Stephanie called. "Grandma," she said, "I'm just calling to let you know I'm okay."
"What happened, dear? You're pregnant!"
"No! I'm not pregnant."
"Your car exploded then?"
"No! Why do people always suspect my car exploding? Jeez. My car hasn't exploded that often… Someone shot a firebomb into my apartment. You'll see it on TV. Everyone's okay."
I had instant daydreams about lobbing a firebomb back into the vandal's house. I could do it, too. I would be a good firebomber. I could get that sonofabitch.
Heaven help us when Helen finds out. She will be ironing for a week.