“Well, we’re off to David’s,” my father said, then shook the bag. “Don’t spill the beans if he happens by.”
I followed him to a bedroom doorway, where he stopped and called, “David? David, it’s Robert.”
A man appeared at the door. A man I would never have picked out as my father’s brother.
He was stocky, with thick brown glasses, and his face looked puffy and pale.
But he threw his arms around my father’s chest and cried, “Wobbad! Yaw heew!”
“Yes, I am, little brother.” I followed them into the room and saw that the walls were covered in a collage of puzzles.
They’d been glued directly to the walls and even up on the ceiling! It was cozy and comfortable, and interesting.
I felt as though I’d entered a quilted cave. My father held his brother at arm’s length and said, “And look who I’ve brought along!”
For a split second David looked almost frightened, but then my father said, “It’s my daughter, Julianna.”
David’s face broke into a smile. “Ju-weee-an-na!” he cried, then practically tackled me with a hug.
I thought I was going to suffocate. My face was buried as he squeezed the air out of me and rocked from side to side.
Then with a giggle he let go and flopped into a chair. “Is mooy bwuf-day!”
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