A little girl answers. The operator breaks in and Rabbit inserts three minutes’ worth of quarters. He says, “Hi, Judy. It’s Grandpa.”

“Hi, Grandpa,” she says very calmly. Perhaps nothing of last night’s revelation has filtered down to her yet. Or perhaps children this young are so innocent of what adulthood involves that nothing surprises them.

“How’s it going?” he asks.

“O.K.”

“You looking forward to school starting next week?”

“Kind of. Summer gets kind of boring.”

“How’s Roy? Is he bored by summer too?”

“He’s so stupid he doesn’t know what boring is. He’s been put down for his nap now but is still bawling. Mommy’s flipping out.” Since Harry seems stuck for a response, she volunteers, “Daddy’s not here, he’s over at the lot.”

“That’s O.K., I’d just as soon talk to your mommy actually. Could you get her for me? Judy,” he impulsively adds, before the child can leave the phone.

“Yeah?”

“You study hard, now. Don’t you worry about those kids who think they’re so much. You’re a very lovely girl and everything will come to you if you wait. Don’t force it. Don’t force growing up. Everything will be fine.”

This is too much to try to cram into her. She is only nine. Ten more years before she can go west like Mim and break out. “I know,” Judy says with a sigh, and perhaps she does.