her.

"I'm an old lady, you know that. You'll remember me when I go, won't you Art?"

This, too, is a ritual question that Art can't answer well enough no matter how
he practices. "Of course, Gran. But you'll be around for a good while yet!"

"When are you coming back to Toronto?" He'd ducked the question before, but
Gran's a master of circling back and upping the ante. *Now that we've
established my imminent demise...*

"Soon as I can, Gran. Maybe when I finish this contract. September, maybe."

"You'll stay here? I can take the sofa. When do you think you'll arrive? My
friends all want to see you again. You remember Mrs. Tomkins? You used to play
with her daughter Alice. Alice is single, you know. She has a good job, too --
working at an insurance company. Maybe she can get you a better health plan."

"I don't know, Gran. I'll *try* to come back after I finish my contract, but I
can't tell what'll be happening then. I'll let you know, OK?"

"Oh, Art. Please come back soon -- I miss you. I'm going to visit your mother's
grave today and put some flowers on it. They keep it very nice at Mount
Pleasant, and the trees are just blooming now."

"I'll come back as soon as I can, Gran. I love you."

"I love you too, Arthur."

"Bye, Gran."

"I'll call you once I speak to Betty about the chiropractor, all right?"

"All right, Gran." He is going to have to go to the chiropractor now, even
though his back feels as good as it has in years. His Gran will be checking up
on it.

"Bye, Arthur. I love you."

"Bye, Gran."

"Bye."

He shakes his head and holsters the comm back in his pants, then rocks back and
lies down on the rug, facing the ceiling, eyes closed. A moment later, the hem
of Linda's robe brushes his arm and she lies down next to him, takes his hand.

"Everything OK?"

"It's just my Gran." And he tells her about this date's significance.

"How did she die?"

"It was stupid. She slipped in the tub and cracked her skull on the tap. I was
off at a friend's place for the weekend and no one found her for two days. She
lived for a week on life support, and they pulled the plug. No brain activity.
They wouldn't let me into the hospital room after the first day. My Gran
practically moved in, though. She raised me after that. I think that if she
hadn't had to take care of me, she would have just given up, you know? She's
pretty lonely back home alone."

"What about your dad?"

"You know, there used to be a