t big meaty hands。 I suppose you'd notice his hands
regardless； but what makes you realize just how beefy
they are is his wedding ring。 That thing's never going to e off； and even though my
mother says that's how it should be； I think he ought to get it
cut off。 Another few pounds and that ring's going to amputate his finger。
When I went in to see him； those big hands of his were woven together； resting on the
newspaper in his lap。 I said； “Granddad？ You wanted to
see me？”
“Have a seat； son。”
Son？ Half the time he didn't seem to know who I was； and now suddenly I was “son”？ I sat in
the chair opposite him and waited。
“Tell me about your friend Juli Baker。”
“Juli？ She's not exactly my friend … ！”
“Why is that？” he asked。 Calmly。 Like he had prior knowledge。
I started to justify it； then stopped myself and asked； “Why do you want to know？”
He opened the paper and pressed down the crease； and that's when I realized that Juli
Baker had made the front page of the Mayfield Times。
There was a huge picture of her in the tree； surrounded by a fire brigade and policemen； and
then some smaller photos I couldn't make out very
well。 “Can I see that？”
He folded it up but didn't hand it over。 “Why isn't she your friend； Bryce？”
“Because she's …” I shook my head and said； “You'd have to know Juli。”
“I'd like to。”
“What？ Why？”