At the last minute, Mary Anne solved the problem of accommodation by suggesting that she and George spend the night in the home of her Aunt Grace. She telephoned from a booth at the bus station.
"How old is she?" George asked.
Mary Anne shushed him. "It’s ringing. She’s eighty-five."
"Hello?"
"Aunt Grace, it’s Mary Anne." She grinned at George and twisted a strand of hair around her finger. "My friend and I are in town. We’re coming to visit."
"You’re in town dear?"
"Yeah. We’re at the bus station. Can you believe it? I think we’ll catch a taxi from here."
"Ask her if she’s got food," George said. His combat boot left a black smear where he kicked the wall. "Tell her I’m starving."
"Grace, could you have lunch ready when we get there. We’ve been travelling for like twelve hours and we’re so famished."
"Yes, yes. Of course dear. I’ll make sandwiches."
"That’d be good. And Grace, George and I are vegetarians. So no meat."
"I have some roast chicken."
Mary Anne rolled her eyes. "That’d be meat, wouldn’t it?"
"Tell her to order a pizza," George said. He glared at a man who waited to use the telephone. "Tell her I like black olives."
"Grace? Forget the sandwiches. Just order us a vegetarian pizza. Extra large with lots of black olives." Mary Anne tugged on the sleeve of George’s denim jacket and mouthed the word "soda".
He nodded. "Root beer."
"And two root beers," Mary Anne continued. "Make mine diet. And ask them to deliver the pop chilled ‘cause we can’t stand it warm. Can you handle that?"
"Yes, yes of course." There was a pause. "How long are you staying dear? Are you on your way over now?"
Mary Anne covered the mouth of the receiver with her hand. "She wants to know how long we’re staying."
George groaned. "Tell her you don’t know."
"Just order the pizza," Mary Anne said. "I’ll explain everything when we get there." With a giggle, she hung up the receiver.
