Like Elliot, Mr. Fletcher had a slight cleft and even some fine freckles about the bridge of his nose and across the crests of his cheeks.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," Baby Celeste said without any coaxing. She had a wide, happy smile. too.

Mr. Fletcher laughed. "What a delightful child. I guess she feels at home here already."

Mama nodded. "She makes it easy for us. You'll be amazed at how sweet and loving a personality she has. Come in, come in."

She closed the door and I stepped back. He smiled at me again.

"Let me show you some of the house. I've been doing some redecorating." Mama told him. "Noble, would you get the baby situated in the dining room. Well be right there."

"Yes. Mama."

"Yes, this is nice." Mr. Fletcher declared as soon as he looked into the living room. "The piano looks like a real antique."

"It is, but I keep it tuned. I'll play something for you later,- I heard her promise him.

I brought Baby Celeste into the dining room and set her in her booster chair. I could hear them talking as they walked through the downstairs. Occasionally. Mama's laughter floated back.

"I thought I had an interesting old house, but this place is fascinating," he told her in the hallway.

We think so. We always did," she told him.

"Well" Mr. Fletcher said, stepping into the dining room with her. "this is absolutely beautiful. What a nice table. I'm overwhelmed. Sarah."

"It's nothing." Then, indicating the chair beside me, she said, "Here is where you should sit."

He nodded. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Yes,' she said. "Enjoy the meal."

He laughed. "I don't expect that to be very difficult," he said, and turned to me. I couldn't help cringing inside but his face was full of warmth and friendliness.

"You've gotten pretty tall, Noble. Your mother is very proud of the work you do around here. too. Your ears probably were itching all the time she's been with me."

Mama smiled, "Dave's grandmother, it seems, was full of superstitions and old ideas."