That night at dinner, Hawkeye, Calla, and I went up to the cafe.

"This has been a very interesting day," I said as I cut my steak.

"I'm quite glad we got away from the Harmony Homemakers," said Calla. "If I wouldn't have a record player in my room, I would go insane."

"I never thought I would have a daughter who would like classical music," Hawkeye said. "It was like Charles's record player had come back to haunt me."

"Except Charles didn't play his music at such an...interesting speed," I pointed out. "Michelle's records will never be the same."

"Hey, yeah, am I ever going to meet the 4077th people?" asked Calla.

I looked at Hawkeye. "I've lost touch of most of them."

"I visited B.J. in California last summer," said Hawkeye, "and we had a reunion in Missouri in 1963. Margaret tried to reach you, but all the letters came back marked 'return to sender'."

"That was the year that I visited Italy," I said. South Dakota was getting to me, so Calla and I left during the summer. "I stayed for a few months, so that was probably why she couldn't reach me. Mother probably sent the letters back. She has a thing about mail from unknown people. How was everyone?"

"They're great," Hawkeye answered. "Charles got married to a woman named Katherine, and they have two kids named Arnie and Theresa. Theresa's an exact copy of her father. I thought that her eyes would fall out of her sockets when she saw the cows."

I chuckled. "And Margaret?"

Hawkeye nodded and took a drink of water. "She's fine."

I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. "What about Klinger?"

"Five kids--Mark, Jake, Katra, Rianna, and Nancy."

"Katra?" I repeated.

"He says it's an old Lebanese name," said Hawkeye.

"What about Peg and B.J.?" I asked.

"They adopted a little girl from Korea named Rose."

"Oh, that's so sweet." I remembered how B.J. had gotten attached to a Korean family just before I left.

I was going to ask about Colonel Potter when the McGilicuttys and their four screaming children entered, causing any normal conversation impossible.

XXX

We got home at ten-thirty that night, because Calla had insisted on watching the MiGilicuttys get into a fight. She almost got hit in the head with some flying chicken nuggets, and Hawkeye and I had to restrain her from killing the three-year-old.

"I. Hate. Children," she ennunciated as we went into the house. "Hate. Hate. Hate. With a vengeance."

Hawkeye was laughing so hard he had to sit down on a chair. "When you...you got up and started over to that little kid...I thought his eyes would...pop out of his sockets!"

"I wouldhave shoved the chicken nugget up his nose if you hadn't stopped me. And by the way, Grandma's gonna kill you. She's worked on that swan for a month."

Hawkeye leaped up. "Oops." He gingerly lifted up Mother's needlepoint.

That was all it took for us to start laughing again.

"Okay, shh, shh," I hissed. "We have to be quiet or Mother will come down here and we'll get a lecture on how to entertain houseguests properly."

I shoved the two of them upstairs and gave Hawkeye a quick tour.

"This is my parents' room--be quiet, they wake up if you breathe too loudly--, this is the bathroom, here's my room with Elliot and Michelle sleeping in it--don't worry about waking them up, they could sleep through a tornado--, here's the bathroom, Calla's room, don't trip over the cot--and here's your room."

I gasped for breath. "Got all that?'

Hawkeye nodded.

"Well," I said. "Good night, sleep tight. Don't let Elliot's bread crumbs bite."

"I thought you changed the sheets," said Calla.

"They lurk."

As Hawkeye went into his room, I sat down on the cot and sighed.

"Mom?" Calla asked. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, me? I'm fine." I forced a smile. "Just fine."