Bernard got out of his car and pasted on his newly adopted signature smile. He had even practiced it in the mirror the other day, and he could see that he was getting better at it.

“Two months and three days to go now,” he mused as he stepped on the porch, raising his hand to press the doorbell, then remembering that he had stopped doing that already.

He twisted the knob and found it unlocked. “Well,” he thought, and he entered.

Grandma was seated in the living room telling a story to Emma, who was listening with rapt attention while trying hard to keep her eyes open.

“You are...