(Photo: Cassie Cummins)



“Oh you remember? The last time we came here I forgot my purse. “

“I know, I grabbed it for you on the way back to the train.”

“What is this? Is this art? Is this a plant, or what?“

“I think it’s art. My grandson made something like this. I don’t think it was growing though. Might have been plastic or painted wood? I forgot my glasses that night and didn’t want anyone to know. The opening was much too crowded, couldn’t get that close anyhow.”

“This one’s growing, though. It’s like those ones Barb has in her front yard. Ficus? No, that’s not it. The ones she treats like her children. Can you believe she cried that early frost?”

“She’ll cry at the drop of a hat.”

“And I’m the fool for crying when Jean and the kids visit! It was just that one time, you know.”

“She’s just jealous; her family never visits. It’s a stretch even getting Patricia out here from the city, and you know they’ve always been close. Swear to god when I met them thought they were twins. “

“They don’t look anything alike!”

“It’s the eyes. “

“Oh, I see that”.

“Did Joe say he was going to pick us up here? I’m not taking the subway.”

“Who knows. I can call, but, you know.. the game.”

“It’s always the game. We can get a cab.”