should put instead.
“Duane Ostrem,” I said. “Her grandfather.”
There was a pause on the line.
“Oh, that’ll be nice,” she said.
And then, carefully, because it’s a small town and she wasn’t born yesterday: “Is everything all right at home, Jodi?”
“Everything’s fine,” I said. “Kaylee asked for her grandpa.”
That was true.
It just wasn’t all of it.
Wednesday night after supper, I called Dad.
He picks up on the fourth ring. Every single time. The phone hangs on the wall in the kitchen, and his recliner is
