Macon continued practicing with Edward every day, and thought that Edward was slowly getting more obedient. His family was not so hopeful. ‘What about when you start traveling again? ’
Rose asked. ‘You’re not leaving him with me.’
It was hard for Macon to imagine starting his travels again. Sometimes he wished he could stay in his plaster. I fact, he wished it covered him from head to foot. People would knock on the plaster wall. ‘Macon? You in there?’ Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. No one would ever know.
One evening Julian stopped by with some papers for Macon’s New York trip, Rose offered him some coffee, which he accepted eagerly, much to Macon’s annoyance, who was sure Julian was hoping for some Leary oddities.
‘What do you do for a living, Charles?’ Julian asked, when they were all sitting down in the living room.
‘I make bottle caps.’
‘Bottle caps! Is that a fact! And Rose? Do you work?’
‘Yes, I do,’ Rose said, in her serious way. ‘I work at home; I keep house for the boys.’
The telephone rang. Since Macon’s return home, the Leary had got into the habit of not answering the phone, but there was a chance this was porter, who had gone out to buy a hammer and who often got lost, even in his own neighborhood.
They discussed it urgently.
‘What do you think?’
‘But he knows we wouldn’t answer.’
‘Yes, he’d surely call a neighbor instead.’
‘On the other hand . . .’
It was Julian’s fascinated expression that decided Macon. He picked up the receiver. ‘Leary,’ he said.
It was Sarah. ‘I think we should talk,’ she said to Macon.