Just a dollop of sour cream he had said.

John’s grandma scooped out three dollops in quick succession.

How fast were her wrists?

He couldn’t tell where his mashed potatoes started and where the sour cream ended.

She gave him a wink and licked the spoon.

Old people were always winking.

“You’ll be chubby again by the end of the holidays,” she said.

“Grandma, you’re always trying to get me as puffed up and round as my baby photos.”

“I liked you better back then.”


“I’m almost dead, John. You can’t hold the truth back any longer when you’re my age.”