it because he insisted it was a quick way to learn the
history of the world.”
“You’re kidding!” Judith cried.
Joe hit the mute button on the TV’s remote control;
Bill didn’t take his eyes off the screen.
“Does Aunt Deb remember anything about the
book?” Judith asked, aware that her aunt’s memory
was much keener than her mother’s.
“Well . . .” Renie made a face. “She admits she
skimmed it. My dad enjoyed it because there were
some obscure facts he learned and some misconceptions he had that the book cleared up. I gather C. Douglas Carp meticulously researched his material.
Anyway, that sort of thing appealed to Dad. Mom
didn’t give a hoot, and thought the story itself was
silly, and she didn’t like all the wars.” Her gaze shot to
the TV, where London was being bombed into what
looked like charcoal clumps.
“Oh.” Judith was disappointed. “At least we know
that somebody besides Bruno read the book.”
“There was one other thing,” Renie said. “You know
my mother—she’s like you, coz. Her main interest in
life is people.”
Judith smiled faintly. It was a great irony that in
many ways, Judith’s personality was more like Aunt
Deb’s. Conversely, Renie had some of the same traits
as Gertrude. Reacting to Renie’s comment, Bill
groaned, but Joe gave a thumbs-up signal. Both men
felt they had a cross to bear when it came to their
mothers-in-law.
“So?” Judith prodded.
“So,” Renie began, “Mom had an old friend, Hattie
McDonough, who married a man named Carp. In fact,
I guess she married him back in the late twenties, about
the time that my folks read
since Carp isn’t a common name, Mom wanted to
know if Hattie’s husband and C. Douglas were related.
Hattie—who, by the way, died a few years ago—said
they were cousins. Bernie Carp—the one Hattie married—was from the Midwest. Iowa or Nebraska, Mom
thought. Alas, Mr. Bernie Carp turned out to be a
drinker, and Hattie divorced him before World War
Two,
the TV screen with a scathing look.
Judith clapped her hands together. “Damn! Why
didn’t I think of this before? I’m going on-line to find
out about Bruno’s background. If,” she added on a note
of doubt, “I can figure out how to do it.”
“I’ll do it,” Renie volunteered. “I’m semigood at
finding stuff like that. But only after I eat most of this
