Won’t you dear?”“I would be delighted,” I assured everyone.Karen tried to belay my mother’s plan to get us together, “Mrs. Taylor -William..., Please, It would be such a bother and I can’t impose on Arthur like that. I’m sure he has other plans.”My mother ignored her, “It’s no bother.” Mom took out her cell phone and dialed, “Hello, Charles. This is Agnes Taylor-Williams. Could I possibly get a reservation for two somewhere between seven and eight o’clock? It’s for my son Arthur and a young lady?. It’s very annoying and weird to me. Would you get rid of it please?’ He didn’t know what to do with it, deciding to put it in the garbage. ‘Break it up first,’ she said. He did, the noise of it breaking filled the room echoing with the sound of brittle bones snapping. He tossed the pieces into the garbage bag slapping his hands together, signaling accomplishment. He looked questioningly at her, still trying to understand. When she didn’t respond he asked why it bothered her. She started with:. More

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