“Drive carefully, precious cargo aboard,” his father-in-law says through the car window and he says “Horace, don’t worry, I’m a good driver and I never take chances with the kids in the car,” and Horace says “You shouldn’t take them ever. You’re a family man with terrific responsibilities now so you should always drive as if they’re with you,” and he says “That’s what I meant — thanks for everything, you’ve both been wonderful,” and Horace says “And thank you for bringing your family — drive carefully, precious cargo aboard,” and he says “You bet, no high speeds, you can count on it; I don’t care how long it takes to get there,” and starts the car, waits thirty seconds less than he usually does for the engine to warm up — doesn’t want to keep looking back and forth at Horace and smiling and waving for him to go inside — checks the right side mirror a few seconds longer than he usually does when no cars are coming, so Horace will see how careful he is, and pulls out of the parking spot. “Wave to Grandpa,” he says and kids turn to the window and say “Goodbye, Grandpa, goodbye,” and he waves without looking as he drives up the block.
“You bring any fresh bagels, Daddy?” Margo says and he says “Did I bring fresh bagels? Did I hear someone say ‘Did Daddy bring fresh bagels?’ Does Daddy ever forget to bring fresh bagels for long trips?” and Margo says “What kind you get?” and he says “Oh gosh, I forgot the bagels. The poppyseed, sesame, blueberry, jalapeño—” and Margo says “I don’t like those kinds,” and he says “Good thing, for I only bought chocolate and plain, plenty of chocolate and plain, plus a coupla garlic in their own bag since you can’t stand their stink on the chocolate and plain, and in that same ‘own’ bag one everything bagel for me. But too much about bagels already. Your bagel bag’s under your seat next to my briefcase if neither’s been moved. Split one with Julie,” and she says “I want one for myself,” and he says “Then offer the bag to her — Julie, sweetie, want a bagel?” and Margo says “Why you being so nice to us now and when nobody’s around?” and he says “Why do you say that? Julie, you want a bagel?” and Julie says “I just want to look outside. The city’s so gray. I only like traveling on sunny days. That makes the trip happier. But when the day’s gray it makes everything gray and there’s nothing more grayer than a gray city on a gray day,” and he says “Little quiz: Which came first, the gray city or gray day and, as a bonus question for extra points, how’d it get across the road?” and Julie says “I’m glad I don’t live here. With all the gray I feel something awful’s going to all of a suddenly happen,” and he says “Margo, don’t offer her a gray bagel,” waits for a laugh, is none, says “Mommy and I did — lived here — for years. As kids, public-schooled all the way, then when we met and got married, and we turned out healthy, stealthy and okay — we had you two wonderful girls at least,” and Margo says “Phooey flattery, Daddy; you won’t pick our spirits with that,” and he says “Okay, I won’t correct you, but listen: people who don’t live in this city—” and she says “We know, you told and told us: ‘they can’t appreciate it,’” and he says “And the day’ll get brighter, I promise, though we’ll first see it on the road. The weatherman calls for sunny cheerful weather on the whole Northeast coast,” and she says “The weatherman said ‘cheerful’? That’s nice, I like that kind of prediction. What will he mean when he says ‘cool’?” and he says “Boy, are you ever getting tuned into life and its meanings. Both, but if I can say this without either of you thinking I’m underrating or deprecating the other, right now Margo more,” and Julie says “That’s not nice,” and Margo says “She’s right, you shouldn’t choose anybody,” and he says “You see? I fail at honesty, fail at fibbing, fail at any imaginative mix of the two and whatever else is left. I’m sorry, and whatever I say now to help my case will I’m sure be taken unfavorably, so, since you have your bagels, books, games, dolls and each other, I’ll just dummy up and drive,” and Margo says “Daddy?” and he says nothing, something about the things he has to do when he gets home is coming into his head and he wants it to continue, and she says “Daddy…Daddy…please say something, you don’t have to go that far,” and he says “Really, sweetheart, I was just using that excuse so I could think for a while, because talking, thinking, the two things at once, it’s hard,” and she says “Then that’s all right.”